And to her credit (or not; I seriously don't know where to fall on this one), Andrews wasn't taking any crap. Wait -- that came out wrong. Ugh, just... here:
Do you have man-size feet like Paris Hilton? You know, she can find shoes to fit her only in the "tranny" section of the shoe store.
No, I wear a size-7 shoe, and I am five feet ten inches.
What is the one thing you take when feeling constipated?
Are you really going to write about that? I'm not going to comment on that. That is kind of weird and I don't feel comfortable answering that question. I have gone through so much in the last year.
I understand. You have been a victim of cyber-perversity--and, most impressive of all, you have rebounded in astounding fashion. Is there anything you would wish upon that man, Michael Barrett, who filmed you naked last year?
I am not going to answer that. The only thing that I would like to do is make sure people do not make a mockery of stalking and stalking victims. [...]
hat gets me to the vomitorium is that faux romance between you and that cheesy ballroom-dancing partner of yours. What was with this tabloid fake romance?
Do you know him?
I don't need to know him to find him cheesy, honey.
Oh, George. George, George, George. Every time he hangs up the phone, a publicist breaks its wings.
ยท Views From a Sideline [Vanity Fair]