BRENT CORRIGAN
Meet the actor, porn star and sex worker also known as Sean Paul Lockhart. Photography by Anthony Duran.
He wants to do what with a winged horse??? Oh, he’s still cute!
Do you prefer to be called Sean or Brent? Sean. You’ve gone a bit ginger – do redheads have more fun? If getting more attention is more fun, then yes! I’ve always been auburn: a closet, more demure version of a fire-crotch ginger. What TV show are you obsessed with right now? Penny Dreadful. I’m dark and twisted inside with an All-American exterior. The film most guaranteed to make you cry? The Horse Whisperer. “Just because a life is a lil ’ rundown doesn’t mean we should throw it away.” Your ultimate summer vacation destination? Italy. No, Mount Shasta, California. No, the coastal Redwoods. Ugh. What could you do in your spare time and never get bored with? Take care of horses; loving on them, riding and training them. Who’s your favorite tweeter on Twitter? There are other people on Twitter? Which porn star do you most want to work with? Tony Buff. Do you have any siblings? One little sister, one little brother and one older brother. We’re all three years apart. Do you want to get married one day? Yes, but it’ ll be for keeps and for the rest of our days. No children though! I’ll stick to twinks and horses. What do you most value in a friend? Loyalty, creativity, and someone who can help me remember not to take myself too seriously. Does size always matter? No. Not unless you plan on sticking it somewhere. What do you think of the word Tranny? Bring it on. Own it! Stop hiding from the things that have hurt/been used against us in our past lives. Do you speak any foreign languages? Un poco Español. Where do you see yourself in ten years? Sixty head of horses, living in southern Oregon. Rehabbing horses, importing friends, and being very, very still. Are you a Truvada whore? A pill can’t fix what’s wrong with my filthy mind. What is your worst habit? Time management. No, triple booking my time with people. No, I’m too self-obsessed. What’s one law you just can’t help breaking? The speed limit. What one thing would you change about your family? We’d all let sleeping dogs lay. We’d come together to start fresh and new. When was the moment you knew you’d lost your innocence? Pulp Fiction. Age 14. That rape scene in the basement. It should not have turned me on… What’s one thing someone has done that really impressed you? Proved to me once and for all that if we’re happy, positive and forthright, the universe will deliver more love and light to us. What’s the most surprising thing you’ve learned doing sex work? People need to relax and let loose more. Be less judgmental, accept we’re all the same with small differences. What’s the difference between a sex worker and whore? Someone who loves connecting with people and someone who only wants the money. Will Hillary Clinton be the first female US President? Do I look psychic? Will the beard trend ever end? Please. One song guaranteed to get you on the dance floor? The Black Eyed Peas, Meet Me Halfway. Do you have a celebrity girl crush? Emma Stone. How would your best friends describe you in three words? Intense, private, generous. Who or what do you want to come back as in the next life? A pegasus that no one knew existed except for a few choice, sexy men who get to ride me. If you were on death row, what would you choose for your last meal? Fried chicken, waff les, garlic mashed potatoes, chocolate mousse cake, mozzarella sticks and buffalo wing sauce! If you could have dinner with anyone alive or dead who would it be and why? Just one?! Leonardo Da Vinci or Salvador Dali – to gain a more unique perspective on life, love and the mechanics of the natural world. Who is your pick for sexiest man alive? Jason Statham. What’s the wisest advice you’ve been given? Just be the best you that you can muster – fuck the rest if they can’t handle it. Or some variation of that sentiment… What is your proudest achievement? Producing and starring in the psychological thriller, Truth. That film is about hidden demons. Do you have a dark side? Oh god, yes. Ask my ex, Andy. I’m sure he’d love to tell you all about how I never got back to “me” after that film wrapped. What is your is next big achievement? Working as a Falcon Exclusive while still producing all new art-driven content for my website www. TheNewBrentCorrigan.com. What three things do you most want a romantic partner to be? Accepting, adventurous and courageous. One thing you would never do? Sell my soul for crack. Oops, I meant hole. Something very few people know about you? Maddeningly introverted and pathetically dorky. Though if you follow me on twitter you know I have no friends and that, yes, I am indeed a total nerd. One acting role you’d love to play? Anything re-occurring on American Horror Story. One talent you wish you had? I wish I could play the guitar and sing like Don Henley. If you were a cocktail, which one would you be? Vodka Gimlet: sophisticated and oddly nostalgic. Kinkiest festish you’d love to indulge? Pony play. I don’t want to play the pony, though. A place you’d love to visit, but haven’t yet? Machu Picchu. What does your Grindr headline read? “I’m a real boy!” What are your tips for avoiding stalkers? When you see someone trying way too
"There’s a huge mirror beside my bed because I love to watch other men do dirty things to me…"
hard to make eye contact with you out of your peripheral line of sight, furrow your brow and scowl like you have to shit really badly. Who’s picture is beside your bed? There’s a huge mirror beside my bed! Mostly because I love to watch other men do dirty things to me… What do you consider the biggest issue facing our gay community? Queer affectations and how media, film and television only perpetuate one view of queer life. Yes, we’re here, we’re queer and most people are pretty much over it. Moving right along, and remembering to be men while doing it. What is your most prized possession? I don’t consider my horse a possession. However, he brings me more love, peace and satisfaction than anything else I’ve had in my life. How do you want your epitaph to read? “Buried face down so the whole world can kiss his ass.”
The Sexiest Man Alive. Who is he? Where is he? How did he get to be this way? And when we meet, what will he think of me? Those of you in the Southern Hemisphere will be reading this just as the first glimpses of spring, with its verdant promises, are making themselves seen, heard and smelt. Hibernation time is over, so it’s time to get back out there because love is in the air. Or maybe it’s just lust. All those posturing birds. And f lowers in seductive bloom. Those luscious leaves. It’s almost time to strip down and tan up. Is that the echo of a mating call I hear bouncing off those sunlit rolling hills? Accompanied by that whiff of desperation? I’d hate to ruin your illusions about the immediacy of any hard-copy material you read, so pay no attention to the fact that I am writing this in the arctic temperatures of a mid-winter Sydney. It’s a freezing Wednesday night, and I’ve just schlepped home from David Jones with a fan heater and an extra-weight king-sized doona in hand.
Christopher Meloni. Jason Statham. And, oh my God, I just had a vision of them having sex! With each other…
I’m wearing slippers, track pants, a cardigan and a pashmina, huddled over an old raw timber table in the cold cavernous kitchen of the drafty 19th Century terrace house I’ve been renting for the past year. I’m typing in mittens. Dinner was toast. Dessert is quince paste. Eaten on its own. With a spoon. Straight from the container. I’m on to my second bottle of merlot. Drunk at room temperature. Which means chilled on this particular evening. My thoughts are very far away from sexy. So far, in fact, that when told I was running late with my submission for the September issue, all I could think of was that movie with Anna Wintour. All about Vogue. What kind of gay man am I? I mean, of course only a gay man (or a publisher) would ever think of Anna Wintour and Vogue when hearing the word September. But the fact that I could overlook Sexy Men for Dragon Lady puts me in a very special category of gay. And that would be survival mode gay who seems to come with no libido. Partially attributable to my huge overfeeding at the hands of over enthusiastic friends and family on my recent Royal Tour of the UK. Which, although undertaken in their summer, was cold enough to permit the wearing of a Barbour jacket at all times, which does wonderful things for an overfed bod. Nor was my libido helped by my recent traumatic stint in rehab. Yes rehab. Which I won’t revisit. No rehashing rehab. Although it could also be due to the fact that I find myself in what used be termed middle age. But I digress. So if they didn’t want Anna Wintour, what did they want? Sexy men. And how am I supposed to know what that means? I don’t anymore. So I had to put the question out there to my friends. Via Facebook and a group SMS. And let me tell you what I got back. For there were some quite telling surprises. Of course there were the usual Channing Tatums, Zac Efrons and Ryan Goslings. My niece even embarrassingly gave me Justin Bieber. Although thank God there were no 1D’ers on anybody’s list. Personally I can never get past Denzel Washington and Stanley Tucci. But I know they’re not for everyone. Although I was surprised by the variety. There was Daniel Craig. Who needs no introduction. And Raphael Alencar. Who I had to google. It’s never been about the name of the porno actor for me. But then there was Javier Bardem. Who I most certainly did not have to google. Idris Elba. No, I didn’t know who he was either. But was so glad when I found out. There were a number of votes for the werewolf from True Blood. And, yes, I did know his name. Joe Manganiello. Although I’m not sure I spelt it right. Nor that I agree. I mean, I get it, but it’s kinda obvious. And those unattainable hotties kinda leave me cold. Well, not all of them. Of course there’s Tom Ford. Who nobody mentioned. Who I actually can’t decide if want to be or I want to date. But who should definitely be high on that list. There’s one I certainly don’t want to be and would be too scared to date but God I’d love him to fuck me. Christopher Meloni. Hubba hubba. Alongside Jason Statham. And, oh my God, I just had a vision of them having sex. With each other, just to be clear. And I have to excuse myself for a minute. Or two. So then I look at all these men. And I think what it is that they all have. I mean, of course, much of it is obvious. Killer looks. Bangin’ bods. Made even more desirable by the fact that they’re famous. And more famous by the fact that they’re so desirable. The pressure of fame ensuring they keep themselves as desirable as possible. But beyond that what is it? Some of them have style. Some of them have talent. Some even have multiple talents. Some have accents. Some attract scandal. Some are spotless. Some are perfectly somewhere in between. So if I could take a little bit of this and a little bit of that. And cast a spell. Hopefully avoiding Frankenstein’s monster. And anything too Patchwork Girl from Oz. Maybe something a little Rocky Horror. But without the drama. And the lurex hotpants. Really what I’d like to end up with, my ideal poof from a puff of smoke, already exists. And what’s more, he’s gay. And, from what I hear, also available. And in Sydney. Yep, you guessed it. Actually, I don’t know, maybe you didn’t. But the overwhelming consensus among my friends. Young and old. Male and female. Gay and straight. Is that the Sexiest Man Alive is… (drumroll)… Ricky Martin. And I must say I concur. So I’m heading out to meet him. Right now. Dressed like I am. Coz I can tell he’s a really nice guy. And he won’t mind. He’ll like me for who I am. Just as long as he doesn’t read my column.