Well, the unfortunate truth is that I won’t even have to worry about making the cut because I don’t even merit walking the red carpet. Apparently, those who were intended to walk the carpet and get interviewed by Showtime were accorded a special badge and though I might be a Hall of Famer I guess I am not worthy of any time with the camera and the microphone. That’s it. I am getting a boob job. Why else would they possibly rebuff me and put the kibosh on my saying anything important, idiotic, patriotic, or mundane? Haven’t I paid some good dues? I was one of the last of a nearly extinct form of male porn dude – the generation of studs that had to service their co-stars free of Viagra, Cialis, or any other form of penis enhancing drug. Didn’t I fight for the industry to prevent it from being unfairly taxed and make a great impression on the California legislatures when I talked about our Mom lending us her life savings to buy the company. What about initiating the Defense Group which took on a $100 million dollar firm of attorney patent pirates and gave them such a lashing that the industry has been virtually untouched by similar rogues ever since.

I guess none of that matters without a great set of tits properly placed by a pre-eminent Beverly Hills plastic surgeon. I suppose I should take great consolation in the fact that supposedly I will be receiving a plaque of some sort which I will be able to proudly display on a wall in an office that precious few will ever be able to see. There is not a porn hall of fame museum in some place like Canoga Park or any place like that where fans can come and steep themselves in all the great porn memorabilia of days gone by. Wait, that is a great idea!