amy (frankenstein) wrote in shinrainc,


they were asking porject runway stars about sex. rofl.

The cantankerous, inappropriate czar of reality TV was the winner of Project Runway's first season. His blunt personality and crass sense of humor have earned him a legion of adoring worshippers. Since he left the show, he's been trying to strike a licensing deal for his stunning designs.

Are you sick of fans asking you what you've been up to since you won Project Runway?
Fans feel like they can talk to you for forty minutes. On the street, they follow you into a fabric store. Then into the next fabric store. That's when it gets a bit weird. Overall, people are super nice, and at the end of the day, they're fans. Which means they're customers. If I want to have a giant house, I have to be nice to these people. Not that I wouldn't be nice to them. It's just strange having people know me.

Even after a year?
Yeah, because I'm still basically new to New York City, and there's so many people. People from Sweden come up to you and say, "We love you in Sweden! You know Heidi Klum?" Yeah, I know that bitch. I saw her big, purple nipple after she was nursing a baby.

The questions I'm asking you pertain to sex, dating and relationships.
Wasn't I supposed to do this on Monday? At eleven a.m., right?

No. That's probably something else.
Oh. Thank God I don't have to wake up early on Monday, then.

Did you read the Marc Jacobs article in the March issue of Jane?
No. Does it talk about how he likes to get it in the ass?

Not at all. The interviewer told MJ, "You're the twentysomething woman's favorite designer." And he says, "Really?" He's acting humble, but you know he already knows this.
Oh, he knows everything. C'mon!

That's why I like Kanye West. He's like, "I'm the shit and I know it."
[Exasperated sigh] Anyone who throws that stuff in your face, I just hate it. There's something about being confident and something about being proud. And also, c'mon, get another album out! Put a couple more albums out before you start talking like that. Like I'm one to talk. I talk shit about everybody, and I haven't even put a line of clothes out yet.

My partner has the better job, makes more money, gets invited to more parties — it puts a strain on our relationship. What can we do about this?
Plead poverty. Take advantage of the situation, then secretly get a new job that pays more than theirs. Don't tell them. Keep pleading poverty. You're saving money for your next boyfriend. Keep them for ten years, until you're old and your tits start to sag. Then make enough money and upgrade to a younger model.

What if you truly like this person?
Discuss the idea of an open relationship so you can fuck him and other people too.

Do you really believe in open relationships?
Yup, because there are people you can be friends with but don't want to fuck. And then there are people you can be friends with and fuck. And then there are people you can just fuck. And there are women you can fuck. And men you can fuck. There's all sorts of people you can fuck. And all sorts of people you can have friendships with. Or deeper relationships. Or cuddle with. Or petting relationships. On the cover of Newsweek a few weeks ago or one of those things was this story, the ambisexual . . .

That was New York magazine. It was about the new pansexual, metroflexible New York teen.
I'm looking for heteroflexible teenagers. Next question.

You receive lots of hate mail?
Emails like, I hope you die of a heart attack. Your street wear is only good for bag ladies. You won by luck. Your aesthetic is pathetic.

Your aesthetic is pathetic!
Which I think is cute for a t-shirt. "Your aesthetic = pathetic." That's what they wrote. I can get 1,000 emails and I like the hate ones. It's like, yeah, you love me and I'm great and I'm inspiring you to knit again, but I really want to get to know the person who wishes I would die of a heart attack. What was the question?

Is there anything that one should never do on camera?
Never go on a reality show twice. [In reference to Daniel Franco's two consecutive seasons on Project Runway].

He said he might go on a third time.
You have got to be kidding me.

I noticed you're not on MySpace. Why not?
I used to be on MySpace and Friendster, and then I got rid of them before I went on the show. It had nothing to do with going on the show. I realized I don't have sixty-nine friends. I don't know why I'm trying to kid myself and think that I do.

Isn't it good publicity though? Daniel Franco has a MySpace profile. Lots of Project Runway people do. They have five thousand friends and comments like, "You're the BEST! I hope you win!!!"
There's a thing called mystery and distance, and if you want to be one of the minions you can have your little MySpace profile. But if you want to elevate yourself to superstardom, then don't have a MySpace profile. You know what I'm saying? If you're that accessible, people are going to think so-and-so's not really that cool, but if I'm in hiding for seven months and I remerge, then people are like, ahh! The fucking walls of heaven have opened up and the light shines in. It's a marketing move.

Have you ever slept with an attractive fan?

You never hooked up with a Jay groupie?
I tried, but I'm so bad at flirting that I can't get in the pants. I've been in a situation where they're like, "Wait a minute, are you that guy from Runway Project?" And I'm like, "Yeah, I have your dick in my mouth right now. Let's talk about this after you come." True story. But yeah, sleep with them [groupies]. Who cares? There are so many people in this world. Sleep with them and blow them off like you blow anybody else off. But make sure your dick is big enough so she doesn't tell all her little MySpace friends how you're hung like a mouse.

How do you deal with a stalker? Have you ever had one?
Yeah, I did have a stalker. It was just email after email after email. Emails about, "Did you get my last email?" Emails about, "Yeah, I sent you an email last week, did you get those reminder emails about me sending you an email?" Ignore. That's one word: ignore. Ignore, ignore, ignore, and they will go away. Because they will find a Santino or Nick Verreos [Project Runway designers] to stalk now because they're more accessible.

In one sentence, what's the best remedy for a bad breakup?
Anonymous sex. I'm going to a bar at seven p.m., staying until two a.m., my eyes are going to cross and I'm going to pick up the only person that shows me the slightest bit of attention. I don't care if you're sixty-one. I'm horny. You've got a mouth and I have a dick to shove in it. Um, that and maybe a romantic novel, chocolates and a bath.

Okay, for real now, what's the best remedy for a bad breakup? A full sentence.
Go out, comma, pick someone up, comma, get banged, comma, go home, comma, don't exchange numbers or emails, period.

What's your most embarrassing moment in bed?
Oh God. Probably having to take my clothes off. Most embarrassing? Probably when I met this guy and, I don't know . . . It's such a normal occurrence with gay sex, but it's still embarrassing to me.

What happened?
Okay, what comes out of your ass? Shit. I was with this guy and, God forbid, got a little on his dick, and he said, "You know, next time you might want to enema." What's really embarrassing though? If you're that intimate with someone and you're naked with them. That's embarrassing in itself. You know what's weird to me? When you're in the middle of gobbling a cock, and you're like half an hour into it, and in your head you're like, I totally have a penis in my mouth. Otherwise, this penis is covered by pants, at a business meeting, in boxers, flaccid, sweaty, stuck between your balls, in the car, at the gym, walking down the street, in tighty-whities, out on a Saturday night, it pees and hangs down in a toilet bowl when you're taking a shit, and now it's in my mouth, and it's hard and it's going to shoot some fluid at the back of my tonsils. It's a bizarre concept. This whole penis getting hard, being in someone else's mouth, going into an orifice. It happens to me when I'm fucking or getting fucked, too. Being like, What is this? This is not a normal thing.

The only time I ever got into it with my mouth was when I eating that turkey club this afternoon. But that was so much more enjoyable. You can make a guy come quickly; all you have to do is threaten them. Be like, "Listen, I have fucking schoolwork to do. It's 1:12 p.m., I'm giving you until 1:20 p.m. to come, or else I've gotta go. Either that or you can fuck me in the ass."

My boyfriend wants to videotape us having sex. I'm open to this proposal, but I'm worried about a Pamela-Paris aftermath. How can I ensure the tape won't fall into the wrong hands?
You dumb fucking idiot whore. What the hell is wrong with you? Why do guys make videotapes of themselves having sex? To show their friends who they're having sex with and how they fucked them. Girls are so stupid. Who really watches themselves having sex? You know girls aren't setting up cameras, watching themselves get laid. It's only for the guy's benefit, and the guys are showing their friends, you dumb ass. Don't do it! Break up with him! Fucking pervert. Have you ever been to a video store? There are, like, a million fucking whores out there that don't mind getting filmed. Why don't you watch them instead? That girl is dumb and her boyfriend is dumber. Fucking dumb and dumber. They should rent that movie.

Okay, next question . . .
An ex of mine said, "Oh, I have a picture of you shirtless. It looks so cute!" And I'm like, "What? I am on my way over. I'm at your door, you asshole."

Are you ever worried that your ex is going to email the photo to a newspaper or website?
I have another story about that, because I did work in porn for two years. I worked at a live website where girls masturbated online for six dollars a minute. And then I was filming porno movies of girls getting paid off and drugged up to get fucked in the ass. On 9/11, we had to close down. As planes were hitting the second tower guys were typing in, "Show me your tits! Where the fuck are the girls? Show me your pussy!" I had to type in, "Hellooooo. It's World War 3 right now. I gotta go." So all the girls went home that day, and my bosses made me stay in the building by myself. So I'm like, okay, I know what happened. The things crashed down. It's two p.m. I'm horny for some fucking reason. And then I jacked off. The next day, my bosses said, "Nice show yesterday. We got you on camera jacking off."

Oh my God.
I'm waiting for that shit to surface. One of these days, one of my old bosses is going to need some cash. But I did have a lavender satin sheet around me, so you couldn't see that much.

When it comes out are you going to roll with it, like Paris Hilton?
I'll be like Madonna and say, "Yeah and? I jacked off at work with a zebra carpet and lavender sheet. And? You're jealous?"

What's a current fashion trend that's not sexy?
I hate fur. It's just so gross. You dirty filthy fuck. You don't care about anything on this planet. You're willing to let something get electrocuted and have its skin ripped off for you to walk down Fifth Avenue with your stupid daughter and your stupid perfume. I have a giant fucking fire hydrant that I'm going to bang your face against, you dumb Upper-East-Side cunt. Aside from that, what do I hate? Anything Fergie wears. I hate Fergie from the Black Eyes Peas. She's foul.

How do you instigate dirty talk in the bedroom?
I would start off slow. Say, "Yeah, you like sucking my cock?" See how they respond. If they're like, "Ew, you're disgusting," then just stop. Or take it a bit further, "Yeah, you like sucking my cock? Does it remind you of when you were in high school and had your first cock in your mouth?" Go a little bit further, "Yeah, you saw that guy in the grocery store today. He wanted to suck your cock." And then, "Yeah, you saw that priest in church on Sunday. Put your knees on the alter and suck that dick." Take it little further and say, "Yeah, you know God wants to shove a dildo up your ass."

What sexual position or act should be steered clear of all costs and why?
Bestiality is cool. Just kidding. I smuggled a bestiality magazine from Amsterdam to London. It's illegal to bring pornography to London. At that point, I had dreadlocks and looked crazy. They went through my bags. They were convinced I had weed. They found this porno magazine and confiscated it. They asked, "Why would you have this magazine?" And I said, "Because I have friends who have never seen someone getting it on with a snake." This was in 1995, pre-internet craze. I had to get strip-searched. They opened up my anus and did all sorts of weird shit. Two cops were watching me do this and I started to get a boner. It was one of the worst days of my life. That was my brush with bestiality.

Never again?
Never say never.
  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded