In a recent interview, Waters made sure to mention he is a Boston Globe subscriber, before launching into any conversation about his work.

“ I like the press. I get a free ad from them, and they use me because I know how to make jokes, so it’s a mutual job where we use each other,” he said.

Specializing in wildly transgressive cult movies, Waters toured from college to college and put together a vaudeville act to introduce his works.

He later began bringing out his biggest muse, Divine. The late actor, singer, and drag queen starred in many of Waters’ films, including “Pink Flamingos” (1972) and “Hairspray” (1988).

“ Fake cops would arrest us, and we’d strangle them, and the show would start,” Waters said.

Sporting his signature pencil thin mustache, Waters at 80 is, as ever, a bizarre and kitschy filmmaker, writer, actor, and artist. Hailing from Baltimore, he released his first feature film “Mondo Trasho” in 1969.

Now, he’s bringing his live comedy shows across the country and filming for his role as a phlebotomist named Mr. Phibes in season 13 of “American Horror Story,” releasing this fall, as well as another show he can’t currently disclose.

He talked on the phone from his home in Provincetown where he’s just starting to work on next year’s version of his one-man show. He’s also celebrating his 63rd summer on the tip of Cape Cod.

“I hitchhiked here in 1964, and I lived for two weeks with some friends, crashed on their sofa, and I always knew I would always come back, and I always did,” he says. “I bought a house here finally after years and years and years.”

He presented his films early on in Provincetown and worked with film programmer George Mansour, who founded LGBTQ+ film festival Wicked Queer, to show his movies in Boston.

“ The very first one, ‘Pink Flamingos,’ New Line [Cinema] didn’t know what to do, and they premiered it in a gay porno theater, which my friend snuck in and said, ‘Everybody’s in the bathroom. Nobody’s watching the movie,’” Waters said. “So I knew that was wrong, but then we got it at the Orson Welles, I believe, or the Kenmore Square first – I forget. But Boston was a really great town for all my movies.”

As for his one-man shows, they often reflect on his life, film, sex, and politics. “Going to Extremes” encapsulates the extreme time we’re living in and “how to use humor as terrorism,” he said.

“ I don’t mean that in a bloody way unless it’s intellectually. I think we use humor as terrorism to make the enemy look stupid,” Waters said. “ The way you can change anybody’s mind, unless you’re really hot sexually, is to make them laugh.”

Waters thinks he’s succeeded for all of these years because he isn’t afraid to make fun of himself.

“ I’m making fun of myself by saying I make trash epics and all that, and I’m making fun of what I like. I don’t make fun of things I hate really,” he said.

The only exception is when he talks about the few funny remarks President Trump has ever made, he said, “which doesn’t take long.”

In re-working his shows, Waters hasn’t strayed from his decades old writing routine. He begins at 8 a.m. every weekday, and he has to have his BIC pens and legal pads ready to go.

“ You’re never off work if you’re a comedian because you’re watching people, you’re reading papers, you’re getting material. Everything is material to me,” Waters said. “You just have to do it every day. That’s all. There’s no shortcut.”

Waters finds it a little strange to perform in Provincetown, since it’s his home. When he gets off the stage, he’s inevitably going to see audience members at the grocery store.

“ I throw in Provincetown jokes. I do it at Town Hall, which is very ‘To Kill a Mockingbird,’” he said. “I was actually in jail in that building in my life when I was very young. The jails used to be in the bottom of Town Hall. They’re not there anymore.” Waters laughed as he added that the space is now used as a green room, where performers prepare before shows.

Throughout his career, Waters has referred to himself as a “filth elder.” He champions people who don’t fit in.

“’ Filth elder’ means that I’ve been able to do what I want my entire life, get away with it, and still make people happy,” he said.

After his performances, Waters hosts “Group Therapy” where fans can “share their shame” and feel heard by fellow counterculture enthusiasts.

“ When they leave, I hope they feel better about whatever part of themselves they’re uptight about,” he said.