“I remember the first time I had sex — I still have the receipt. The girl was alive, as far as I could tell, she was warm and she was better than nothing. She cost me £20. I was 16 then and I’m 41 now. I have spent 25 years throwing my money and heart at tarts. I have slept with every nationality in every position in every country. From high-class call girls at £1,000 a pop to the meat-rack girls of Soho at £15, I have probably slept with more than 1,000 prostitutes, at a cost of £100,000… I know what you are thinking. That it’s all very well for people like me to idealise whores and thieves; to think that the street is somehow noble and picturesque; I have never had to live there. But so what? One day I will. Until such time, I have to pay for it. How else would someone young, rich and handsome get sex in this city? Yes, yes, I know. Prostitution is obscene, debasing and disgraceful. The point is, so am I.” —Guardian (UK)

The majority of johns — or “clients,” as they’re called these days — are men in long-term (if not monogamous) relationships who are naturally reticent to spout off about why they absolutely adore prostitution. Not so Sebastian Horsley, who writes this glowing, no-excuses, id-let-loose paeon to working girls.

Admittedly, Horsley is not short on megalomania. He knows the value of shock tactics. An artist of the agent provocateur type, he recently had himself crucified — literally, like with nails through the hands and feet — in order to prepare himself mentally for a series of crucifixion paintings. However, if you can set aside a bit of the self-aggrandisement — such as his hollow-sounding cult of things that are illegal — Horsley’s no-apologies endorsement of prostitution not only strikes a chord with the inner creep of every man, it makes a compelling argument.

If you’re a john, go read it for the fun of seeing somebody say in print the things you’ve thought to yourself but wouldn’t dare to admit. (Try this one: “The problem with normal sex is that it leads to kissing and pretty soon you’ve got to talk to them. Once you know someone well the last thing you want to do is screw them.”) If you’re not a john, go read it to question why you’re not. (”Some men proudly proclaim that they have never paid for it. Are they saying that money is more sacred than sex?”) If you’re a woman who’s never been a sex worker, go read it for a glimpse of the male psyche — if you dare. And if you’re a woman who’s been involved in the flesh trade, don’t bother — because you already know.

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