He is the cheese to my macaroni.
The Ten Worst Songs to Strip To: 1. That Midnight Oil song about aborigines.
For me, stripping was an unusual kind of escape. I had nothing to escape but privilege, but I claimed asylum anyway. At twenty-four, it was my last chance to reject something and become nothing. I wanted to terrify myself. Mission accomplished.
I feel like I’m part of a generation of people who are stuck in the past and are really self-absorbed. I mean, we’re actually taking pictures of ourselves and posting them on Facebook, and keeping in touch with people that should have been out of our lives 15 years ago.
I keep joking that I’m in Jason Reitman Film School, because I keep asking him questions every single day about directing and I have a list of things that he’s told me to do and not do and I definitely couldn’t learn from a better person.
I’ve been meaning to write about the Rolling Stones, but I am the furthest thing from a hipster rock journalist.
Stripping toughened my hide, but exposing myself as a writer has been a lot more brutal.