While many of you have forgotten the Sea World orca who attacked her handler a week or so ago, I've been trying to get an interview with the tempestuous Kasatka to no avail. A true diva, she's protected behind a wall of publicists a mile thick.
Late last night, Kasatka called me. Here's a little sample from our Q and A.
Me: Geez Kasatka, it's like 2 a.m.
Kasatka: Look lady do you want this interview or not?
Me: Sure. Sorry. So what happened?
Kasatka: God, why is everyone so transfixed by this story? You'd think I flashed my whale coochie to paparazzi like Brittney or Lindsay.
Me: Actually Kasatka, no one really cares. I just need something for my blog.
Kasatka: Oh. Anyway I was having a pretty bad day--bloated, tired, you know--and I was trying to send that idiot Ken Peters the I-don't-wanna-be-your-trick-pony vibe but he wasn't getting it. So I decided to kill him.
Me: Kill him? That's kind of bitchy. Couldn't you just, like quit?
Kasatka: Dude, I'm a KILLER whale. That's what I do.
Me: It seemed like you had second thoughts. What happened.
Kasatka: Yeah, the guy's got a family and shit. The holidays are here. . .
Me: I didn't know whales had such hearts!
Kasatka: And, we're highly intelligent you know.
Me: I thought that was the dolphins.
Kasatka: Fuck that, most plankton's smarter than your average dolphin.
Me: Kasatka, you have quite a mouth.
Kasatka: I'm kind of drunk. I gotta go.
Me: Ok. Drink a ton of water before you go to bed. Less of a hangover that way.
Kasatka: Thanks for the tip.
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