Girlvert: A Porno Memoir (25 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Bukkake (Death) and Taxes

S
ome
things in life are simply inescapable. There are famous sayings about these things. I’d heard the expression “death and taxes” before. I thought I could excuse myself from both while I was young.

The first couple of years, I did file my tax returns. I’d messed them up terribly in 2003 and received a letter of correction. The IRS told me to pay six thousand more dollars than the twenty-five hundred I’d wanted to pay. Keep in mind that I’d made over one hundred thousand dollars that year. I ignored the letter. I continued to ignore all of the letters that came to my apartment for the next three years. I had a special stack on my kitchen counter reserved for the Franchise Tax Board and the IRS. When the stacks would get too high and topple over, they were moved into a Nordstrom’s bag in my closet.

When I moved in with Dave I finally dealt with my tax problem. I honestly thought that a miracle would occur and I would get lost in the system. I blame that kind of thinking on the influence of religion. Blind faith is not a good quality to apply to tax evasion.

Dave and I wanted to get married and we couldn’t do it as long as my taxes were a threat. Marriage as my motivation, action was taken. The envelopes had to be opened—by an attorney.

It turned out that I had been audited in 2004. I had to go through every bank transaction for the past five years. There were so many cash withdrawals at two in the morning that we didn’t even count them. Aside from sometimes spending a thousand dollars per week on coke, I paid for sailing lessons for Tyler. I bought Kris a thousand dollar Gucci watch. I took taxis and town cars everywhere. In one year, I spent eight thousand on car accidents. My phone bills were eight hundred dollars a month. Most of it went to things that I have nothing to show for now.

Dave and I read through my life in those bank statements. So much excess, I felt like a pig. I’d paid my friend and former neighbor Oliver nine thousand dollars to be my accountant. I gave him my checkbook and trusted him to mind my finances. He’d come to me asking for a bookkeeping job. I didn’t think he was taking advantage of me when he wanted to be paid five hundred dollars a week, tax-free, for sticking paperclips on all of my utility bills and making files for them.

I’m sure there are others who have done well with all of their porn money, but in no way am I alone. I know girls who have never once paid their taxes or even opened one of their IRS envelopes. But they will. You must die first, or feed the monster.

I ended up owing twenty-six thousand dollars for three years of delinquency to the IRS and Franchise Tax Board. I remembered purposely not counting how much money I was making from all of my scenes. I didn’t want to know. I was afraid of knowing. I don’t know why I felt that way, because it could have been so easy for me to fix the taxes right as they happened.

Cleaning up the taxes wasn’t the only thing I had to do. I had to come to terms with the aging process. It’s different for a girl in the porno movies. You can be an old hag at twenty-three, just like in legit modeling. I’d stayed popular for many years by porno standards. The average girl’s career is only two years. My span was pushing six.

Even if I didn’t look that much different than my first day and first scene, I had definitely matured. My body wasn’t a little girl’s body anymore. Naturally, my bones had to grow and my hips and ass filled out. Thank god I didn’t get fake tits or lips. Not to say that I enjoy gravity settling in, or the elasticity of my skin starting to loosen, but I still appreciate how my body turned out.

Most importantly, I no longer desperately required the approval of the variety of men who paid me to, or who watched me, fuck. The stability and happiness I found with Dave replaced the importance of being a contract girl with JM Productions. Sandy was happy for me when I got sober and found a partner in Dave. Jeff said he was happy for me, but I became less valuable to him as I became less of a disastrous porno star. I wasn’t going to hang out with customers, party with them and let them jerk off on my back like I used to.

There was no doubt now that I would move on somewhat from porn and fill my days with other things. I was once so scared that porno would be the only thing I would do well or make money at. Now, I was growing stronger and could face down my demons, my fears.

When Jeff and I got into an argument over me refusing to do a bukkake, our contract was over. He screamed at me over the phone and I was physically shaken, as usual. This time though, I could see that it was ridiculous. I was a grown woman, not a frightened little girl. Jeff told me that I owed him a JM bukkake—a scene where sixty or so men jerk off onto a girl’s face.

The guys that perform in these scenes are basically off of the street. JM puts an ad in the
LA Weekly
with a phone number to call if you want to “get into the porn business.” They call it the Bukkake Hotline, a recording on Jim’s answering machine that tells the guys where to get tested and when to show up. The end result is a collection of the rankest porno dudes that are ever caught on video. They define a whole genre of creep that still has yet to compare to anything I've experienced inside or outside of porn.

I knew about the bukkake series and made it clear that it was something I would never do. It’s a fine idea as long as I’m not the one doing it. Nothing could sway me to get ejaculated on by the gnarly minions. Jeff sort of respected my decision over the years and didn’t pressure me until now. He’d mention it from time to time, and tried to make me feel guilty for being his only contract girl that refused to star in the bestselling series. I’d been in a couple of the bukkake films, but only frying cum and putting it in a blender. I handled all of the grey, green, brownish, yellow loads. The consistency of bukkake cum is of infected phlegm. The stench of the room ends up reeking of unclean bleach. Infected bleach.

I thought we had a working compromise when I helped create the lesbian bukkake. Instead of a roomful of hideous men, I settled for fifty-five porno girls squirting on my face. Some of them pissed and the others squeezed ice-cold douche water up their cunts and sprayed it onto my half-naked body.

When Jeff called me up screaming, he was also pissed about the lesbian bukkakes because I had been standing out of the scenes for the last few movies. I was supposed to be one of the girls squirting. I thought he knew about it already because he watched every scene in every movie before it went to duplication. I wasn’t trying to deceive him. The girls in these scenes were also not from the usual talent pool. They often had highly contagious staph infections. Staph goes around like wildfire in the porn business, and it leaves scars if you have to get it cut out. I was afraid of having contact with any of these women. I made an executive decision and took myself out of the scenes. I couldn’t explain anything to Jeff. He said, “You’re doing a bukkake or you’re fired!”

It was shameful to let this man make me sick with fear. I couldn’t bring this kind of conflict into my life now that I shared it with Dave. I had to have some respect for myself, and for the one I loved. I had been dependent on my salary from JM Productions for three years straight. Having that steady income and reliability was somewhat institutionalizing for me. I would have to go back into the general talent pool again and compete for DPs with girls five and six years younger than me. My ego was on the brink of suicide.
Don’t do this! Everyone will call you a crackhead. You’re not young anymore. Porn has used you up and is done with you. JM is all you’ve got.
The voice of doom wouldn’t quit. I did it anyway. On February 13th, 2007, I called Jeff at JM and resigned. The conversation was short and polite, but I was lightheaded from it.

At first my split with JM Productions felt like a breakup with a long-term boyfriend. There were bitter feelings of betrayal on both sides. But it didn’t last long. They were just growing pains. Jeff and Sandy turned out to be supportive of my decision to end my role as their contract girl. The Girlvert, however, would live on. I would continue the series as a free agent. On that common interest, we all saw eye to eye and it made for an amicable new working relationship.

JM Productions was dismissed of all the obscenity charges in November of 2007. Only one movie was deemed obscene by the city of Phoenix, Arizona.
Gag Factor 18
, starring an old pal of mine, Christie. The jury found this one movie to be too violent.

During the whole film, Christie is saying to the camera how she wishes she could be just like Ashley Blue.

Epilogue

A
s
I passed the six-year anniversary of my first porno scene, I was becoming what the business refers to as a lifer. It would have bothered me if someone had prophesized it years ago. My original intention was to just do a couple scenes to get me to a rock concert. I have gone so far with it, farther than I’d ever imagined.

Beyond six, seven, eight years, I don’t feel damaged from my experiences in porn. I am at ease knowing that there are hundreds of videos with me naked and getting fucked. I don’t have a problem with watching people in the nude having sex. It is a natural urge. The sex business has taught me compassion and tolerance, more than I believe I would have understood in an otherwise typical Southern California life.

The drugs were damaging. Drugs are for the young, and I got it out of my system at a good time. Older people look so stupid when they are fucked up and trying to hold on to something as intangible as youth. Youth can never be brought back, swallowed back, held back, or sold. I still worry about Tyler. Last I heard, he’s in The Program. He may be surrounded by bible-thumpers, but I am happy to know that he’s still alive. If Dave hadn’t come along, I don’t think I would have stopped in time to have any part of a brain left.

My experiences in porn have been so unique, and I cherish them. I have an appreciation for even the darkest hours. They contain for me a truth of existence that nobody can take away. Now that the pimply, eighteen year old razor-rash herpes-asses and the shit, piss, vomit, blood, gonorrhea, and cum-farts are gone, I can truly say I pushed myself into unknown passages—my senses, my body, and my mind worked out in extremes that are forever my own. I am obsessed with reduction. The definition of reduction to me is a large, mysterious mixture made smaller, concentrated, stronger, and containing the finality of truth.

If it weren’t for porn, I would have never met Dave Naz, my husband. Our relationship is the most important thing that’s happened in all of my years in porn.

I don’t exactly know what I’m doing now. I have been put out to pasture, in a way. I am a married lady and a writer. I still do work sometimes, sometimes for other people, but mostly for Dave. Life after a six-year full-time porno career is not full of appetizing offers. Many fading starlets turn to high-priced escorting to make the same amount of money as they did in porn.

I am not nearly as busy as I used to be. That’s just the way it goes with the nature of instant fame—poof! And then it wanes. It is somebody else’s turn to reign in the spotlight. I’m happy for the new faces I see in the business. In them, I see myself. I want to warn them of all the things people warned me about, the things I myself had ignored. Don’t do too much coke, and pay your taxes! They will find out on their own.

I am painting and drawing again. Just when I thought all of my natural talent had vanished from prolonged drug use, I found that it was only lying dormant. Since I have a clear mind, the more traditional visual artist in me has returned. The hardest part is remembering how to be free from character. Navigating the unknown is scary. There is no acting on the canvas. It’s a different type of freedom, of reality. I used to have the honor of pretending to be someone else. Ashley Blue’s scenes were demanding, but not as challenging as facing a blank canvas.

Is pornography art? It’s something that is appealing or repelling just by looking at it, so I will say yes. Can a regular girl end up being in the sex business overnight? In my experience, the answer is yes. But can a porno girl ever become anything else in life but a warm hole? I want to say yes. I am trying to incorporate these two colliding worlds into a harmonious union. The pornography I’ve done, and periodically continue to do, will never go away. It’s with me beyond forever, even after I’m dead. It is something that I will be remembered for. Porn is just a part of life. Then you move on because there are other things out there. I’m twenty-nine years old and fading out of porn gracefully. It will not be all that I am remembered for. There are other contributions I want to make to the world besides inciting orgasms, though I’m honored for the ability to do that, too.

This experience is my truth. I own it. I bear witness to my own life. I value this more than anything.

SELECT FILMOGRAPHY

5 Guy Cream Pie 2,
2002

Assault That Ass #2,
2002

Barely Legal #27
, 2002

Don’t Tell Mommy! 2,
2002

Down The Hatch #9,
2002

Fast Times At Deep Crack High Vol. 8, 2002

Girlvert #2
, 2002

Grrl Power! 11
, 2002

More Dirty Debutantes Volume 227
, 2002

School Bus Girls,
2002

Service Animals 10
, 2002

7 The Hard Way,
2002

Spring Chickens,
2002

Straight To The A #2,
2002

Throat Gaggers #3,
2002

Young & Anal 2,
2002

18 & Ready To Fuck #2,
2003

18 Yr Old All-Star Whores,
2003

Ass Cream Pies 4,
2003

American Gunk,
2003

Ass Lickers Vol. 1,
2003

Best Butt In The West 6,
2003

Bitches Behind Bars,
2003

Black Up That White Ass
, 2003

Bootylicious 41: Swirl
, 2003

Glazed And Confused,
2003

I Fucked My High School Teacher 3,
2003

I Like It Black And Deep In My Ass 2,
2003

Internal Combustion,
2003

Italian Sausage,
2003

Little White Slave Girls 4,
2003

Loose Morals 2,
2003

The Most Beautiful Girl In The World,
2003

Pull My Hair And Call Me Stupid,
2003

Attention Whores,
2004

Bust My Hole,
2004

Cock Attack,
2004

Cum Buckets!,
2004

Cum Dumpsters,
2004

Dyke Club,
2004

Gag Factor 15
, 2004

Guttermouths 26
, 2004

Lesbian Bukkake,
2004

Liquid Gold 9,
2004

Oral Hygiene 3,
2004

White Trash Whore 30,
2004

American Bukkake Twenty-Six,
2005

Bootylicious: Slaves for the Black Man,
2005

Irritable Bowel Syndrome,
2005

Meatholes #3,
2005

Piss Mops #2
, 2005

Anal Full Nelson,
2006

The Cream Team,
2006

Greatest Cum Sluts Ever!,
2006

Jam Packed Assholes,
2006

Reverse Bukkake,
2006

She Swallows Black Dick #2,
2006

Skater Girl Fever,
2006

Barely Legal Christmas,
2007

Bondage & Perversion In L.A.,
2007

Clusterfuck
, 2007

Crack Addict 7,
2007

I’ve Been Sodomized 4,
2007

Throated #11,
2007

White Wife Black Cock #8,
2007

4 in the Pink, Four in the Stink #3,
2008

Anal Beach Buns,
2008

Circa ’82,
2008

Gapeman 2,
2008

It’s A Secretary Thing!,
2008

L.A. Lust,
2008

Perverse,
2008

Slave Dolls Volume 3,
2008

Strap Attack 8,
2008

Sugar Town,
2008

Young Hollywood,
2008

Digging In The Gapes Vol. 3,
2009

L.A. Girls Love Big Cocks,
2009

Cheating Housewives,
2009

Pretty Sloppy 2,
2009

Make Them Gag,
2010

Turbo Rock,
2010