As a sexy go-go dance with an M16 for a leg, Grindhouse‘s Rose McGowan blows holes in your femme fatale fantasies.

You were on our cover eight years ago. What’s new?
I own a 775,000-volt Tasser stun gun. And I loathe Hummers. They scream that you’re making up for shortcomings, like, “I have a small dick. Can you tell?”

Are you pro-manscaping?
I don’t like cheeseballs who are manscaped to a tee. I respond better to actors from earlier eras. There was more masculinity then. Men fell into Hollywood – they weren’t across with manicures.

Didn’t you fall into acting?
I was broke, and a friend suggested I go up for The Doom Generation. I had no intention of being an actor, but I got it. The caricature of the dump actress is something I fight against. Acting involves stamina, emotion and discipline, but it does not use my brain. I can’t believe some people have actor attached to their names. Maybe people think that about me. Well, fuck you.

That’s a bitch-slap now that you’re in Planet Terror and Death Proof. How’d you hook up with the guys?
I met Robert at Cannes. We were two losers in a corner. I called him fucko. Quentin likes how I curse. He’d go, “Put cocksucker in there.” He likes how I make the ck sound.

Did you like being a stripper?
Cherry’s not a stripper; she’s a go-go dancer. We shot it at a strip club, though, and I made them Windex the pole. That’s a lot of bacteria adding up over the course of an evening.

Is that how you lose your leg in Planet Terror? Bacteria?
In a way. I wake up with a stump. Luckily, my ex has a souped-up machine gin, as one would, and that becomes my leg.

It must have been a blast to be a gun-legged woman.
Cherry’s constantly getting kicked in the teeth, and I can identify with that. My life has been one step forward and three steps back. But she eventually prevails and… saves the world.