Homegrown Video takes it in the rear from Stephanie Swift
Naturally, the fact that Stephanie Swift wasn’t returning our calls because she was too busy doing gang bangs in Los Angeles with big name porn stars like Ron Jeremy kind of hurt my feelings. This was just the sort of thing that might lead me to become a calloused, crotchety, disgruntled porn king pin and for that I suppose I should’ve been grateful. Maybe once I turned cold and mercenary enough by moments like these then I could really get down to the nasty of doing these XXX nasty amateur sex videos and put the dirt back into dirty sex movies. Maybe I should’ve been thanking Stephanie for snubbing us so she could get her sweet defiled asshole up to Los Angeles where she could truly become the porn queen that seemed her destiny to fulfill and her rightful place in the universe.
Besides, why should I hold that against her at all? Wasn’t it her right as a model to go make top dollar licking Ron Jeremy’s asshole? I hope she made extra hazard pay. I hope the producer paid for her tongue transplant. I hope she made such a great impression on the whole LA porn scene that she would forever be the top anal gang bang butthole licking super slut in the entire history of porn. She sure wouldn’t be the first girl to deny her roots of working in amateur porn making a Homegrown Video scene. That was typical, par for the course. The models never realize that a huge contingent of porn fans only cares about those amateur scenes where the model is not jaded and over-choreographed and where they might as well be telephoning in the moans and groans of yet another faked orgasm.
Unfortunately, too many porn models begin to resent the fans that made them so popular in the first place. The girls come to hate the slobbering affections of those horny minions which is unfortunate because those are the people putting in the money to make the whole machine gone kiss, kiss, bang, bang and sputter along with a tank of spunk and spit.
The business. Can’t forget about the business.
Stephanie Swift was NOT going to sign at our booth at the trade show in Las Vegas, so be it. Business is business and she went her way and we would have to go ours, that’s just business. That might have been the least of our problems if my graffiti artist with the noxious inhalant chemically fried brain didn’t finish the painting of our booth. What the hell was taking him so long? We were down to the wire and the last time I had gone to the studio to check on progress I saw essentially a few pieces of plywood and some paint splattered tarps and a few milk crates full of spray paint. We might be able to take that to a spray paint show and stitch up something that would inspire a few aspiring Pollocks working in spray paint but for the biggest adult trade show of the year we would be laughed out onto Vegas boulevard so that we could join the rest of the losers that gambled and lost.
The more I had tried to not sound pissed and impatient, the more I was snapping at the seams of what was left of my tolerance for the situation. His laconic responses of “don’t worry, man, it’s going to be fine” were starting to make me insane. I was afraid to even step in his studio since I would start to hallucinate just standing in the fumes of the workspace. When I was there I worried about anyone lighting a match and blowing us all up in a fiery ball. I was preparing my last reasonable speech about the deadline for the work when I walked through the roll up door. The artist Steve greeted me. “I have something I want to show you.”
I was ecstatic and I don’t think that was due to riding the dragon of those paint fumes. I walked over to see the work in progress. He pulled away the canvas and…
Tags: homegrown video, stephanie swift