A survivor in this industry, Cory currently works for Wegcash as the Director of Product Development. He loves this industry and has worked with some of the big names in the biz. Loved by many in the industry, Cory has an interesting background we hope he will share with us in this interview.
Pictures complements of Fubar
- check it out the photo archive of all webmaster events!
GFY Ambush Interview thread on Cory
Just how many webmasters have bought you a hooker? Does your girlfriend know about all the hookers you do?
I am not and never have been big into escorts. However, I will not lie and say that it has never happened, as it has happened on a few occasions in my life (I am age 30 now).
One incident did occur whereas a webmaster sent an escort to my room. All I will say regarding that situation is that it was totally unexpected and that the person who did it has some very good taste : )
And after that, nothing in this industry shocks me anymore.
I am now in love to be honest. My past is my past, I had a lot of fun, but the current state of my life as well as the future is much different now, and much better. We are monogamous and she really is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I have the best romance I could ever ask for now : )
You have some sources! I have never been asked about that : )
Does sharing a room with Poppy have it's advantages/disadvantages? What's your relationship with him?
Well, the advantage is that he is one of my very good friends who certainly looked after me during my transition to the “PPS industry,” so I am very comfortable sharing a room and accessories with him. We have the same taste in clothing, so the closet is more than beautiful, it is work of art, just ask KK. Haha
Poppy is also a very dedicated worker, the guy honestly works constantly from the room. I unplugged his connection so that we could leave for a party in Phoenix (sorry to whatever Jupiter Hosting client was online). haha
Disadvantages? Well, Poppy is an extremely energetic guy that elevates all those around him, however wonderful that may be, getting a nap is almost impossible.
I have a host of great memories with the guy, next weekend, him, Eric and a few others are getting together for some snowboarding in Lake Tahoe, I am looking forward to being around some of my favorite people and making even more memories!
Talk about your background with Adult Check.
Back in 1999, I took the spill into the world of Ecommerce. Honestly, I knew nothing about the Internet. The company was venture capitalist funded and provided internet users with up-to-date traffic information. My job was managing the team that called up the DMV centers and asked for information regarding road construction. The team had one person on it: me. I called around 40 state centers everyday and asked them if they were doing construction. In almost all cases, they would get upset at me. So in turn, I would make it up. No kidding, the entire site was based on me making up fake traffic jams. Users logged on to avoid construction sites that were merely a figment of my imagination. And didn't do this via my own accord, I was asked to make it up everytime the center yelled at me.
After about 6 months, the site began to decline and the venture capitalist began to pull out of the deal. I guess they thought creative construction zoning was not very effective. This was consistent with what we all know as the “ecomm crash” that effected many of you. As the VC’s began to become critical of the business, I made up more construction sites, I wanted to save the day. But it was to no avail : )
Since I was the guy updating the site, I knew I would be the last to go, however certain death was obvious. So I began going through the papers looking for other jobs. I was terrified, I had been a waiter for years and I my strength was dissecting early 20th century literature and working in comedy: not necessarily trademarks of someone on the brink of success in the New Internet World that had manifested itself right before our eyes in a matter of a couple of years.
So I made up my resume and began sending it out to jobs looking for ecomm / project type people. I felt that most of the jobs I would not be qualified for, but I hoped I could get through an interview citing my ability to present a level of ambition that would intice the company to hire me.
Everything was great, however, a few pretty serious problems stood out:
2) I wasn’t sure what the term “webmaster” meant.
Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I will try anything. It is a part of my character, a part that I feel has taken me places I never would have seen otherwise. With this in mind, I arranged a plan.
I went to the Borders books in West Hollywood for the next two nights and copied all the basic code out of the shelved books and into a notebook. Those books were much too expensive for me to afford, so I had to make due. I booted up my old Compaq laptop and began to work the 250MB of Ram to a challenging extent. I would type the code, right click, save as .html and see what would happen. I stayed up all night each night trying to figure it out.
One note I would like to make here is that I was doing this for a job that paid a starting hourly rate of $10 an hour. I am always baffled at this industry as it seems that opportunist are few and far between.
Before I went into the interview, I wrote down code on my arms to serve me in the event of emergencies.
I was immediately greeted with a cute secretary who asked that I hand over a copy of my resume and have a seat. I was immediately seated next to a cute, darling girl that must have been around age 24. She had her hair slung over her right ear lobe and was nervously focused on her cover letter and an impressive business bag was folded out presenting a series of pens, papers, notebooks and organizational tabs.
I was intimidated as well as hopeful we could both get hired and I would sleep with her at the Christmas party. That thought alone likely separated me from her, and lead directly to the next event.
Within 5 minutes of being called in for the interview, her “how to win friends and get a job now” smile had faded to a grimace; her walk out the front door had transitioned from upstanding and confident to beleaguered with dissatisfaction.
“My god!” I thought, “what had happened in that interview room and what does this mean for the Christmas party?”
Within two minutes of her exit from my ambitious stage of preplanning for the holidays, I was asked to come back. I was led through what appeared to be a renovated garage, mostly concrete, which was conducive to echoing voices and footsteps alike. A quiet, passive asian guy led me around a corner.
“This is the work area.” He said passively.
Well, the first thing I noticed was dogs walking about everywhere. There were big dogs, little dogs and medium sized dogs roaming between cubicles, slurping from water bowls and wagging their tails in anticipation of peeing on me (I am only guessing on the latter portion of course). Adult Check was very dog friendly, something I always appreciated.
The second thing I noticed was this large, burly bohemian of a man hosting a bag of cheetos on his cubicle table and a big picture of a man sticking his penis inside of a woman’s ass. I am not into anal, so to be honest, this was my first time to experience anal; and that experience came at the helm of a burly man and a bag of cheetos inside a garage in the San Fernando Valley.
Moving on, I was led into an office. The passive asian guy asked me a few very simple questions, I answered them satisfactorily. He then explained things in detail:
“Basically, you look at porn site, email webmaster if picture does not work.”
And I was hired.
The job was just as simple as he explained and I became a lot more experienced in anal as the weeks progressed. In fact, I was the new guy and got to mill through all the gay sex links.
But I wanted more. Not anal, but more from the job, probably less anal would do. So I began making friends with all the webmasters and asking for advice. I began working late hours. I was driven to make myself more than what I was. I had no desire at all to stay where I was.
The path was promising, and gained hope several months later when I was asked to go to a show. Back in the day, Adult Check played host to enormous booths and cash machines. They would bring at least 10 employees just to help with setup alone. I went, people seemed to like me, and my role at Adult Check increased. I would later be promoted and began working along side AVN Edison and Netbabe. I took more of a business role, working underneath of Brad Estes (now with Video Secrets). I learned a lot from him and from the company, without that opportunity, I would imagine I would have ended up somewhere else and not in adult. I traveled the world and eventually headed up the Business Development department.
Working for such a large company put on display what a lot of heart and ingenuity can do for you. The transition to what many refer to as “the other side” or “PPS” side was tough, AVS systems ran primarily on revshare. However, it always amazes me that people think that only the PPS models are successful. I am sure that guys like Cyberage Dave are doing more signups than many affiliate programs.
What happened when you crashed at Lightspeed's house? Why did his dog bite you?
One off my very good friends in the Industry, Vanilla Deville, was having her birthday party in Phoenix. CCBill hooked us up with a bus and vip at a strip club and Steve of course allowed people to come to house for an afterhours. Both CCBill and Lightspeed should both be commended for how generous they are.
The night started off at Vanilla and Stewie’s home where we were picked up by the CCBill bus and taken to Christies Strip Club. Vanilla is a draw, she has a lot of friends, and this adored girl’s birthday party was filled to the brim. I was having a great time, roaming around talking to everyone, however there came a point where I knew I needed to take things to the next level. So I ordered 2 vodka/ tonics, 3 strippers and a table with a view.
By “view” I mean I could see other strippers.
The strippers piled into the round table and the vodka began to flow. If there is anything in this world that strippers love, it is vodka, cocaine, ecstacy, large bills, all expense paid vacations, and VIP sections.
1 out of 6 is not too damn bad.
There was only one problem in my Tommy Lee world however, the CCBill bus was leaving; this was a problem, I have a history in Phoenix and it does not include finding places. Actually, it does include a rap sheet. (more on that later).
Vanilla walked up to my table, I am pretty sure she was not impressed with the fact that it overlooked stage 2 as she did not look happy. I was holding up the bus.
Vanilla immediately regulated all the strippers and made me leave. In fact if I recall, it went something like this:
“It’s either Vanilla or these strippers, now.”
That choice was pretty simple, I found myself boarding the bus within 30 seconds and $200 later.
The bus was heading to the Lightspeed house, the meca in terms of hospitality.
Steve and Shannon are two of the really great people in the industry for having everyone over. The place was all set up and the drinking continued.
At some point unbeknownst to me, I wandered towards the bathroom. At this point, I met the Lightspeed dog.
It did not take long until I realized that the dog had a bit of an attitude. I reached down to pet the little fellow, but he ran away and I am pretty sure he called me some type of a name. And even if he didn’t, I am pretty sure he was thinking something nasty about me.
So I followed him down the hall and into a bedroom, Easton was directly on my trail. I was very unaware of my positioning in the home when I reached down to pet the dog; At this point, I turned to Easton who asked me a very logical question:
“Dude, why are you in Steve’s shower with the Lightspeed dog?”
This question made sense on a lot of levels and was very shocking at the same time.
It was then that the dog bit me and ran. He ran like the wind. He ran like an evil runs from good (biblical sense of course).
But this night would prove to only be beginning. In typical Phoenix fashion, I left the party to walk down to get a pack of smokes.
Prior to this, Steve and Shannon had both told me I could sleep at the house. They made up the guest bed just for me.
And then I was totally lost in some neighborhood. I could not find a pack of smokes or the Lightspeed mansion.
I ended up getting a town car to drive me around, I ended up in some motel. The next morning, I called Sheri and Easton for a ride. I still have no idea where I slept that night.
I get nervous anytime I go into Arizona. Nothing close to that happens anywhere else.
How many people from the industry have you had sex with?
I have been in the industry for a good while and was single up until pretty recently. I had a lot of fun. I have never been a namedropper and have always been very private in my relations.
I don’t know the number, but I have had some great romantic encounters with a few girls out there
Did you and JFK always get along?
I am reserving this question for later as it ties in with a different question: at least I assume so; I have a good guess at why it is asked.
Ever been accused of rape by a content girl? Discuss.
Haha, well I know who asked this one!
This is an inside joke among some of us guys. To be honest, it is funny, but if I tried to explain it, it might seem a bit inappropriate. I don’t know how it got started, but a few guys I know used to say it to me when I was talking to girls (where as she could not hear).
Sometimes people just like to give me a hard time and see my reaction. Rather extreme way of going about it, but I am no angel in terms of kidding around.
It has no legs, but someone is getting a foot in the ass soon.
What sort of grooming products do you use?
Not having any hair makes the list pretty short to begin with. I use Polo body wash, lever 2000, noxema face wash and the Mach 3. : )
Is your girlfriend a cover for your homosexuality?
I know this is the industry rumor hahahahaha8230;.I am straight, however, people thinking I am gay is not a new deal. It started in highchool when I got the lead role in a play, I was pretty much doomed from that point. I also got into photography, loved writing and was pretty good at analyzing poetry, etc.
How many times have you had herpes? Other STDs?
10 plus times according to me. Actually I have never had an STD, but the story goes something like this.
I am terrified of STD’s. I am so terrified that I am irrational. I have always been this way. I wear condoms while watching pornos. If I even feel a slight tinge while peeing or something looks slightly off, I pretty much think I have herpes.
I was 18 years old when I caught my first case of curable herpies. My friend, Scott Vermellion (now a pretty well known soccer player in the US) and I went out one night. We ended up doing what all 18 year old guys in Kansas do, cruising Taco Bells waiting for hot girls to swing through the drive through.
And we hit the jackpot this night, we got two very cute girls and a bag of tacos to go in the beginning of the night.
We drove around most of the night, one of the girls had this convertible Mustang and we had the top down. I was in the backseat with my arm around one of the girls while Scott was showing her friend how to drive stick. It was just like a movie. Whenever we would go fast, the wind would thrash and my girl and I would kiss. Whenever the car would stop at a light, I would hold her hand tighter and smile at her. Whenever the car would go slow, I would try to put my hand up her shirt and hope that she considered that foreplay.
As the night began to wrap, I invited my girl over to my parents house (I lived there until I left for college). She took the invitation with open arms. We went up to my room and I threw on the movie and turned the lights out. I waited 2 minutes, then I started fondling again and soon enough, we were taking clothes off.
There is absolutely nothing more fulfilling then a plan gone right.
The heat got hotter, and she performed oral sex on me. After the beautiful act was complete, she told me she needed to go home. She was a dream come true.
The next morning, I awoke ready to call my high school friends and brag. You see, as a guy in highschool, getting that far with a girl is great because you get to exagerrate 10 percent on top of the actual act. Therefore, I pretty much had sex last night.
But something was wrong, there was a pain in my groin area. It was a sharp well dispersed pain. I had my morning erection, but the pain was too bad for me to touch it.
I became concerned.
I got up and walked to the bathroom around 9am. Walking hurt. I was too frightened to pee, so I jumped in a hot shower. The pain seemed to go away, but it was a false sense of hope; it would return later and with more intensity with my next erection, some time around 9:30am I think.
At 9:40am, the situation got worse as another erection brought pain and wrath to my life.
My god, what had I done? I wanted to take back the past night. I wanted to start over. I didn’t want herpes.
So I called my doctor’s office. The doctor’s assistant girl answered. I told her my symptoms and I told her of my incurable condition. She would not let me talk to the doctor and told me I needed to come in for a swab.
Not sure if all of you know what I mean by a swab, but it made me cry.
She kept consoling me, she told me that herpes does not flare up the next morning and that oral sex would not foster it all that well.
As the conversation continued, she began to grow somewhat frustrated with my neurotic inquisitions. The exchange continued on something like this:
“Do you see red abrasive spots along the base of your penis?”
“How many girls have you had sexual intercourse with over the last two months?”
“What does it look like around your testicles?”
“Well, there is some blue looking growths between my testicles, inner thys and the base of my penis, and it all hurts real bad.”
“Sir, is it gum?”
“What do you mean?”
"Bubble gum sir, is bubble gum stuck down along your genitals?”
If you have ever had bubble gum plastered on your genitals, then you know that whenever you walk or get an erection, it pulls out the hair in your inner thys. You also know that it is rather embarrassing when you get called out by the doctor's nurse. You probably also know that using a butter knife and peanut butter to get it out is very tedious.
Oh yes, it is also not herpes.
Discuss exporting ecstasy to Mardi Gras.
I would like to preface this. I was asked to do this Interview. I agreed to the terms, therefore I am breaking my normal set of PR beliefs and fullfilling my obligation. I do not believe in dodging questions unless I am legally obligated to do so.
I do not condone drugs, the following is an incident which occurred in my 20s. I do not do drugs now.
The line for the New Orleans bound flight from LAX was slow to move towards the plane’s entry. An impromptu security isolation spot was set up just off the ticketing counter, the first point whereas passenger tickets are scanned for boarding.
The flight was bound for Mardi Gra. I am from Louisiana and always met friends in New Orleans for events such as Mardi Gra, New Year’s eve and Jazz fest.
My anxiety began to heighten, as it seemed everyone was being pulled inside the isolation ropes. It is funny, I have never tried to take anything illegal on a plane, yet every time I see people getting searched, I feel the need to double-check my bag on the off chance that a mysterious handgun or carving knife will appear (funny, I am anti-gun and I don’t really carve things). So fueled by the irrational, I search my bag.
I find change: “I could have set off metal detectors with that!”
I find old chapstick: “good deal, I have my addiction to feed”
I find a water bill: “fuck”
And I find two green pills with Nike symbols engraved in them wrapped in a cellophane bag.
Lets back up about one month.
Sometime in January following New Year’s eve, the club on Sunset Blvd I was working at began winding down. It was 3am, most of us staff were busy cleaning the establishment. The place got tormented on Saturday nights by a packed Hollywood crowd, which left the place in total disarray.
It was then that the idea of driving to Vegas sprang into our minds. Anyone who lives in Los Angeles knows that Vegas trips tend to manifest faster than stomach flus: once the idea is pitched, it tends to develop quickly into a real plan.
So we load up the Ford F150 (or whatever big truck the guy had) and we are off to Las Vegas. We talk about guy things, I talk about shoes, times are nice.
We drove through the desert, much of which was flooded out due to winter rains. We arrived in Vegas and the sun was up, the city open and anticipation high. We drove into NY / NY and valeted, my friend walked up to registration, name dropped the owner of the bar on Sunset we worked at and got us 2 comped rooms.
We were set. Well, we were sort of set, we needed something more, something Vegas, something big!
Something more than a hooker! Something more than a picture with Wayne Newton. We needed big. And we set out to find big that night.
They pulled the chairs together for us at The Crazy Horse 2 and big was getting started. The place was packed. I was anticipating telling the strippers that I was an extra in “Sex and The City” once, I was almost peeing my pants I was so damn excited.
My friend got up, came over to us and leaned down.
“We need big. We need to go big. I just made a call, Big is coming.”
When Big arrived, he was not very big, he was a small asian guy with a tight shirt and semi-mustache. He was young, he looked quiet and his head seemed to bob in rhythm to the music without his efforts, sort of like a puppet being controlled by BB King.
My friend palmed him money. He palmed him bills.
“The first bag has white pills, they are for fun. The second bag has green pills, they have nike symbols embroidered on them, they are for the next level. Use them wisely.”
I had never taken an ecstacy pill. I was also concerned because these pills came with instructions and I am pretty bad at finishing my amoxicillin doses per the doctor’s instructions.
“Relax bro, this is big. This is taking things to the next level. This is magic.”
My friend explained. He was a rather jovial, energized character always searching for the ultimate time.
“Cory, you hold the green ones, we will use them when we get back. I will hold the white ones and distribute them as needed.”
When x first hits you in a Vegas strip club, it feels like you are laying in soft pearls and strippers look like greek goddesses waving fluffy white feathers over you.
I fell in love. 42 times.
“Cory, are you ok? We ran out of money, we are going to Western Union, I hooked a guy up with a SAG card last week, he owes me a grand, don’t lose our table bro!”
“You got it man.”
It was Vegas, I was on a drug for the first time in my life, I needed to guard 4 chairs and I was surrounded by angelic strippers with feather fans.
When you are on X at a strip club, strippers are like fleas, they attach to you and quickly multiply into more strippers. The one that sat on my lap unbuttoned my shirt and rubbed lotion on my chest.
“I am from Hollywood, I just finished filming in LA with Sarah Jessica Parker on Sex in the City. I am the waiter behind her with a red bandana on. I have a drink tray.”
“Wow, you are cute. Do you like the way my hands feel on your chest?”
“Yes I do.”
“Did you meet Sarah? Have you been in a lot of films? What actors have you met? Do you think you will be a star?”
The question barrage was on. I was a highly acclaimed extra. She was starstruck. The section smelled like passion fruit.
The love was strong.
When my friends got back, they were surprised to find out that they needed to pay off 3 strippers pretty quickly or else our table would be going away.
When we got back to the hotel room, I promptly moved the green pills to my backpack. They were now reserved for a special date.
And that brings us to the situation at hand. A long flight out of Los Angeles International airport, a black lady with a wand eyeing me and a bag with illegal narcotics. This was a bad situation. I am not a drug smuggler and to be honest, I had some fun in my 20s, but nothing that warranted me that much different from other people.
I only had one real option in my head. I looked at the trash can and walked towards it. My palm sweated as I clinched the cellophane wrapper. The trash can was near.
“All B’s please begin your boarding process now.”
And then I swallowed them both. Fuck, I panicked. What the hell did I just do I thought?
I couldn’t help but think how stupid I was. I wanted to slap myself. I don't even do drugs really. I like going to bars and having drinks.
Of course, I am not searched (go figure) and migrate down the concourse. I am seated in the front of the plane right next to an elderly lady.
“Folks, thanks for flying American Airlines, we know you have choices when you fly. I do want to inform you that we are having a few mechanical difficulties. Looks like we will hang out here on the runway until we get a mechanical team freed up. We apologize.”
Well of course this would happen. I thought about hitting my seat buzzer and explaining the situation to the stewardess:
"Look, I accidentally carried a load of ecstacy in my back pack to the airport. I swallowed them because I got scared. I really need this plane to fly somewhere, I don't care where, just somewhere, even Canada Wyoming would be fine at this point. I have a movie career to think about."
But that didn't seem right when I went over it in my head. So I kept shut.
I began to sweat. I began to fidget. I didn’t know what magic would feel like, but I assumed this was not it.
It was then that an echo began to manifest along the rows of the plane. It would come euphonically down the aisle, bounce off the emergency exit door then abruptly bounce back. I tracked its path with my head. It grew, it sounded of a tunnel harnessing jet engines.
I began to sweat more. I reached down and grabbed the vomit bag and started fanning myself. I needed a water. My back began to crawl, my head soared, my legs elevated, my veins pulsated and orchestrated a presence with my heart.
Boom. The magic was happening at Gate B of Los Angeles International airport, in seat 11A OF AA FLIGHT 222 NEW ORLEANS BOUND.
“Are you ok kid?”
The elderly lady spoke.
“I think I am. I want you to see something. Will you look at something?”
“Yes son, show me.”
I showed her. She smiled but she didn’t ask me any questions.
I guess magic is sometimes what is not said.
Just how many fast food places have you worked in?
Oh man, I have always had to work. I have worked at both Taco Bell and McDonalds.
I also worked in all kinds of restaraunts including: Chiles, Olive Garden, Gladstones of Malibu (busiest restaurant west of the Miss.), a Mexican cantina…..
Talk about your job as a manager in an airline call center. Also talk about the collection officer job.
I had two notable jobs in College.
The first was a collections agent for Direct Loan Services. DLS is the provider of most student loans for colleges around the country. I was in the “soft accounts” department.
Soft accounts are basically people like a lot of us that just forget to mail in a bill here and there. The soft account reps, like myself, would call them from a pre-determined dialer and give them a friendly reminder. 90 percent of the people would say “oh, sorry, can I pay now over the phone?”
However, I was not good at the job. I apparently “chatted it up too much with the callers.” I love people. I love talking to people. All kinds of people. That is just me.
They put me on notice a couple times. I was soon called into the director’s office. I thought I would be fired.
He promoted me.
He sent me to “hard accounts.” I am assuming I don’t need to explain hard accounts, however, just know that some of these people were like a decade behind. They rarely answered the phone, you spend most of your time talking with roommates, old friends, family members, etc. The ambition of hard accounts was not really the financial collection itself, but moreover it was the acquisition of current information. The only chance you had at that was “chatting it up with strangers and befriending them.”
I didn’t do the job too long, but it was interesting.
The other job was at Vanguard Airlines reservations office. I am not sure if this airline is still in business, however our office was the office that you called when you needed to speak with an agent for booking a flight, changing a flight and what not.
I was the manager of the call center, evening shift. Our office calibrated the distribution of calls between our Lawrence Kansas center and one in Kansas City. I got free travel on the airline which was great for hitting Minneapolis or Dallas. I could almost always jump a flight.
Did working at a pharmacy help to create a drug habbit?
When I was 16, I got a job helping at the register of a drug store. Basically, I sold ornaments and 4 inch handheld globes that displayed a miniaturized old man smiling with his hands extended from his parka; if you shook it, it would snow on him.
If you shook it hard, the elderly people would say “wow!”
When I was around 17, one of the pharmacy technicians quit and they didn’t want to pay for a new one (they were penny pinching at the time). So I got asked to help out when they got busy. Basically, I would deal with the front of the RX counter. They liked me doing it because it primarily involved dealing with very enraged people, I tended to calm them down.
People needing drug refills have a tendency to get a little crazy.
Soon after, I ended up working the RX section as a tech. Basically, my job was to know every generic drug by name, locate it when a script called for it, and in most cases count and hand over to the pharmacist.
Makes you feel confident when you go inside a drug store! Haha
I don’t have a drug habbit, I am a much calmer guy now than I used to be. I don’t like doing things to my body anymore, however, in my younger days, I tried everything under the sun once or twice.
I am 30 now, honestly, I don’t think my body would fare well under extreme conditions. I lived to be young when I was young and I don’t regret it, but now things are a lot different.
Was it hard having everyone laugh at you when you were a comedian when they weren't laughing at your jokes?
When I was 20, I auditioned for a comedy troupe in downtown Kansas City. It was a live improv group that performed every Friday and Saturday night. The group study under the idealogy of Del Close’ Truth in Comedy.
The show was live and the audience was paying. It was down the street from a Stanford and Sons stand up comedy club. I recall Dave Chapelle there before he was famous. We got a lot of that crowd.
If you do not know what Improv is, think Saturday Night Live without a script, and there you have it. Most of SNL is recruited from Second City in either Chicago or Toronto. I saw Sheri Oteri when she was a nobody as well.
Our club was in the same family as the Chicago network. However, I wanted to do standup, Improv was not really what I enjoyed.
I was recommended for the club, I auditioned and was put on the main stage immediately. This is rare, most of the time you are put on the slow stage (basically, you perform on slower nights). In Chicago, Second City has multiple stages and shows, rarely does anyone start main stage.
The job was tough. One night, you had people wanting your autograph, the next people laughed AT you or booed. You have to have very thick skin.
Basically, the audience gives you a subject and you have to fly with it. For example, they would line me up with 2 others and then I would ask the audience for some type of plot.
The hard part for me was when they named shows like Friends. I didn't watch that much TV back then, so playing Joey was really tough. That is just one example though.
Just what the fuck is WEG cash? Where did the name come from?
Wegcash.com is an affiliate program that offers over 60 paysites. The paysites are set on paid trials, as well as our wildly popular Free Trials.
We are also very well known for Join4Free. People submit emails, we pay you out, pretty simple. We are among the last around with Free Trials. Weg innovated an industry program when it launched Join4Free.
Our payouts are as such:
4Free Classic (Deductions) pays between $1.15 and $1.50 per direct signup, and $0.90 to $1.30 per direct signup for console free tours.
4Free v.2 (No Deductions) pays $1.10 per direct signup and $0.80 per direct signup without consoles.
EZ Pass Free Trials pays $25 per free trial signup for console & console free tours.
EZ Pass Dollar Trials pays $30 to $35 per dollar trial signup, and $26 to $28 per dollar trial signup without consoles
EZ Pass Paid Trials with consoles pays $36 to $40 per paid trial signup, and $28 to $32 per paid trial signup without consoles.
EZ Products pays $40.00 per initial Magna RX sale.
EZ Cams pays $20 to $25 per free lifetime signup.
The name is short for Web Entertainment Group.
In my opinion, we have the best team in the Industry. Many of you know John, Ruth and Gabe, just to name a few. Our designers and programmers are levels beyond many teams out there. I am extremely fortunate to work for such a talented team. I am certainly privileged, as I am by far not the smartest person in our office. I get credit in many cases where credit is not due; I am just the fortunate one that gets to relay the message to you guys.
The real credit goes to Vu (our designer), Phil (our head of programming), John (Vice President), Gabe (sales), Ruth (marketing director), Juan (designer), Jeff (accounting), Lee and Adam (programming), Derek, Kym and the owners, Jason Zimmerman and Jordan Levinson just to name a few.
And of course, our webmasters: Nothing is possible without them.
In the next month, our updates to the program are going to be coming in groves. We are working on exclusive paysite deals (gay and straight), new J4F tours, and tightly integrating everything with new and exciting ways to promote the program.
This ambush has been a really great thing, I am very humbled that people are reading it.
What is a 'columnist war'?
I attended the University of Kansas. I briefly had a column in The Daily Kansan. I was hired to write about whatever came to mind.
KU is a liberal school, somewhat like Berkeley from what I understand.
After a few columns went up, one of the other columnist decided to use his spot to take shots at my columns. He felt they lacked substance. So I began to write columns that were intentionally lacking a point. Now, you may think that this is simple; it is quite complex to be honest.
I would find ways to make hardly any sense, while at the same time sliding the article by the editor in hopes that she would think, “maybe this is above me and I would look stupid asking him what it means.”
I was eventually asked to stop writing the column. I walked in one day to download my weekly column and they told me they had no more use for me.
What happened at Phoenix Forum with you and the police one year? Why were you arrested?
OK, now for the big question. A few people know this story and the way it ends in somewhat a happy, ironic manner. Some of you may read this and say, “I know him! I remember that!”
The important thing in this story to know is that I was wrong. I admitted such from the beginning. Any elements presented in the story are not excuses, they are factual. There is no excuse for what happened. However, two lessons could be learned: 1) Know your limits with alcohol. 2) Understand that when you do something wrong, apologize for it. Sometimes things can work out to your benefit; a sign of great character is taking ownership over your mistakes in life, not making excuses.
This story easily could have been all over the boards, however, people did not do that. I always appreciated it. Now that things are different and I am putting it out there, any of you that recall this feel free to jump in, or just post where I may be inaccurate, I do not remember everything clearly. Also, I anticipated this question being asked, I would not have agreed to Sleazy’s interview with the intention of dodging it.
Here we go, it is long. If you don't like long, I would exit this thread now:
About 2 weeks prior to The Phoenix Forum, I was wrongly diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. It was actually Asthma, something I assumed it was from the beginning, however in this day and age, doctors are looking to pass you off to pills as quickly as possible.
I was prescribed Paxil. Paxil is for anti-anxiety. I was very anti these types of medications, however, I wanted to breathe normal again. This is a medication that I have a very disturbing background with, I warn anyone who decides to go the route of these type of medications to carefully research the Internet. I wish I had done the same.
I landed in Phoenix with AVN Edison at 11am. We both formerly worked for Adult Check and were at the forum on behalf of them. Adult Check had started up a processing company called ACPay. They were too compete with CCBill and Paycom. The processing business is tough, most of our clients at the time were Adult Check webmasters that wanted to start up paysites. We were trying to nab larger clients. I didn’t have a clue how to go after larger paysite clients, to be honest, I just wasn’t industry experienced enough at the time. Brad Estes was the one that fueled the product’s development; he had just left his position for a position at Video Secrets.
When we went to shows as “Adult Check personnel,” we did so in our own AVS world. I knew who our webmasters were, we went out with our webmasters, I knew CA Dave and many others; however, I was not exposed to this side of the industry. I didn’t know who Sleazy Dream was, I didn’t hardly ever read GFY. My posts on GFY were few and far between.
Edison and I immediately went to the pool. This would be the start of a things that would haunt me for a very long time, but end very happily.
Around 1pm, we sat down at the pool with Brad and some of the other Video Secret’s guys. It was my first time to meet them. Shots began being distributed about like candy on Halloween. I immediately began partaking in festivities.
Somewhere around 3pm, I take a seat at a stool with Raven and a debate begins. I am sure at this point, it is fairly obvious that I am intoxicated.
The part that caught me off guard is that I had no idea that drinking on that medication was known to floor you. This is not an excuse, this is just a fact. I didn’t read on the medication. If you do some searches on the Internet regarding Paxil and drinking, two things will be noted:
1) You get intoxicated and you get intoxicated fast. It soaks in fast and you tend to walk around in a state of total obnoxiousness and in a state of total black out. You speak in fragmented, discontinous and absurd rhetoric. Most people will think you are out of your mind.
2) It increases the urge to drink. It propels it. You drink like a fish. When the normal person stops drinking due to the intoxication effect, you speed up.
Raven and I debate for roughly 30 minutes. I note this is likely the first point when I became somewhat discontinuous with my thoughts.
Around 7pm, Edison and I walk to the CC Bill opening party in the lobby of the La Posada. I vaguely recall a few people telling me I was too drunk. At this point, I am a total wreck.
At some point during the event, we run into Meloman. He is an AC webmaster at the time. He immediately notices how wrecked I am and grows very frustrated. At this point, he no longer likes me.
I am not sure how time relates any further than this.
I call Brad from the gathering. To this day, I remember making the call, but while on the phone, something happens and I never will remember it again. However, it will come back full circle a few years later. Brad asked me where I was. He told me later I was talking very strangely and making 0 sense. I was telling him that I was being chased around the party.
Now, Brad and I have had more than a few occasions drinking together, so him noting that I seemed different would prove important for me later.
What apparently occurred, and please keep in mind I am using other people’s information to piece this together, goes as follows:
While on the phone, I upset someone in the industry for being loud. He ask me to calm down, I get sarcastic with him. He reaquest that CC Bill ask me to leave the party, I run around a couch and do not want to leave. I eventually leave on my own accord.
Standing out front of the La Posada, a police officer happens to be in the neighborhood. He ask me to go back to my room, I start making my way. He notes that I seem to be on drugs and very unaware of my surroundings. He follows me.
He notes that I am not heading back to my room. He ask me if I would like to be arrested, I respond with “yes.” He notes that I am singing Public Enemy’s “By the time I get to Arizona” in the patrol car.
I am later told that JFK took pictures of this portion, hence, question 6 is moved here. (I am basing Sleazy’s 6th question on my own assumption that this is how it relates).
I am taken to the Scottsdale Police Department and booked on drunk and disorderly. I have 0 recollection of this. However, something that will save me later does happen. The officer will note that I am very nice to him and that I am very non-aggressive, he also will note that I seem off, but he drops suspicion of drugs.
I wake up in a holding cell. I am in only my shorts. I am freezing and my right hand has a number of abrasions, it is also soar. The room is made of metal; it houses a metal bed and a toilette that sits in the middle.
The officer tells me the next morning that I punched the cell wall several times. I ask him what happened. He told me I was very intoxicated and was book on disorderly conduct. I ask him if I hurt anyone, he told me that I didn’t and in fact, I was very cordial to him.
He asked me if this had ever happened before. He tells me he suspects this was more than just alcohol, as he felt something did not seem right.
I have no ride back to the hotel. I receive my shirt and shoes back, I also get my cell phone back, the battery is dead.
It is 6am.
I walk outside, it is sunny, it is beautiful. I vomit profusely for the first time. My head begins to hurt. I will vomit several times on the way home.
I have no ride home. I walk to the La Posada.
I suspect around 7am I enter the complex. I walk through it. At this point, I get afraid of what happened, I have no idea. I had never felt this way in my life. I am still pretty disoriented at why I woke up in jail. I have never been to jail before.
The La Posada is tranquil at this early morning hour. The pool glimmers like a gorgeous resort pool should The water is still, it poses for a vacation brochure. I vomit on the gate.
I gaze into the pool area, memories of my walk to the warm up party lash out at me.
“Dude, you are too drunk”
“What are you talking about?”
I get back to the room. Edison opens the door. He tells me that Brad and him attempted to bail me out, however, the officer said it would be best I stay, my condition was not good by his assessment.
I vomit again, this time several times over. I vomit with shear agony. It is the worst I have ever felt after drinking. I am in total dismay.
1pm. The first indications come in that something really bad happened. Our program assistant at the time tells Edison and I that Chris Mallick made remarks about my being unprofessional.
We go to the pool around 3pm, I am now able to move about. I meet Sweetums for the first time. I tell her what happened, I tell her I am pretty sure bad things happened and that I am ousted from the industry. She responds in a very consoling manner, something many people would not have done. This calms me.
Around 2pm, I am told that JFK has pictures. I knew JFK at the time pretty well, I put out feelers that I want to talk to him. I ask that if Edison sees him to tell him if this is true, to please take down the pictures.
I am now pretty damn aware that I made a very large mistake, however, I am still years away from knowing the ironic truth to it all.
Around 4pm, I am approached at the pool by several people that I have never met in my life. They indicate to me that they recognize me as getting arrested last night.
My concern increases. I begin to grow somewhat angry. I recall laughing about what happened to these guys. I would do this several times afterwards. I think I just didn’t know what to do or how to handle things. I didn’t even know who to apologize to?
Around 4:30pm, Carmelo approaches me. We walk to the side. He tells me he is very upset with me and that I was slapping him in the head in a joking, yet annoying manner. He informs me that the guy who had me thrown out of the CCBill event had something to do with Hustler. He tells me this person wanted me thown out of the show.
I apologize. I ask to be put in contact with this individual, I wanted to apologize. Carmelo walks away assuring me that he will let this person know. I will not be put into contact with this person until 2 years later.
Around 5pm I start assuming that my days in the industry are finished. I start to think it is a good thing. I make an average salary and sell pornography: These are not two things I ever wanted in life, I start to settle on this and begin thinking about how to exit the industry and never return.
I have a partner at the time in some personal business dealings. We basically run a tgp site and some other free sites. We do decent, I knew I could get by without working at Adult Check. I knew that I would have enough money to get back.
5:30pm. I call American Airlines. I ask them how many miles I have.
7pm. We go to a pool party. There is a dj. A representative of AVN informs me that I said some belligerent things to someone I was very good friends with. I find her and apologize, however it is obvious she does not want to talk to me, although she accepts the apology and smiles.
I go home early and go to bed. I am depressed as things begin to set in.
8am the next morning. I go to get breakfast. I am by myself. The breakfast establishment at the Phoenix Forum is packed. I ask to be seated at a corner table, I try to avoid being seen.
JFK walks in. He sits down and we have breakfast together. I tell him that I hear he was planning to post the pictures of my arrest. Fubarwebmasters was new at the time, I am guessing that havng pictures removed was not as prevelant as it is now. He agrees to remove them, however he tells me I shouldn’t do things at shows I don’t want posted.
I was a bit put off by this; I assume this is why question 6 was asked. However, it should be known, this was no drama and hardly worth being put as a dedicated question. I love JFK. I was just in a bad spot.
The Forum ends. I go home and I call my friend in Kansas City. He is an attorney; his dad a prominent Kansas judge. They put me in contact with a Phoenix Arizona attorney. He will do this for free as a favor for my friends.
The guy explains to me that they will want me to appear in court in one month. I never wanted to go back to Phoenix again. He works to have my appearance removed.
The Phoenix Attorney shows up to court for me. Based on the officer’s account of my being cordial, the judge agrees to not have me appear in court. Instead, he allows me to plea no contest. I am charged. I pay about $500.
In the coming months, I resign from Adult Check. I never fully recover from this PR nightmare. I was saddened to be honest; I always felt I could provide the best PR for a company, yet my name was so tarnished. I was afraid to go to shows; I always feared I would be asked to leave a party.
I call American Airlines. I cash in miles. I board a plan in October for South America. I totally disappear, I have no intention of returning to the industry; I ponder not returning to the US.
While hiking in the Andes Mountains in South America, something happens that will change my thoughts a bit on the past.
It was day 3, I am without any friends, just a group of Europeans. I develop some sort of terrible virus. I lose control of my bowels. I can’t keep anything down. A "shaman" is sent to my tent. I am flushed, I am weak, I am disoriented. He tells me I have some type of virus. He tells me there is only one way out, that is by being strapped to the back of a mule. It is a 3 day walk at the mercy of a mule. I tell him I refuse to go.
He administers me a shot.
The night continues, I am heard talking to myself. I am delirious, my fever rises. A Spanish traveler comes over and realizes my fever is way to high. I have peed and crapped all over myself. They lift me up, I go in a bush with a bucket of water, I clean off.
She asks me to remove my clothes. She takes ice water and dumps it on me. It felt terrible. I shivered and yelled with each douse of water. My tent is then labeled as quarantined, however she is a nurse and claims she is obligated to assist.
The fever breaks around 3am. I will hike the next morning to Machu Pichu. Because I was quarantined and because the water supply had vanished because of the amount I consumed the next morning, I am without fluids.
When I reach Machu Pichu, I purchase a red Gatorade. It is the best Gatorade I have ever had. I challenge myself to climb to the highest point, I reach it.
What I do not know is that while I was sick, I vomited up my dose of Paxil. What I also do not know, but will learn when I arrive back in Lima is that I lost my Paxil that same night (many items I took were thrown away for obvious reasons).
When I arrive back to Lima, strangeness sets in. I begin hearing voices at night. I begin getting sick again. I fall down without reason. Something is wrong, but I have no idea what it is.
I go downstairs of the hotel and log onto the Internet. I search for hours, I finally come across what is ailing me. I am in Paxil withdrawal. I will not go into details on that, if you search PAXIL WITHDRAWALS, you will find more than enough information on it. I become intrigued, it is then I am made aware of the alcohol and Paxil recipe. I grow much sicker, yet for some reason, everything in my life begins to clear up.
I am scheduled to fly out of Lima for Rio de Janeiro in 2 days. I cancel the flight for the time being. I pay off the hotel attendant guy downstairs to keep bottled waters coming to the room, as well as food. I will leave out the details, however the withdrawals were awful. Downright scarey. I wanted the Paxil out of me. I wanted to make a real change in my life; something for the better.
I return to Los Angeles a month later, I move to Orange County. I begin searching for new jobs in the mainstream. I get some interviews. Nothing works out, yet I am confident I will find something.
And I do. I find out that a company named Wegcash is hiring someone for PR and to head up Webmaster Support. I think I would be perfect for the job, however, I am very haunted by my past.
I get an Interview. I sit in the Wegcash Orange County office waiting for someone to come out. I grow hesitant.
“What if someone knows me as the guy that got arrested in Phoenix?”
“Do I really want to work in Porn?”
And then most importantly:
“Should I immediately come clean in the Interview and tell them about my tarnished past?”
I will choose to not bring it up. Jason Zimmerman, owner of Wegcash.com, interviews me. I am hired on the spot.
I start work 2 weeks later. Tonda and Gabe are there. I can’t help but wonder if they know. KK visits the office on day one, I can’t help but wonder if she told them.
I have no idea how close the Phoenix arrest / debacle is to me.
I begin trying to reestablish my self as everything I wanted to be: Professional, likeable, has fun but is intelligent. However, with every post I make, I get nervous that I will get called out. The first show hat I attend for Wegash: The Phoenix Forum.
I do well at the show. I hear people discuss the issue, however, they do not realize that I am the guy they are discussing.
I try to make my rounds to those that I know as Wegcash webmasters, however, I really only know usernames at this point. I am then introduced to one of those usernames. He is one of our more successful webmasters. ‘
His name is Meloman. We talk. He is extremely nice to me. He tells me that the incident is in the past and that he feels like I am the right person for the job.
At the end of the show, I see Chris Mallick. Before I left Adult Check, I had apologized to him about my Phoenix behavior but this was the first time I had seen him since. I approach him while he is sitting at a table. He opens his arms for me. He then tells me to cancel my flight for that afternoon. I go to dinner with him and a few others and he flies me back on the Paycom jet. He is a total class act.
I felt little worries about the incident anymore. But one stone had been left unturned. Who was the guy that had me thrown out of the party?
Miami Internext, 2005. It was the year of the infamous Belly Flop contest. Jason flies into town for one day. He plans a dinner with a Carmelo and a few others. Someone else comes to dinner. The guest tells Jason that he likes his new hire (me). Carmelo turns to everyone and says, “you do realize he is the one you had thrown out of the party at the Phoenix Forum?”
He responds saying he never had any idea who the guy was?
Well, the guy is Ken Lawson. Him and Jason are very good friends, our gateway processor is Jettis. On a professional level, Ken could be considered my boss (his influence with Weg is great).
I am told of the incident shortly thereafter by Gabe. At this point, I now realize who and how everything relates. I am told Ken is laying out at the top pool. I walk up the steps. I shake his hand. He ask me how I am doing.
“A lot better now. A lot better.”
And that was enough, some things are better left unsaid.
The circle was complete. I saw Ken recently in Vegas, we laughed about the fact that we wear the same shoes.
This year, Weg is a big Phoenix Forum sponsor. Next Wed, I fly out to meet about an event we are doing with Paycom. I will visit the CCBill offices for a meeting.
Things have changed. I am twice as succesful now as I was then.
You never know how anything will work out. I regret what happened to me in Phoenix, but I feel I learned a lot from it. My goal (externally) is to make Wegcash the most upstanding company around. My goal (internally) is to help grow the product.
Without Phoenix, I don’t think I would be where I am. I don’t think I would be this driven.
Advice: Never underestimate this industry. If you make a mistake, just apologize, most things can be worked out.
At our event in Phoenix this year, Ken’s name will be the first on the list.
And with this post, the circle is complete : )
I do appreciate those of you that knew about it, yet had the professionalism to not make it a PR nightmare. I have told many of you this in person, however, I now want to make it Public.
Meloman, Raven, Sweetums, JFK: thanks for everything you did.
When I have problems now, I work them out with myself. Sometimes, my gut instincts are better than any doctor's diagnosis.
What adult webmaster shows do you attend? Favorites? Least favorites?
I attend Vegas Internext, JBM Vegas, The Phoenix Forum and Miami Internext.
This year I intend to make it to:
Webmaster Access: Cancun, LA, Toronto, Amsterdam.
JBM Vegas and Cabo
The Costa Rica Bash
The Phoenix Forum.
Weg is making a large push this year, prepare to see us everywhere.
My favorites are JBM, Webmaster Access and Phoenix. Great locations on those shows.
I don't really have a least favorite.
How come you never made it as an actor?
Acting in Los Angeles is a very tough world. Honestly, I gave up and moved on earlier than I would have needed to in order to make it.
You have to risk your entire life to make it. What I mean is that you have to work at a job such as waiting tables and then hope you do not turn around and regret it later in life.
I always felt a lot more passionately towards writing than acting, so I never felt I gave up much.
Talk about the Saddle Ranch.
The Saddle Ranch is a bar located on Sunset Blvd. Some of you that attended Webmaster Access LA likely went to the new location in North Hollywood, same idea. When it first opened on the strip, people thought it was too risky of a theme and that it would fail.
Nothing could have been further from the truth.
After about one month’s time, it went from dead to having people lined up down the strip to get in. It was a themed bar set up country and western style, famous for its mechanical bull.
I began work there about 2 months into its opening. It was one rough, fun and interesting ride to say the least. I met a few celebrities and got access to a lot vip Hollywood events. The money was pretty damn good.
Ironically, Larry Flynt’s family (minus Larry himself) came in often, usually on Fridays early afternoon. They all worked for the magazine and store in some executive fashion or another. One of the top guys for Hustler would always come in with them, I believe his name was maybe Jim? Nevertheless, it was funny running into him at my first show. He gave me passes to one of the first parties I ever attended in this Industry. Very small world to say the least.
Celebrities included: Kid Rock, Shannon Dougherty, Vince Vaughn, Heather Kozar, Lean Ryhmes, and a host of others. It was great, we would basically show up and party with celebrities.
I would not do it again, I really don’t think my body would handle it, but it was fun while it lasted.
How was Shannon Dougherty in bed?
I was making coffee at saddle ranch one night. Making coffee is the absolute worst job as a waiter; I always tried to avoid it. The hostess approached me and told me a “very important table is down and I needed to get there right away.”
“I’m making fucking coffee right now, I will get there when I get there.”
She walked away very unhappy. When I finally approached the table, Shannon Dougherty was seated wearing a dark sweatshirt. Her hair pulled back behind her ears, head angled down, eyes veered up towards me. She was with her brother and a couple that appeared to be in their mid-50s.
The couple was very intoxicated and persistent in ordering jack and cokes. Shannon and her brother seemed a bit uncomfortable. Shannon, as most know, has a terrible reputation when it comes to dealing with her; however, she seemed quiet and relatively tranquil.
I bring the lady a coffee spontaneously, I figured I took the time to make it, I might as well serve it. Shannon smiles and waves me over. She ask me to lean down.
“Thanks man, those two are hammered, my brother and I are trying to buy a couple of horses from them, but when we took them to dinner, they got too drunk, now we are stuck with them. I just want them gone at this point. Can you do me a favor? Can you please cut her off?”
“Jack and cokes have been without jack for the past hour.”
She laughed and remarked that I was on things. She then asked if I had smokes, I said yes, we went for a smoke. As soon as we hit the patio, someone called her Brenda.
“That is a tv show. That isn’t my real name. I am not talking to you anymore.”
We had conversation and then headed back inside. I worked the old couple until they were ready to leave. Shannon and her brother stay, they want to drink. Shannon calls the GM of the restaurant over. She request two things:
1) A bottle of Patron Silver.
2) For them to let me off my shift so I could drink it with her.
Both request are met, this would be the last time I would think of Patron and not swallow my own vomit.
The shots began flowing, and the bets began being laid down. Would a guy from our place sleep with a celebrity? You see, a lot of our female staff was known to date celebrities, we always had paparazzi around; but none of the guys really had any thing like that happen.
Things were going well, we danced, we laughed, and I fantasized about getting her and Alyssa Milano in a Suite at The Mondrian Hotel while wearing only a cowboy hat, boots and smoking a cigarette later that night:
“You touch it”
“No, you go first, then me”
“Ladies, you can both touch it at the same time. You wanna be with this bad boy professional extra? Then come on over ladies!”
Ok, sorry, tangent.
In the end, the Patron got the best of us all. She offered to drop me off at home, however, I only lived a block away. So it was no dice.
I was a bit eccentric, I rode one of those scooters to work. The ones you propel with your foot and have wheels the size of nickels. People used to laugh at me, but I loved that scooter. While riding home on Sunset, it hit a rock and got jammed, throwing me off. I tried to pull the rock out while sitting on the sidewalk when an SUV drove by and some guy screamed “loser” and threw an empty can at me.
Man, this town is tough. One minute you are a renowned extra parading the town with a starlet, the next minute your scooter’s front wheel is broken and you are in the outs.
If you are ever in Saddle Ranch (either Sunset or North Hollywood), ask for Matt the GM. Tell him you know me.
Just how far will you go to make a client happy?
This is a pretty tough question to be honest. I know that I have a reputation for doing quite a bit and depending on who you talked to, 'quite a bit' can be interpreted in many different ways.
I keep my marketing on the down low, but I am much more aggressive than many people know. WiredGuy, Wielco and a few others have been around for some of my more creative nights
I will probably have to cut this question a bit short haha
What kind of car(s) do you own? pics
Toyota Tundra. Here is a picture last month. I stopped off in the Mojave to urinate in my favorite dune and got stuck in the sand. Took about 45 minutes to dig it out with my hands.
Do you own or rent your home(s)? pics
Moving into a rental in Huntington Beach next week. Housing prices are insane out here. I put bids down on a few places in Vegas last year (got outbid). If prices do not drop within the year, I will look to buy a rental property outside of California again
Who do you look up to in the online adult industry? Down on?
There are the obvious ones such as the guys I work for (Jason and Jordan), there is Lars, there is DH / Sarah and Brad and Claire Gosse.
Also, there are those that just do an amazing job day in and day out I would like to mention.
In design, The Dickmans have to lead the pack. Everything from there initial customer contact to what they deliver puts them leaps and bounds ahead of the competition. I have had a lot of work done from them, I highly recommend others do as well.
Jupiter Hosting and Cave Creek in the hosting department. Both offer supreme webmasters service, both are ran by great minds, both have incredible personnel.
As an overall admirable company? CCBill. Hands down they have to have the best employees and organization around. All companies should strive to be them.
Looking down on people waste time. I try not to do it.
Why do you come to GFY?
For the free porno. Well, and because I love you guys so damn dearly it hurts. And for the free porno.
Talk about your mental disability - a form of Tourette's Syndrome known as Vocal Tics.
I have Vocal Tics, a form of tourettes, as you stated in the question. Some of you that have been around me may have noticed it. It appears much like a stutter, however that is not what it is.
Basically, it is a central nervous disorder that causes you to make noises using your tongue, throat and chest muscles. Some people will grunt. I mostly tic my tongue inside my mouth. Sometimes is sounds of a humming propeller like noise. If I a drink a lot of caffeine or some alcohol, it will become more pronounced.
I don’t worry with it now, however I do commonly have sore spots on my tongue’s tip. When I was young, it was tough. I had to go see central nervous order doctors. They would hook wires up to my head and leave the room. Then the nurse would come back and say,
“Was that a noise?”
I would say
The games played. I was embarrassed about it as a youth. I am agreat speaker, you will never notice it if I am saying something important or public speaking, you only notice it when I am super casual. Par for the course for the ailment.
Is it true only idiots can't do simple math? Is that why you failed college? 30. How many educators did your mom have to sleep with to get you into the normal classes in elementry school?
These two are one in the same.
I was always of the side of the brain that was good with English. I am analytical, you would hate seeing a movie with me. I love words. I love to write. I enjoy reading other’s thoughts, including on GFY. My post are generally long, it is an art to me.
However I can’t do simple math. Truth be told, this in combination with my vocal tics caused me to be declared as a “slow learner” in elementary school. My mother had to switch my schools and lie on my transfer documents to get me out of disability courses.
The slow learner courses in the state of Louisiana isolated students. We had separate lunches, separate breaks, we had a room far from the others. I was a fifth grader that played with building blocks on a daily basis. This was a time in my life when I developed a disdain for the system. I became one to challenge authority. I loved every kid in those classes, I made the absolute best of our lunches. Many of the kids had severe disabilities: They slobbered on themselves, they walked polar crooked fashions, they limped, some chanted, they cursed aloud, they cried. At the end of the day, I am still one of them. That will never change. It is too date the driving reason that I can go work at the lowest of levels for little income if I have to and move up. The bottom does not bother me, it is where greatness is fostered.
I struggled for the rest of my life with simple math. I would never recover. I could not pass the lowest level math class at either the Junior college I enrolled at (methodically for the math credit), nor at the University of Kansas.
I don’t operate on excuses, just facts. Anything is possible, however I did not accomplish passing the courses. I would attend upper level English courses and then walk over to a class composed mainly of freshmen in a math course.
I eventually left for LA to pursue acting, however, my greatest ambition is to write a novel.
How many educators did your mom have to sleep with to get you into the normal classes in elementry school?
What places have you lived in?
Louisiana, Oklahoma, Kansas, Los Angeles California.
Discuss your near death experiences.
Back in 1999, I decided to go out and surf a rather large swell. I have some daredevil blood in me, however, I soon learned that life is very fragile.
I ended up going down in a nasty wave, it was vicious, unforgiving and most of all, humbling. The wave was about 12 foot in size, I badly misjudged it. I was tubbled a long time.
From the beach, the waves were thing of beauty. The problem with gorgeous waves is that sometimes they look like moist, soft pillows and you want to be inside of them; sometimes it is heavenly, and sometimes you get herpes.
My props go out to those guys like Poppy, Mike Hawk and Lars that always seem to get the former. It is a tough sport.
Did your Dad want you to learn how to fight because he thought you'd get beat up a lot for being gay?
My friends from Saddle Ranch and myself decided to go to Mardi Gra. However, we were room less. But working at Saddle Ranch seemed to open up a lot of doors, and one big door opened. My friend always waited on these very flamboyant gay guys. They came in weekly. They were great, totally fun and loved to party. Saddle Ranch was primarily a straight bar, but they loved to sit on the patio and make fun of straight people, so it worked.
The leader of the group will be referred to as club flamboyance from this point on. He was loaded. He had a ton of money. They tipped well, he had nice cars, he lived for the lavish. A month before we leave for Mardi Gra, he tells my friend that he has 2 rooms reserved yearly at the Bourbon Orleans, the rooms both overlooked Bourbon street. If you don’t know anything about Mardi Gra (sadly past tense), then you should know that beyond the cost of the rooms is the dismal availability. Our plan was to find people to crash with and suddenly, a room with a view was opening up for us.
When I say view, I mean you can see nude girls.
Of course, everything comes with a price. I saved this one for last, I did so for a reason.
In order to get the room, my friend and I would have to go to club flamboyance’s room and allow him to take a Polaroid of our penises. He would take this picture and hang it on “the wall of cocks” that is located inside of his Bourbon Orleans suite. Nothing else would be needed, just a Polaroid, and then the room keys are handed over and we can use it as we wish. Our faces would not be in the picture. Our pictures would be among thousands of previous room attendants as well as past drunken Mardi Gra revelers.
We agree. In fact, I pinky swore the dude. I then got on the wire with my old college buddies and told them Mardi Gra was on. I was weary, no doubt, but I was also excited. A room on Bourbon with a view? I quickly envisioned rotating random ass after random ass in the room. It was going to be a sex fest. Girls would be crawling around the room.
In anticipation of the event, I decide this year for Mardi Gra I am going hardcore. I go to a few shops on Melrose, after I leave, I am the new owner of a boa, some fancy glitter and some crazy wild shirts.
When we arrived at Mardi Gra, we trudged through the crowd, I drug along my 2 luggages. Cabs are unable to drop you off at Bourbon street hotels as Bourbon is closed due to massive chaos. And now we were a part of the chaos.
“Here kids, put on these wrist bands. I just paid off homeboy, he is the bellman, we get as many wrist bands as we need, if you catch my drift!”
Jason was tanked. But I love that guy. He would take a bullet for you.
We entered the hotel. I was excited, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but think about my cock. What if Club Flamboyance laughs at it? Can I choose where they put the picture? I know this sounds ridiculous, but I don’t want a picture of my dick next to some other big black dudes.
We entered the room.
“We gotta go to Club Flamboyance’s room yo.”
My friend exalted. I looked at my friends from Kansas. I told them to stay, Matt and I would take care of this. I felt heroic. I felt like a martyr without dynamite packs. We wrapped our way up the old French winding stairwell, we didn’t talk. Occasionally, I would grab my penis and see if I thought it was bigger, but I had nothing relative to judge from.
Once we reached the top, we saw the room. We knocked. “Boys, you two look super! How were your flights?”
Club Flamboyance was fucking queened out. We entered the room, I noticed a couple of things right from the start. First, although there were a lot gay dudes with martinis, there were even more hot girls. Some of them were 10s, and they were all looking at us in anticipation of the dick photo session.
I also noticed the “wall of cocks.” It was impressive; there were literally thousands of cock pictures. I walked over to it. I looked at it; I wanted to find a spot where mine would be ok.
“You ready big boy?”
The flash went off. As I was pulling up my pants and as the noisy white flash tones simmered down, I saw a vision. She was brunette. She was heavenly. As I zipped up my penis and as the gay guys slowed the “oohing,” I knew that I wanted to sleep with her.
My cock was pinned to a wall at approximately 10:30pm Central time in a suite in the Bourbon Orleans. It was time to party.
By the time Tuesday came around, I felt like hell, Mardi Gra beats you down. It wears on you. It taunts you when you are tired. It tricks you when you are energetic. It constantly offers you sinful things.
But it was Tuesday. It was Fat Tuesday, I went into makeup.
When I came out, a lavish pink boa hung from my neck, glitter sprayed my chest and eyes. I was a fucking walking testament to the biggest party in the world.
Just before the clock strikes midnight in New Orleans every Fat Tuesday, the city clears the streets. If you have ever witnessed this, then you know what a wicked scene prevails as drunken revelers scramble inside of bars to dodge lines of horses and police officers. You know the smell. You know the contrasting rhytmic sounds of garbage when it is shoved aggressively into the street’s shoulder sewers.
I was a god. I was atop the balcony from Club Flamboyance’s room. I was alone on the balcony with my arm around the brunet. And tonight, she would be mine.
“Are you gay?”
She said as neon green top hats caught air and floated about the street as they detached themselves from those running for cover in the Tropical Isle bar.
“No, not at all. I only let them take the picture because we really wanted the room. I only came back tonight because I had hoped we would talk. I noticed you from the beginning when I was pulling my pants up.”
“Show me your cock.”
I began to pull my pants down. I was about to get blown on a Mardi Gra balcony as Fat Tuesday happened right before my eyes. I looked up to the sky, I thanked someone, I am not sure who though. I mean honestly, who do you thank when you are about to be so damn dirty.
“No man, on the wall. Show me which picture is yours.”
We were obviously on different pages at this point, however it was a small setback. I had a new issue, I had no idea where they hung my picture.
When we approached the wall of cocks, I was overwhelmed. There cocks everywhere, some black cocks, some white cocks, some were even purple. It was totally confusing. I saw piercings. I saw foreskin. I was totally freaked out. But I wanted this brunets ass, and if going through a wall full of cocks was the way to heaven, I was ready to open the door and bring on the disco balls.
“I think that is it.”
“Dude, are you just saying that because it is big?”
The pressure of a 1000 cocks began to mount.
“Are you embarrassed about your cock size?”
She said smiling. I turned red.
“Look, that is my cock. I am not embarrassed over my cock size. I have no issues showing my cock.”
We looked at each other. We kissed against a backdrop of random cocks and balls. And then we walked down the winding staircase. We were back on Bourbon and we met up with my friends who were in line at a bar.
“Hey, this is Lacey, she is going to party with us tonight.”
My friend shook her hand, he then went over to get us in the bar. He pulled out cash, he smothered it in his hands. But I had to go to the bathroom and Bourbon was building up in people again as they made exodus from the alleyways. So I ditched out for a second and decided to urinate. I reached down and began unzipping my pants, in the midst of my action; I took a massive shot to the head.
When you are getting your ass kicked on the side of a street, you typically grow curious as to who is kicking your ass and why. Generally however, these answers are unclear for a few moments.
The dust cleared. I was helped up and I was fired up. I caught a glimpse of the guy running into the bar. I ran to the door and the bouncers blocked my entry. He was inside staring back at me.
“You did this?”
The perpetrator was about 5 inches shorter than me. He was small, he was skinny and by my calculations, he would be mercilessly beaten within the next few minutes.
The bouncers protected him and it became clear that the perpetrator was a bouncer himself. He beat me down because I was urinating (along with countless others) on the side wall of the bar. The bouncers apologized to me and told me he was out of line. I still wanted to fight though, something I never do, and my wish would be granted shortly.
My friends approached. Lacey was now at my side, I wanted to have sex with her later, I was hoping this would not discourage intercourse. It was then that one of the most random things ever happened. A girl walked up. She approached working her way through the staring crowd. She was a large girl. She flaunted her broad shoulders. She abused those beside her by hovering. She had a pizza stain on her t-shirt. She had a lot of fucking beads.
She said in bold, confident fashion.
The guy inside pointed at me.
“I fucked that guy up baby.”
She was his girlfriend. I looked at her. She looked at me. She punched the holy hell out of me. The punch landed and was absorbed on the side of my head. I wabbled, I swayed back, and then I collapsed into the side sewer of Bourbon Street.
I was in a world of shit. Literally, I was buried down in tons of horseshit, beads, used cups, tar, mud, Chinese food. It is dark at the bottom of a pile of shit, however glimmers of light seeped in from flashes on cameras. When the pile was clearing, the backlights from street lights and people photographing me was blinding. When the pile was clear, a hand reached down to pick me up. At the same time, a hurricane (cocktail known in New Orleans) was extended down. I grabbed the hand, I also grabbed the Hurricane.
“Dude, you just made my whole trip! Fuck man, it is total chaos! You can have my drink, I just bought it! Are you ok?”
Random guy said.
“I am ok. I want to leave though, thank you for the drink.”
I felt done. I didn’t know how much more I could endure. It took two guys to lift me out of the sewage as I was unable to get any balance on the garbage stacks.
“Cory, man, buddy, fucking Christ are you ok?”
My friend from college said.
“I called the Saddle Ranch guys, they are on the way.”
“I am fine I think. Where is Lacey.”
“Dude, I am pretty sure she left, this place was a madhouse when the big bitch knocked you out.”
My friend explained.
The onlookers cheered when I fully regained my balance. Among those still spinning yarns over what they just saw, I heard this:
“Nigga, some fag just got fucking beat the fuck down! That queer musta got lost on the wrong side of Bourbon!”
I reached down, I pulled my boa into a straight position. I wiped glitter from under my eyes, I wiped the mascara.
“Dude, you wanna call it a night?”
My friend asked in the most consoling of inflections. This was a bad scene.
“No man, I want to go out. I want to go wherever this street will take us. I want to keep this party going. I lost my pride, I am probably a headliner on Internet sites, I have bruised ribs and a bruised cranium and I am obviously not getting laid, I have horseshit on me; But I will not go down that easy. Lets go.”
And we walked along Bourbon, we laughed. Somewhere in the bayou, it is likely that a Polaroid picture of my penis is pinned to some random detached wall drying out in a desolate field.
I am ok with that.
God bless New Orleans, she is the greatest city in the world, I hope she rebuilds, I hope that lives rebuild and I hope that those suffering see a better day sometime soon. The world is less of a place without her. I know that with our help, she will return, as will I.
That’s a wrap. I appreciate everyone who read any part of this interview. It is an absolute honor to be among those interviewed and among those that will be interviewed. I am flattered at the highest level that anyone would read it. You are all a great group of people and I am proud to be a part of this industry. Sleazy and LuLu, a special thanks to you for bringing this opportunity to the board. It is fundamental to know those you do business with, you have provided that in it’s most raw, most desirable fashion.
Thanks for thinking of me and of Wegcash. I hope I was able to entertain a bit. If I am ever called upon, I am always here, as is our entire company.
Mardi Gra, New Orleans, 2000.
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