What would be on your dirty playlist?
Gett Off by Prince, and the Liebestod from Tristan und Isolde.

What are you wearing?
Lilac pyjamas, and a weary air, as per.

A Desert Island Discs riff: what book / object would you take with you?
The King James Bible, in the margins of which I’d write homoerotic sonnets about George Villiers using only phrases to be found therein. A knife would be handy, although not necessarily for that, and not to start with.

What have you heard that you shouldn’t have?
‘Congratulations.’

What have you seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Just how easy it can be sometimes.

What do you like?
What have you got?

What do you really like?
But really, what have you got?

Spread a favourite rumour?
It’ll be fine.

Right now, what can you smell?
Night, warm dust, and alcohol wipes.

Tell us a dirty thought.
Recipe for Histoire de l’oeil
Melt some butter in a frying pan; crack in two eggs, and break the yolk gently. Splash in some Worcestershire Sauce. Fry until the white whitens, and then turn over. In the meantime, butter two slices of soft white bread. When the eggs are fried to your liking, place on one slice of bread, and then put the other on top, pressing softly. Melt some more butter, and then place the sandwich into the pan, pressing gently with your spatula, and frying both sides until golden-brown. Consume with a hangover.