Is prostitution such a bad thing? If it is, why does it continue to enjoy such a long existence?
I adore whores. I regard any whore, however low, as superior to any lady, however noble. I don’t care if a girl has a face that could double as a chastity belt. I’ll pay cash for gash as long as its class. I adore a whore who is poor. All that glitters is not gold. All that smells is not garbage. Whores are the flowers of the earth.

Prostitution is the oldest profession in history – except gardening, of course. And who would want hoe a furrow when you can furrow a ho? It was very polite of Eve to accept that fateful apple and to sin us out of God’s horrible garden and into Satan’s streets of shame. Thousands of other saintly women have followed in her footsteps. Mary Magdalene, set a blessed precedent. Now she was the finest woman that ever walked the streets.

The prostitute is not, as the unfuckable feminists claim, the victim of men. She is their conqueror: an outlaw, warrior, stargazer, gambler, crusader, plunderer, violator, and martyr.

Consorting with prostitutes is a legitimate route to enlightenment. All I know most surely about truth, about love and about faith, I owe to whoring. Yes, I love whores. If I haven’t got any money, I masturbate.

When and how did you meet Rachel?
In a public lavatory. Money changed hands. Possibly a dime.

Do you regard her as your girlfriend? Better yet, what term would you use to best describe your relationship?
Squaw, doormat, trophy, Barbie, lover, muse, whore, co-conspirator, but never, ever girlfriend.

Has the emotional distance between you two remained the same, gotten heavier or lighter?
Lighter than corks, we dance on the waves. Rachel has an empty head and a full sweater. Is that not perfection?
Rachel looks great but she only knows 120 words and she’s only got two ideas in her head. The other one is a shoe.

Have either of you yet experienced the law of diminishing returns in the sex department?
Of course. Women are like bank accounts. You put it in, you take it out, you lose interest. It is not lack of closeness that kills desire, but too much closeness. Desire needs distance. If you eradicate the distance between two people there is no bridge to cross, and no one to visit on the other side. When there’s no distance, there’s no border; when there’s no border, there’s no taboo; when there’s’ no taboo, there’s no transgression; and when there’s no transgression there’s no desire. “Love must be reinvented” said Rimbaud and we have done just that.

Any plans for marriage or wedding?
Marriage? Pah! For physical pleasure I’d sooner be crucified any day.

When are you expecting children?
I hate children more than Herod. I am a dandy. The only place I would push a pram is into the Thames.

Tell me about your next project?
The play of Dandy in the Undeworld has been commissioned. It will open in the West End next year. And then transfer to Broadway. Ealing Broadway. Tim Fountain and I are writing it. Tim is perfect. He took Quentin Crisp’s life to the stage (“Resident Alien”), then Julie Burchill’s (“JulieBurchill is Away”) and Toby Young’s (“How to Loose Friends and Alienate People”). They feel that Sebastian Horsley sits in nicely in that line of people. We all have the airs and graces of a genius and no talent.

Not that I will see the play. I will drink and I will take drugs and in my weaker moments I will even eat but I will never, ever go to a theatre. Me, my life is theatre.
Theatre is life. Life is art. Art is furniture.

Dandy in the Underworld has been optioned by Stephen Fry Sprout Films. Are you tempted to play yourself? If not, what actor would you love to see portray you?
Play myself? Oh no, I‘d be completely miscast. Robert Downey Junior would have been good. He went to the methadone school of acting. But he turned it down. It was too exciting for him.
I am sure it won’t come off. If I had my life story offered to me to film, I’d turn it down. It is a bomb with a rather long fuse and if it ever goes off I am sure it will bomb.
The film world is just like life. Nothing ever happens. It is like Waiting for Godot but without the tree let alone the poetry.

Will you do a second memoir, or this is it?
The only way I could top that book would be to top myself.

Do you often feel like Sebastian Horsley? And how often do feel like the other Sebastian Horsley?
I like feeling them both. The affair between Sebastian Horsley and Sebastian Horsley is one of the prettiest love stories in all art.

What becomes a legend most?
That combination of theatricality and indifference.

And your motto, if any?
If you can’t laugh at yourself, make fun of spastics.