Miss Piggy sat down with the Mooseville Journal Record to discuss everything from booty calls and struggling with dieting to a new book and why she won't forgive Frank Oz in this exclusive interview that challenges everything you thought you knew about this complex and emotional Muppet Icon.
MJR: It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you, Miss Piggy. I must say you look different.
MP: Do I?
MJR: Yes, you look amazing.
MP: (Giggles) Moi? Go on.
MJR: Seriously, it looks like you’ve gone through some major changes.
MP: Well, sure. Shooting that last film was very grueling. It really whipped me into shape.
MJR: You’ve struggled with your weight before. What do you think was the trick this time?
MP: It’s all about calorie count and plain, old-fashioned hard work.
MJR: And a trainer.
MP: There’s that.
MJR: So, were you not working hard before?
MP: Honestly, no.
MJR: Why not?
MP: Because it was hard.
MJR: It’s not hard anymore?
MP: Of course it’s hard, but it’s different hard. Getting up at the butt crack to workout and eating twigs for breakfast and lunch followed by a flavorless yet sensible dinner is not a piece of cake. Hmmmmm, cake.
MJR: And before?
MP: Before it was hard because I was trying every diet out there. South Beach, Jenny Craig, Weight Watchers, Atkins, all carbs, no carbs, juicing, fasting, been there, done that. I even got the Insanity videos, but I mostly just watched those.
MJR: Insanity is hard.
MP: Yeah, but the hardest part was the stress of it all. I constantly wanted to eat. I’m a pig. But every day on set they’d shove vegetables at me, and cigarettes.
MJR: Cigarettes?
MP: To help with the hunger.
MJR: I can’t believe they’d encourage smoking.
MP: Ah, hello? Smoking is much more accepted than being fat.
MJR: In Hollywood?
MP: Anywhere. It sucks being fat in America. Sure, you’ve got plenty of company, but all the marketing and shit, you feel alone. And, you’re constantly being told how fat you are.
MJR: I don’t think you’re fat, Miss Piggy.
MP: Big-boned, hefty, plump, stout, great personality, just polite ways to say fat, but that’s not what I’m talking about.
MJR: What are you talking about?
MP: The whole system. The dressing rooms at the malls, the seats on airplanes, the magazine racks at the supermarket, the booty calls because someone’s too embarrassed to be seen with me in public, all of it kept reminding me how fat I was.
MJR: Is that someone anyone we know?
MP: (Clears throat) Isn’t it time to plug my book?
MJR: Yes, you’ve got a new book coming out this spring.
MP: “My Memois.”
MJR: That’s cute.
MP: The book’s a lot of things, dear, but cute isn’t one of them.
MJR: You don’t think the title’s cute?
MP: Yeah, I guess. It’s my shtick, the moi thing. I’m not dumb, but the book is anything but cute.
MJR: How would you describe it then?
MP: A no bullshit look at my life. I couldn’t afford my therapist anymore.
MJR: So this book was your therapy?
MP: I’ve got some rage. I have to get it out somehow.
MJR: What are you angry about?
MP: Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?
MJR: Yes.
MP: So, you know why I’m angry.
MJR: Struggling with your weight and not being able to afford therapy?
MP: It’s a lot more complicated than that, but yes…and other things.
MJR: What other things?
MP: I’m a pig in Hollywood. Do you know how difficult that is? I’m stereotyped left and right.
MJR: How so?
MP: Let’s see, desperate to find love, desperate to fit in, desperate to be a superstar, just desperate in general.
MJR: You’re not desperate to be a superstar?
MP: Of course not! I’m a struggling actress just like everyone else in this business. I fight for scraps and don’t complain about what I get. I work hard and deliver every time. Hell, I am the Muppets, but I don’t ask for more than I deserve. Never have. Frank is the reason people think I’m desperate to be a superstar.
MJR: Frank Oz?
MP: I never forgave him for that New York Times interview. There was no distinction between me, Piggy Lee, and the role he'd given me to play. I could've killed him for that.
MJR: So everything he said in that interview was a fabrication of a character he had created?
MP: Not everything. Yeah, I was fresh off the farm and my home life hadn’t been pretty. Sure I did pageants, but I did what I had to do to get by. Judge all you want; it got me out of Iowa.
MJR: So, most of what he said was true then?
MP: Except the last part. I do have a lot of vulnerabilities, but I've never been desperate to be a superstar. That was a bald-faced lie.
MJR: Well, if you don’t want to be a superstar, what do you want?
MP: Respect. I started in this business with nothing but my wits, voice, and hair, and I’ve had to work my ass off to get where I am.
MJR: You have worked hard.
MP: Damn, straight. See how skinny my ass is?
MJR: Yes.
MP: Hey, watch it, buster. I said you could look at my ass, not my boobs.
MJR: Sorry.
MP: That’s not professional. (Giggles) You’re sweet though.
MJR: Thanks, Miss Piggy. I’ve got to say, you seem so confident now.
MP: I am confident. I might have a chubby waist, but I’ve got a cute face, and I’m fairly in shape. I’ve got a new book coming out on the coattails of a movie. I feel genuinely happy with my life. All the hard work both professionally and personally is finally paying off.
MJR: And, don’t forget about your marriage to Kermit.
MP: That was just part of the movie! It’s not REAL!! ERRRRRRRRRRRR! HEEEE-YA!!
MP: I’ll pay for that.
MJR: No, don’t worry about it. I don’t know why I have a typewriter in here anyway.
MP: It seemed a little dated, but I didn’t want to say anything.
MJR: It was just decoration.
MP: I’ll send over a laptop next week.
MP: Do I?
MJR: Yes, you look amazing.
MP: (Giggles) Moi? Go on.
MJR: Seriously, it looks like you’ve gone through some major changes.
MP: Well, sure. Shooting that last film was very grueling. It really whipped me into shape.
MJR: You’ve struggled with your weight before. What do you think was the trick this time?
MP: It’s all about calorie count and plain, old-fashioned hard work.
MJR: And a trainer.
MP: There’s that.
MJR: So, were you not working hard before?
MP: Honestly, no.
MJR: Why not?
MP: Because it was hard.
MJR: It’s not hard anymore?
MP: Of course it’s hard, but it’s different hard. Getting up at the butt crack to workout and eating twigs for breakfast and lunch followed by a flavorless yet sensible dinner is not a piece of cake. Hmmmmm, cake.
MJR: And before?
MP: Before it was hard because I was trying every diet out there. South Beach, Jenny Craig, Weight Watchers, Atkins, all carbs, no carbs, juicing, fasting, been there, done that. I even got the Insanity videos, but I mostly just watched those.
MJR: Insanity is hard.
MP: Yeah, but the hardest part was the stress of it all. I constantly wanted to eat. I’m a pig. But every day on set they’d shove vegetables at me, and cigarettes.
MJR: Cigarettes?
MP: To help with the hunger.
MJR: I can’t believe they’d encourage smoking.
MP: Ah, hello? Smoking is much more accepted than being fat.
MJR: In Hollywood?
MP: Anywhere. It sucks being fat in America. Sure, you’ve got plenty of company, but all the marketing and shit, you feel alone. And, you’re constantly being told how fat you are.
MJR: I don’t think you’re fat, Miss Piggy.
MP: Big-boned, hefty, plump, stout, great personality, just polite ways to say fat, but that’s not what I’m talking about.
MJR: What are you talking about?
MP: The whole system. The dressing rooms at the malls, the seats on airplanes, the magazine racks at the supermarket, the booty calls because someone’s too embarrassed to be seen with me in public, all of it kept reminding me how fat I was.
MJR: Is that someone anyone we know?
MP: (Clears throat) Isn’t it time to plug my book?
MJR: Yes, you’ve got a new book coming out this spring.
MP: “My Memois.”
MJR: That’s cute.
MP: The book’s a lot of things, dear, but cute isn’t one of them.
MJR: You don’t think the title’s cute?
MP: Yeah, I guess. It’s my shtick, the moi thing. I’m not dumb, but the book is anything but cute.
MJR: How would you describe it then?
MP: A no bullshit look at my life. I couldn’t afford my therapist anymore.
MJR: So this book was your therapy?
MP: I’ve got some rage. I have to get it out somehow.
MJR: What are you angry about?
MP: Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?
MJR: Yes.
MP: So, you know why I’m angry.
MJR: Struggling with your weight and not being able to afford therapy?
MP: It’s a lot more complicated than that, but yes…and other things.
MJR: What other things?
MP: I’m a pig in Hollywood. Do you know how difficult that is? I’m stereotyped left and right.
MJR: How so?
MP: Let’s see, desperate to find love, desperate to fit in, desperate to be a superstar, just desperate in general.
MJR: You’re not desperate to be a superstar?
MP: Of course not! I’m a struggling actress just like everyone else in this business. I fight for scraps and don’t complain about what I get. I work hard and deliver every time. Hell, I am the Muppets, but I don’t ask for more than I deserve. Never have. Frank is the reason people think I’m desperate to be a superstar.
MJR: Frank Oz?
MP: I never forgave him for that New York Times interview. There was no distinction between me, Piggy Lee, and the role he'd given me to play. I could've killed him for that.
MJR: So everything he said in that interview was a fabrication of a character he had created?
MP: Not everything. Yeah, I was fresh off the farm and my home life hadn’t been pretty. Sure I did pageants, but I did what I had to do to get by. Judge all you want; it got me out of Iowa.
MJR: So, most of what he said was true then?
MP: Except the last part. I do have a lot of vulnerabilities, but I've never been desperate to be a superstar. That was a bald-faced lie.
MJR: Well, if you don’t want to be a superstar, what do you want?
MP: Respect. I started in this business with nothing but my wits, voice, and hair, and I’ve had to work my ass off to get where I am.
MJR: You have worked hard.
MP: Damn, straight. See how skinny my ass is?
MJR: Yes.
MP: Hey, watch it, buster. I said you could look at my ass, not my boobs.
MJR: Sorry.
MP: That’s not professional. (Giggles) You’re sweet though.
MJR: Thanks, Miss Piggy. I’ve got to say, you seem so confident now.
MP: I am confident. I might have a chubby waist, but I’ve got a cute face, and I’m fairly in shape. I’ve got a new book coming out on the coattails of a movie. I feel genuinely happy with my life. All the hard work both professionally and personally is finally paying off.
MJR: And, don’t forget about your marriage to Kermit.
MP: That was just part of the movie! It’s not REAL!! ERRRRRRRRRRRR! HEEEE-YA!!
MP: I’ll pay for that.
MJR: No, don’t worry about it. I don’t know why I have a typewriter in here anyway.
MP: It seemed a little dated, but I didn’t want to say anything.
MJR: It was just decoration.
MP: I’ll send over a laptop next week.
