Just Call Me Randall P. McMurphy.

Spring Thomas Interracial cougar

I just hung up the phone with Jason Brown. He called to tell me that, in addition to not being able to make tomorrow’s blow bang, he was retiring from porn altogether.

Effective immediately.

Jason Brown is male talent, and I don’t talk a whole lot about male talent; even though they’re just as whacky as the female talent…mainly cause they’re lacking mammary glands and a vagina, so you really don’t wanna hear about the dudes, right?

But this one is just too good to pass up.

That’s Jason sitting next to Spring Thomas, and he’s about to bang the shit out of her. Jason’s really great talent, and he’s a nice guy…but tonight’s phone call got really fucking weird.

“Hey Billy, you got a sec? Cause we need to talk.”

I know Jason well enough to know he likes to talk a lot, and it takes him a while to get to the point, and I just wasn’t in the mood. “Are you coming to the blow bang tomorrow or not?”

“That’s what we need to talk to you about. Tell me something…are you happy with your life?”

Uh huh. As in uh huh, this is really where the conversation was going, and I knew it was gonna get interesting. And, like I said, I wasn’t in the mood to fuck around with him on the phone. “Dude, it’s a yes-no answer. That makes it simple. It certainly isn’t rocket science. Are you coming to the blow bang tomorrow or not?”

Jason said, “No, I’m not, and, in fact, I’m quitting porn.”

This kinda surprised me, which made me all ears: “OK, I’m listening. What’s up, Jason?”

Jason asked, “Do you know a lot about the world?”

To which I replied, “Is this a trick question?”

“No man, I’m serious.”

“Well, I thought I knew a few things about the way the world works, but after being in porn a few years, and spending time with people who make their living in the sex business, I’d say I’m back to learning more and more. What’s on your mind Jason?””

Then Jason asked me, “Are you a happy person?”

I had a pretty good idea what was coming next, but the anticipation was just killing me…so I went with it. “Yea, I guess. For the most part. What’s on your mind Jason?”

“Do you know what an oxymoron is?”

I kid you not. I wish I was making this shit up, or exaggerating…but nope. Neither. “Um, yea, I think I have a pretty good understanding of oxymorons. What’s on your mind Jason?”

“I love you Billy. This is why I need to talk to you. About oxymorons, and this Earth, and if you think you’re a good person — or a bad person. You know good and bad, right? It’s an oxymoron, and I think you need to be a good person on this Earth. You’re a good person, I think. Do you think you’re good, or bad? And are you happy with what you’re doing?”

I kid you not. I wish I was making this shit up, or exaggerating…so, in order to fuck with him a little, I said something like, “I have good days and bad days. I try and treat people with courtesy and respect. And I think I know a better oxymoron for you to think about, but it’s the cliché of oxymorons, so I hope it doesn’t disappoint you — so here goes. Jumbo shrimp.”

“Exactly!” he said. “That’s what I’m talking about! When a person tells you one thing and brings you something else!!”

I kid you not. I wish I was making this shit up…or exaggerating. But I’m not. And so far, I have no fucking idea what Jason is saying to me, but I think I know what direction he’s going. Cause all of a sudden he’s talking about God — in addition to oxymorons, the good and the bad, the Earth, and his overwhelming need to “show me something”.

Oh, and jumbo shrimp. I’m just glad I didn’t bring up military intelligence.

“What theology do you want to talk to me about, Jason?”

“It’s not that. I just need to show you something!”

“What specific theology would you like to talk about, Jason?”

“No dude, you’re not listening to me!”

I repeated myself, again.

“Look, I’m a Christian, and I believe in God, and I really need to show you something.”

To which I replied, “Jason, I’m late. I’m meeting some friends for dinner. I wish you nothing but success and good fortune with your future endeavors. Take care of yourself and — ”

I was about to say good luck, but he was gone. Jason had either hung up on me, or he had lost his signal. So I called him back, cause if that Silly Mofo hung up on me, I was gonna be pissed.

So I called him back. “Jason, did you just hang up on me?”

“What just happened Billy? Can you tell me what just happened?!”

I couldn’t wait to hear. Really…I couldn’t. This was the best shit I’ve heard since, well…let’s see. It’s the best shit I’ve heard since another dude I used to shoot told me I wear t-shirts on set with the sole purpose of “fucking with his head”.

“Let’s see. Um…either you hung up on me, or you lost your signal.”

“I hung up on you, but there’s a reason I hung up on you!”

So, as Jason tried to explain “realities” and “perceptions” to me, I thought about Ken Kesey’s great novel, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. You might have read the book; I’m sure you saw the movie.

Cause, for a quick moment, I had this totally surreal thought in which I suddenly became the main character of Kesey’s book, and all these fucking crazies who have surrounded me now for years had made me as crazy as they are.

Or am I the one who’s truly whacked out of his skull — and they’re sane?

The thought only lasted a few more seconds before I cut Jason off and wished him luck and all the other nice things I mentioned earlier — like future endeavors and good fortune.

Then I grabbed my gear and hauled ass to dinner, cause this whole silly ordeal lasted way longer than it should have. And now I’m kinda pissed, cause I have to spend my dinner time calling various black dudes to see which one of them wants to get paid to get their dick sucked tomorrow morning.

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