“I’m just gonna blow as many people as possible,” the cult filmmaker, stand-up and newly-minted novelist tells me, audibly smirking. It’s the first day of Pride Month when I reach John Waters by phone at his summer home in Provincetown, Massachusetts, so it feels remiss not to ask the 76-year-old how he plans to celebrate.
John Waters: ‘When I was 12 years old, my parents built me a stage in my house where I put on very self-indulgent shows for my poor aunt.