By Lacey Rose

“I’m a dark motherf—er,” he says as he readies the medieval drama and unloads on his years as a 400-pound teenager, Emmy snubs and why he’s “a person desperately in need of filters.”

“I didn’t call you a c—, did I?”

I’m certain Kurt Sutter remembers what he called me, but still I find myself compelled to rehash our colorful past. Five years ago, after I wrote a story about, well, his propensity to hurl words like “c—,” he’d unleashed that very word on me to his sizable Twitter following, which now counts more than half a million. He does have a clearer memory of apologizing to me, which he did after nudges from his FX employers and a handful of horrified peers. “What can I say, I’m a good communicator,” he says wryly, and we both laugh.

Read more at The Hollywood Reporter.