Daily Planet
The boys all got back all right, sunburned and exhausted after watching Damon Dogg’s jaw get damn near broken as he tried to stuff his face with all the cock that Arizona has to offer. Everyone showed up on about the same day on the ass-end of last week…
…and suddenly we’re slammed. We’re having a clearance sale; there’s an onslaught of new models to interview, tag, and release back into the wild; I have a Jesus-kabillion ads to design and disseminate; Plantin’ Seed 2 comes out any second now; Paul wants us to have some high-tech porn, and Reuben’s knee deep in a copy of Highly Technical Porn for Dummies- so basically, the world feels back to normal. No more of the quiet. It was starting to kill me. I can’t get anything done unless it feels like the walls are burning down around me.
Then this weekend I start feeling like shit, and end up working from home for the last two days. Which is fine, I guess, except that all my everything is here, and when I make business calls from my cell phone, the other side’s caller ID makes my having a porn name moot. Fortunately I was able to come in today, and resume my secret identity.
Having an alter ego is one of my favorite things about being in the porn industry. It’s neat. I assume a totally different attitude towards other people when I know they’ll never really know who I am. On the first day of the job they told me I was going to need to choose a porn name, and I panicked. It was like being told to say something funny, or more accurately, like being told to pick a nickname for yourself. It was uncomfortable, and it felt fake. I mean, you can go with the industry standard- a euphemism for an impressively large, impressively firm penis, but naming myself Dick Hardlong when I’m basically just working in an office seemed kind of insecure. So I came up with what I have.
Since then, I’ve had occasion to wish I’d waited. I wish I’d chosen Penis McPenispenis, or, most recently, Willy Wanker (thanks, Nick). But it’s irreversible. I’d have to email everyone I’m in contact with and tell them I changed my name. What an awkward letter that would be:
Hello,
I’m just emailing you to let you know that I am no longer Saul Austin. Saul Austin is dead, and all emails to saul@treasureislandmedia will be ignored until you get my name right.
Best wishes,
Dick Hardlong
Although I suppose that P. Diddy’s marketing team had to deal with something simiar, only on a much grander scale.
…and suddenly we’re slammed. We’re having a clearance sale; there’s an onslaught of new models to interview, tag, and release back into the wild; I have a Jesus-kabillion ads to design and disseminate; Plantin’ Seed 2 comes out any second now; Paul wants us to have some high-tech porn, and Reuben’s knee deep in a copy of Highly Technical Porn for Dummies- so basically, the world feels back to normal. No more of the quiet. It was starting to kill me. I can’t get anything done unless it feels like the walls are burning down around me.
Then this weekend I start feeling like shit, and end up working from home for the last two days. Which is fine, I guess, except that all my everything is here, and when I make business calls from my cell phone, the other side’s caller ID makes my having a porn name moot. Fortunately I was able to come in today, and resume my secret identity.
Having an alter ego is one of my favorite things about being in the porn industry. It’s neat. I assume a totally different attitude towards other people when I know they’ll never really know who I am. On the first day of the job they told me I was going to need to choose a porn name, and I panicked. It was like being told to say something funny, or more accurately, like being told to pick a nickname for yourself. It was uncomfortable, and it felt fake. I mean, you can go with the industry standard- a euphemism for an impressively large, impressively firm penis, but naming myself Dick Hardlong when I’m basically just working in an office seemed kind of insecure. So I came up with what I have.
Since then, I’ve had occasion to wish I’d waited. I wish I’d chosen Penis McPenispenis, or, most recently, Willy Wanker (thanks, Nick). But it’s irreversible. I’d have to email everyone I’m in contact with and tell them I changed my name. What an awkward letter that would be:
Hello,
I’m just emailing you to let you know that I am no longer Saul Austin. Saul Austin is dead, and all emails to saul@treasureislandmedia will be ignored until you get my name right.
Best wishes,
Dick Hardlong
Although I suppose that P. Diddy’s marketing team had to deal with something simiar, only on a much grander scale.
posted by Jack Jablonsky at 4:07 PM
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