Everything is wrong with me
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
 
I *Heart* Jenna: An Ode to a Porn Star
Yesterday, something so incredible happened, so amazing and life-changing, that I had to wait a day to digest it before I could fully discuss it.

My roommate Brian works for an entertainment news program. Yesterday, Jenna Jameson came to his office.

For those you who don't know who Jenna Jameson is (Puritans, the Amish, the deceased, foreigners, those without genitalia), she is only THE biggest porn star in the world. She has a special place in the hearts of guys my age, since she dominated (and still to a degree dominates) the industry from about 1994 on - the prime years of self-discovery, and by that I mean, "masturbating."

Brian knew a day in advance that the next day she was going to be in his office. See, Jenna's gotten tired of blowing dudes and getting creamed on, so she's expanding her empire. She made her mainstream movie debut in Howard Stern's "Private Parts", and now a television show is in the works, and she has a book out, How to Make Love Like A Porn Star: A Cautionary Tale, which is not a how-to, but rather an autobiography. If you watch VH1, you may have noticed a new one-off show called, "Jenna Jameson's Confessions." The commercial for it is classic, as Jenna says something like, "Even though I had a Lamborghini, I didn't have it all."

Deep, Jenna. Deep.

So anyway, when Brian told my roommate Ben and I that Jenna Jameson was going to be in his presence, we were dumbfounded. The biggest question was, "Are you going to meet her?"

Me: "Dude, if you have the chance, you have to meet her."
Brian: "I know."
Me: "But when you touch that hand, just think of how many dicks it's been on."
Ben: "And how much semen it's been around."
Brian: "Ok - gross."

The conversation was ended with a promise that Brian would be calling us throughout the day with updates. I'm not entirely positive, but I think I can pretty safely assume that prior to going to bed that night, Brian masturbated. I know I certainly did. And again in the shower the next day, but I failed (see yesterday's post).

The next day, my inbox was littered with emails from Brian that said things like "Oh...my...god" or "I'm in shock". Finally, he called me.

Brian: "What's up?"
Me: "Why are you calling me from your cell phone, and not your work phone?"
Brian: "Because I had to get out of the office - I just couldn't take it."
Me: "Is she hot?"
Brian: "Unbelievable. Unbelievable. I'm sorry, I can't even speak right now."
Me: "Well what's going on? Did you meet her?"
Brian: "I don't know...I feel really weird. I mean, she and I have shared a lot of special moments together, and I don't know what to feel."

Part of me wanted to yell at him and say, "You pussy - what's your problem? Get in there and talk to her! It's Jenna Fucking Jameson! And get me an autograph!"

But part of me understood completely. It's very hard to explain the impression a porn star can have on an pubescent boy. Because she serves as the boy's first glimpse of sexuality, a sexuality so base and powerful, a weird attachment can develop. Something like love, lust, loyalty, confusion, and happiness. It's actually quite beautiful, but very difficult to explain to those who haven't experienced it.

The porn starlet is a rare breed, a mix of both venerable and venereal, offering comfort in times of crisis, security in times of uncertainty, and unconditional sexual release in times of the longest droughts. No matter how overweight you are, or how much acne you have, or how much your back hair has grown in because your razor-ruler apparatus has broken and you haven't shaved it in ages, you can bet that Jenna Jameson is going to have sex on film for you, and let you play with yourself as she gets double-teamed in a garage by two dudes with forearm-sized penises and bad tattoos. One night stands will happen, girlfriends will come and go, you'll fall madly and blindly in love and be rocked out of it with equal vigor, but Jenna will always be there for you, giant fake boobs exposed, smile on her face, penis in her mouth, just as she's always been from the start.

Brian couldn't muster the chutzpah to meet her, but he did wave as she left and said "Thanks." I asked if he was able to get closer, and he wrote: "No - she had a guy with a massive and awesome body there protecting her, who wasn't bad himself."

But something has changed in Brian, as well as in me. We learned an important life lesson, though I'm not sure what the lesson is. I wish I could offer a moral to our story, but instead I'm left sitting here, a little weirded out, a little aroused, not sure if I want to masturbate, get married, or cry, working my way through sub-par pile of creamed spinach.

And, oh yeah, I bought the book. I'm thinking it's going to be pretty difficult to get through my current book about Mary, Queen of Scots, before getting into the Jenna one. I'll let you know how it is, if I can get through it in a reasonable amount of time, without having to stop reading after every paragraph to rub one out.



<< Home

Powered by Blogger