The chaotic ramblings of a retired adult industry entertainer.


adult industry

There is nothing

“We want to know how it felt to do porn.  More details!”

I can’t offer up more details since there isn’t more to say.  I was numb to all of it.  I still am.

I wasn’t raised religious. I wasn’t taught that sex is sacred.  My own mom was a whore.

At about the age of 8, my dad told me that he expected I’d get knocked up instead of going to college.  At 18 my mom sat me down and told me that if I was going to be a whore, I should be a high-class whore, and not a low class one (I don’t believe that my other siblings were given that same riveting talk).  Nobody had very high hopes for me.

Porn felt like having some lame sex.  That’s about it.  Nothing deeper.  No crazy or conflicted emotions involved.

Looking back on it stirs up a few feelings of “blah” and “ugh”.  I’m not full of regret, but I’m probably working my way towards that.

I’d say more, except there isn’t more to say.

More porn!

Since folks want to complain.  Here’s a little story about porn:

I’d show up at a random house in Los Angeles.  It would take what felt like three years for whoever to get everything ready.  I’d get fucked for money.  And I’d take my measly earnings and leave.

Look at me being a writer.



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