What's your vice?
I do too much for people that don't merit any of it. I’m possibly going to be condemned for that. Luckily another vice of mine is I couldn't care less.
Don't you think it is time you write a book on your life?
Yes! It is unfortunate that I have little time to put down the words, as we authors like to say. Last week I've read the inside flap of "The Little Prince", and I found it quite passable. On that account, I've asked my agent to call the author - a certain Antoine de Saint-Exupéry - because I truly need a ghost writer, but for the time being I've not heard any news.
Where do you go when you die?
Inside a pine box, usually, but if you are incinerated then your remains can rest in some dull place.
Liza, do you like armadillos?
For which reason you do not like armadillos, if I may ask?
Actually, they reek! And one armadillo bite my cousin in his private bits. This is one of the reasons I become a singer, so I may probably rethink my relation with armadillos.
Liza, are you superstitious?
Will do! I need to avoid any food whose name contains the letter "T" before a critical occasion. Obviously not today.
Do you ever Google yourself?
Not so often. Say every four hours. But lately Google asks "Did you mean Liza Mynnelli", who happens to be a vascular surgeon from San Francisco. That's quite distressing, but not as much heartbreaking as learning that according to Yahoo my name sounds like a revolting insult in Japanese.
Could you improvise a lyric for us.
Okey-doke! Here it is
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