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The Sanibel Sunset Detective Returns. Swamp Vortex. Mixed Media. Revitalization Of Water Molecule. Witch Hunt. Note: Other user pages include poetry or essays which would be considered soap boxing on wikipedia, though so too would be using that space for quotations containing the opinions of famous people.

The following questions would be acceptable at the reference desk, helpful for finding quotations that ask or answer these. Let me know if anything here isn't acceptable and I'll delete it. And so I made my first enemy in the business. He published a screed against Joy and me on the front page of Screw, accusing us of practically every offense imaginable — and a few that were unimaginable.

He even attacked my family. That was a turning point because up until then, I could do no wrong.

I was the golden girl of the industry. When I read that story, I was heartbroken. I wanted to give up and quit the business. I was instantly drawn to him. He was so different than any guy I had met before. He had no game. And because of that, I felt comfortable, like I could let down my guard and be myself without worrying that he wanted anything from me.

I returned home to a very different Jordan from the one I had left. My three-week absence had brought out a possessive, patriarchal, and jealous side of him. He insisted that the next time I go on the road, he come along, ostensibly to protect me and make sure I got paid.

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Note: Jenna was sleeping with a stripper named Melissa at the time. The industry will sometimes lie about you and not respect your wishes. All three were on the stands with me on the cover.

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I was the slut of the month. Of course none of them mentioned Jenna Jameson. They called me Shelly or Daisy or Missy. And, though the editors had never spoken a word to me, they featured interviews in which I discussed how inordinately horny I was, how much I like sex with anonymous strangers, and how I fantasized about inviting my girlfriends over for threesomes with my boyfriend.


There was no way I could survive here. These girls would eat me alive. As I was inspecting the bananas like a good monkey, a tall, think, beautiful brunette walked up to me. It was Shauna Ryan, a Penthouse Pet and clearly the alpha female of the tribe.


My pictures appeared in every sex ad and foreign nudie magazine imaginable. She made her living off of enthusiastic new girls like myself, and I understood that and was grateful to her for making me an international cover girl. But there was a bigger problem — she Suze Randall was stringing me along, telling me that each shoot we did just might be a centerfold in Penthouse. However, nothing we did ever appeared there…. So I added Suze to my mental shitlist of people I could not trust and decided to stop working with her. Jeanna was smart, confident, and candid…She was everything I wanted to be.

She just went through the motions, and seemed disconnected the whole time. What could have possibly gone through your mind to make you do something like this? Put the shoe on the other foot: How would you feel if you were brand-new on the dance circuit and some legendary dancer chick came in and took your fucking money? He Howard Stern seemed determined to know what had a made a girl like me become a porn star. I told him I loved. I told him I loved the attention.

He asked if I had a screwed-up childhood, and I said no. He asked if my parents had been strict, and I said no. He asked if my dad and I still talked, and I said we did. He asked if my mom minded what I was doing, and I said no. I had decided in advance that it was better not to discuss her death on the air.

I lied like a rug. Channel called. You will likely be around a lot of people drinking and taking drugs, with a lot of temptation to succumb yourself. It was all part of growing up and finding yourself. In my mind, the so-called bad drugs were meth, coke, and heroin. Unlike acid and mushrooms, these were addictive drugs, and I thought I was too strong and too smart ever to fall in to that trap. But slowly and sure, it happened. But now, at twenty, my career was already over.

You punch the clock and go to work. A boyfriend can be a nightmare for your career and your emotional health. Traveling to Los Angeles meant flying high and risking getting caught with speed at the airport. So I started posing only for photographers in Las Vegas. Let the tension out of your face. There were no magazines for guys with fetishes for anorexic meth freaks at the time.


I was addicted…. I looked down at my hand, and my fingertips were black from all the time spent holding hot cigarette lighters under meth pipes. The only person I hang out with is a fucking Mexican crack whore who calls me mija. I stepped on it. The dial spun and wobbled under the red needle until it stopped on a number. And that number was eighty. I weighed eighty pounds. It had strings of brittle blond hair that had snapped off at various lengths; eyes recessed deep into the sockets and surrounded by bruised black circles; cheekbones sharp enough to draw blood; and its complexion was sickly cyanotic.

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The devil was my own reflection. I had made my living with my looks, and now they were gone: the beautiful blond hair, the full smiling face, the big bedroom eyes. All the curves that men paid thousands of dollars just to look at had melted away to reveal a skeleton in rags. You punch the clock and you go to work. For hours, I rehearsed what I was going to say in my head. They either pretended to be voracious sex kittens or poor wounded birds…. I wanted to hold my own against the pressure and manipulation… Few girls left that studio without looking like bimbos.

And, unlike movie making, I had to get it right or risk national humiliation…. Instantly, the grilling started. You really are a psycho.