I Shoot Porn

I Shoot Porn: You just walked into my studio with a dozen donuts for everyone to enjoy. I already grabbed a chocolate frosted! That scores almost as many “I’ll hire you again” points as blowing me. Was this your goal?

Summer Bailey: No, actually I just like being nice.

ISP: Aww. That’s sweet. How did a nice girl get messed up in a dirty business?

SB: Um, first for the money. Then, I found a love for what I do! As I would call it…I found my calling.

ISP: You’re saying you love making dirty movies?

SB: Yes! It’s fun, time on set goes fast, and it’s just something you don’t get to do everyday. I like doing naughty things, too!

ISP: Tell us a little about your childhood.

SB: I grew up in Seattle, but I was born in Atlanta. I had kind of a fucked up childhood. I haven’t seen my mom since I was 3 months old. My dad’s been taking care of me since I was an infant. When I was 9 years old, my dad got a girlfriend. I call her stepmom. She’s nuts. She abused me…stabbed me with a knife and fork. Not a nice woman. I got out of that situation when I was 15.

ISP: You were on your own at 15?

SB: Pretty much. I had a job at the mall, and I met my room mate there. He was a platonic friend. I stayed with him for a while, until I met with boyfriend, and I lived with him for a few years.

ISP: What classes did you like in high school?

SB: I loved math. I was a pretty good student. I graduated when I was 16.

ISP: How did you find porn?

SB: Before I got in, I didn’t watch porn at all. I just heard you can make a lot of money doing it, so I started looking around, trying to get in. I found my agent that way. It was a good time, too, cause I just broke up with my boyfriend, and I needed to get out of Seattle. After I talked to my agent, I was out in LA four days later.

ISP: What won’t you do? In real life and on camera?

SB: In my personal life I do anal, but not on camera…yet. No black guys on camera…but I’ll do them in my personal life. No double penetration — on or off camera. I love being tied up, too! Not too rough, though!

ISP: Is penis size important? Is there such thing as too big or too small?

SB: It’s not important. Really. But I’m not going to deal with some overly-sized penis that’s as big as my arm. Like Shorty Mac’s.

ISP: Thongs, bikinis, or granny panties - which do you wear?

SB: None.

ISP: How can your fans get a hold of you?

SB: Try myspace.

ISP: Do you prefer guys that are circumsized or uncircumsized?

SB: Doesn’t matter to me.

ISP: What fantasies are unfulfilled?

SB: I want to have 4 girls and a guy. I want a bunch of pussy, but I still need a dick!

ISP: In her personal life is she aggressive or laid back sexually?

SB: I’m a freak. I’m what you call a nympho. For example, one time on New Year’s Eve me and my boyfriend were 69ing when my boyfriend’s mom walked right by us. Lights on, door open, and she walked right by us. She didn’t even react, but that’s cause she didn’t see us. If she did, she woulda hucked a shoe at me!

ISP: If you could have sex with any historical figure, dead or alive , who would it be?

SB: (Thinking) Who would I want to fuck with? George Washington…with his curly hair!

ISP: Does she have any sort of game plan mapped out for your porn career?

SB: I’m doing only “basics” now, in order to get my name known. I’ll space it out cause I’m getting a lot of work now doing things like B/G and BJ’s. The longer I’m in, the more I’ll do gangbangs, anal, swallowing…everything!

ISP: Do you feel women are exploited in this business? Do you feel exploited?

SB: No, but that’s because I’m not doing scenes like that. No Bangbus…no getting fucked by a dude and tossed out of a van. I only take the work that doesn’t degrade me.

ISP: Wanna go to my private room and practice doggystyle? I promise not to degrade you!

SB: I already know how to do it doggystyle!

ISP: But I can show you how to do it better!!

SB: (laughs) Nope!

Me and Adrianna Nicole — at a corporate coffee house for our morning jolt:

“I need change for the meter,” Adrianna said. She handed me a 10, and I walk in to place our order and get some change for parking.

Suddenly, it hit. A wave of nausea so fierce I knew there would be no escape. I’d be forced to drop The Deuce in a public restroom.

I love the home field advantage when pooping, and when I’m a visitor, it’s got to be a Code Red Situation before I set my big white ass on a dirty toilet seat.

I got the order placed — as well as Adrianna’s change — and walked out to hand it to her. Adrianna’s my Poop Pal, and I wanted to tell her then what was going down in my GI tract, but I waited.

Somehow, I knew the story was going to get better.

And it did.

Corporate Coffeehouse is small, and the bathroom is right next to the place you pick up your order. I walked right in, and — thank Jesus — the seat was clean. Well…as clean as it gets. Of course your eyes can’t detect the filthy microbes swimming all over that dirty plastic seat, but when Code Red sets in, and my options were:

1) Poop my pants

or

2) Poop like a Big Boy.

I chose Number 2.

It was immediate, and it was mighty. A giant turd. The water splashed my butt. King Turd. A Gold Medal Winner. One to make you proud.

I looked in amazement. Then flushed. King Turd swung sideways and didn’t move. Not an inch.

“A LATTE AND AN ICED COFFEE FOR BILLY! BILLY, YOUR ORDER IS READY!”

I panicked. And then I flushed again. This time there was no flush, cause there was no water in The Thingy above the toilet that has the water in it. So I waited.

Coffee Dude screamed my name again, just about the time The Thingy was full. I flushed again, and again, King Turd decided he wasn’t ready to walk towards The Light. King Turd fought for his life, and somehow I knew this was a fight he was going to win.

And the motherfucking toilet took its goddamned time refilling itself.

Coffee Dude screamed my name again.

And again, King Turd won.

So I did what any intelligent person would do…I dropped the top of the seat and hauled ass.

Coffee Dude was there, waiting. Not right there, but right there, behind the counter, looking at me as I walked out of the bathroom. I couldn’t look at Coffee Dude. In fact, I could feel my eyes look up and to the left, and any decent psychologist will tell you that sort of look means trouble.

He watched me pick up my coffee and walk to the bar, where I added my milk and sugar, and he kept his eyes on me the whole time he left his post and walked into the bathroom to see what exactly it was I did in there.

I wish I could write like David Sedaris. Cause as I walked out of Corporate Coffeehouse and to my table to tell Adrianna all about it, “Big Boy” — from Me Talk Pretty One Day — was all I could think about.

That and the contempt and hatred and utter disgust Coffee Dude had for me the very second he met — and had to deal with — King Turd.

Funny how — on Mondays — we make all sorts of resolutions. Whether it’s starting a diet, or starting to work out, or starting to balance your check book, or starting to update your blog on a regular basis…Monday’s are all about a fresh start.

Kinda like New Year’s, only they come weekly instead of annually.

So today I’m thinking I really wanna blog, and it’s Monday, and I should start a routine of sorts here, so perhaps Monday I’ll talk about updates for the sites I shoot. Monday there’s fresh content all over the place, and that’s as good a blog as any…right?

And why not do it every Monday? It’ll help my routine of regular updates here along, and that will make me a better blogger, and, ultimately, a better person. Right?

Well…I dunno about that. But here’s a little rundown on some Phresh Porn Updates featuring my work…and yea, I spelled “fresh” with a “ph”, cause that’s the way I roll, mothafucka.

BLACKS ON BLONDES.com: See Holly Wellin? She’s the girl with her back to you, and she’s in a scary, scary neighborhood…a neighborhood she isn’t familiar with, cause she’s not from the hard streets of LA. She’s not even American, but a foreigner on vacation, and she’s on her cell phone making drastic calls to anyone who can guide her out of the ghetto. That’s where Ice Cold comes in. He rescues her from the ghetto, and, back at his place, coaxes Holly into fucking him. Holly does so under one condition: “No cumming in my pussy!”, she tells Ice. Over and over. While they’re fucking. Until the end…when…guess what? He fills her sweet pussy with jizz.

THE DICK SUCKERS.com: Aliana Love is Dick Sucker #116, and man, is she smokin’ hot. I shot her a few weeks ago for Gloryhole-Initiations, and I liked her so much I asked her back to become a duck sucker once more. Super hot, great attitude, and loves to do what she does!

MANOJOB: Recently, the world’s greatest handjob site posted that we were on the hunt for member submissions for the site. Why not have a member film himself while his girl jerked away? Well, this is our first submission, and it was a dandy! As a matter of fact, it got a little crazy, so I have to issue an apology: to all the handjob enthusiasts at Manojob — I’m sorry this week’s update contains oral sex, vaginal sex, and anal sex. I cannot control what the members submit, nor do I care to. If a big cock sliding into some sweet poontang — or The Brown Star — offends you, I sincerely apologize.

GLORYHOLE.com: Jordan Star is in The Hole this week, and it sure was fun bringing her there. The whole time, in the van, she was giddy. Giddy like…giddy like…shit — I can’t think of an appropriate metaphor for just how giddy Jordan Star was to suck and fuck a stranger through a hole in the wall.

Oh, wait!

Giddy like you are, right now, looking at her perfect sized-D all-natural fun bags, and imagining what in the world a girl-next-door type is doing in such a dirty, filthy place.

It is the function of the artist to evoke the experience of surprised recognition: to show the viewer what he knows but does not know that he knows.

Helnwein is the master of surprised recognition.

– William S. Burroughs

Christian XXX texts:

U answer a long email about being male talent in the biz and don’t mention my daily blog about it at all? Lol. Wow

—————

Oops.

Christian is a bald cat who looks like a cross between a middle linebacker and a pro wrestler. He’s a cool cat, too — and a bit on the controversial side.

Imagine that…being a controversial person in a highly controversial business.

I won’t get into that now, but his blog is called Christian Sings The Blues, and there’s a pic from a scene I shot with Chrsitian and Nicole Parks something like four years ago for Spunkmouth.

Go ahead — click on the pic and watch Christian rail Nicole Parks!

I would definitely bookmark his blog, or subscribe to his RSS feed, or do whatever it is you do to make sure you check it, cause he’s one of the few that actually pays attention to his blog — and updates it regularly — unlike slovenly buttholes like me.

And if you’re a slovenly butthole reader, no worries. Christian posts a lot of cool pictures.

Or is she?

A while back, I shot a newbie named Summer Verona. Barely-legal. Incredible tits. Nice ass. She wound up as Dick Sucker #83 and jerked off our stunt cock for Manojob.

Brian Surewood had referred her to me. Actually, Surewood had given me the number of her “manager”, and I set things up with him. The Manager wasn’t really a suitcase pimp…not in the traditional sense. Most suitcase pimps are either knuckle-head ex-cops or mischievous Negroes; Summer’s manager was neither. He claimed to be a photographer, and he shot for all the stroke mags, and had been — for something like 30 years. The Manager was an OK dude, and he told me he was a “friend” of Summer’s, and that she wanted to do porn, and he would be documenting the whole she-bang for Cherry magazine. All in all our day went well, so I booked Summer again.

I shot her a few weeks later, and watched — in awe — as Ruth Blackwell converted her.

Then, I forgot about her for a while, until she turned up on The Howard Stern show. I’ve been listening to Stern, on and off, since I lived in Texas. Howard’s always got an angle, whether it’s Anal Ring Toss or setting someone’s Grandma on The Sybian. Summer’s deal for Howard was that her “father” waxed her pussy before she’d do a porno scene.

As I listened, her “father” — who I assumed was The Manager I met months earlier — didn’t sound like The Manager at all. I also had to give Summer kudos for dreaming up a story as dumb as “My Dad Waxes My Pussy Before My Porno Scenes” to land on Stern and promote whatever she had to promote. I secretly hoped she’d mention either Manojob or The Dick Suckers; of course, she didn’t.

But The Manager didn’t really sound like The Manager. I called The Manager as I listened to Stern, but no answer. I listened and she did her gig and that was that…and again, I forgot all about Summer Verona.

Gia Paloma watches a lot of bad television in between make-up jobs on set, and the other day it was Tyra Banks. It’s usually Oprah, but that particular day it was Tyra. I can’t confirm this, but I’m sure they’re not on the same time slot, which would be the only reason Gia would be watching Tyra instead of Oprah.

Oprah, Tyra. Tyra, Oprah!

Guess who was on Tyra?

It was Summer alright, and this time she wasn’t a porn star — but a whore. And sure enough, there was dad, supporting her career choice, and waxing her snatch before she’d turn a trick.

And I was right — The Father wasn’t The Manager. I’m quite sure her The Father isn’t her dad, but who knows.

Who cares?

Tyra did her best to humiliate Summer in the same passive-aggressive way The Media loves to harangue people they don’t see eye-to-eye with, and sure enough, before it was all said and done, Summer was in tears.

But damn, can that girl promote herself, or what?

Oh, Summer’s “boyfriend” was on Tyra’s set, and he proposed to her…after letting Tyra’s audience know he didn’t like her whoring ways, and he wanted her to stop selling herself and spend the rest of her days with him.

She accepted.

And I’m quite sure she’ll follow through with that promise, until she needs money, or he loses his job, or both…and then, that sweet, teen, pink Summer Verona pussy will, once again, cost $400 (or so) an hour to bang.

Which is about the same price a decent lawyer will charge you — but less that a good CPA.

I wonder if I can get her to mention Manojob or The Dick Suckers when she returns to work?

(Not the Real) Ron Jeremy writes:

The male porn performer is an interesting, lowly specimen. They appear to have the dream job yet if you look at any of them there is no way in hell I would trade places with them (unless it was for a limited time, like less than a month). I imagine that one who chooses to sling cock for a living has a very lonely life. No civilian chick that has anything going for her is going to want to date you, thus you are relegated to dating porn whores, who bang others for a living. I am guessing most of these dirtbags have criminal records and/or drug issues. I have a few questions regarding meatpuppets/mopes/woodsmen/cocksmiths:

1. Quite a few of them seem to have done gay porn in the past and have crossed over to hetero. Why do you think this is, is there something about banging chicks on film that predisposes you to being a homo, whats the connection?

2. Most look as if their IQ would be in the 50 range. Are most of them dumb as a box of rocks? Who if any have surprised you with intellect/intelligence?

3. Are my presumptions above (lonely, criminal/drugs) accurate when describing 75% of mopes?

3. What is the craziest/funniest/holy shit thing you have experience with these mopes?

I hope you are well and can answer my questions.

——————————————————–

(Not the Real) Ron Jeremy brings up an interesting issue, and one that I haven’t really talked about too much: Male Talent.

A lot of my friends are male talent. Well, I take that back. A lot of acquaintances of mine are male talent, and they are, in fact, an interesting breed.

Obviously, I have to watch what I say here, as I have to work with them, and I don’t want to piss anyone off; furthermore, it’s always dangerous to sum up a group of people — even though people always do it — whatever that group may be: frat boys, jocks, stoners, punk rockers, goth girls, fat girls, black girls, porn girls, or male porn stars.

In general, male talent are sex addicts that have figured it out. This isn’t a bad thing. Let’s face it: most men are sex addicts. I know I am. It’s God’s way to insure the propagation of the species.

A lot of girls are sex addicts, too. Some of them are called “Porn Stars”. Some are called “dental assistants”, and some are called “attorneys”, and some are called “teachers”, and very few are called “nuns”.

Before I digress any further, let’s answer your questions, in your order:

1) Back in the day, gay porn was nothing more than a segue into straight porn. It was that simple. The internet and today’s mass production of smut has pretty much ended that, although I will say most of the male talent working today are bisexual, or, at the very least, bisexual.

2) I can’t really speak to anyone’s intelligence, at least in a public forum. I think, for the most part, the pool of male talent could land a mean score on the SAT.

3) I’ll speak for myself, here: no civilian chick with have anything to do with me, and I’m not even a mope. Which means I’m relegated to dating porn chicks, when I date anyone at all. Which means life can be a lonely game, my friend. And some of the dudes I hire have criminal records, and a history of drug use, but then again, when I was a stockbroker, EVERY guy I worked with had an arrest record and was on coke and fucked whores and strippers and then went home to their wives…so go figure.

In fact, the last time I saw a person die, it was on the floor of the brokerage firm I worked at. Poor sap went into the bathroom after the market closed, did a bunch of coke to prepare himself for a long night cold calling, and BAM — dead.

Crashed like a tree to the floor, flopped around like a fish for a bit, foamed at the mouth for a bit, pissed himself, and then he died right as the paramedics arrived.

3) I see so much funny shit in my job that I could start another blog and just recant the funny shit I deal with on a daily basis. Well…I’d have to lump in weird shit, and aggravating shit, and interesting shit, and frustrating shit, as well as infuriating shit, into the lump of shit called “Funny Shit”. I could also start a whole blog just on my personal experiences with Mr. Brian Pumper, which would cover all of the above, but I won’t.

But I will tell you I recently shot an amateur dude trying to break into the jizz biz for the world’s greatest handjob site — Manojob.com. He did a great job, too, until it was time for The Money Shot. His dick was hard, but he couldn’t cum, so he took a smoke break, and then another smoke break, and then he just hauled ass without telling anyone he was hauling ass. I guess he was just embarrassed he couldn’t pop. Maybe it was the Viagra, or the Cialis, or the Levitra, or that he was freaked out about what he was doing, or all of the above.

Maybe if a dude was jerking him, he woulda been able to pop.

Who knows, really.

Which is where I’ll end this.