189 posts categorized "STARRY-EYED"
When I worked in porn (don't get excited, it was for magazines and I wasn't in them), part of my job was to make up model copy so the utterly dull models would sound like they were fascinating. Or at least, so the utterly sexy models would sound sexy in a way that translated to print. So I did a lot of stories about guys who bragged that they were secretly total homos no matter what they told their girlfriends, which of course the real-life models absolutely loved reading. #deaththreats
Rarely, I would do real interviews on the phone with guys. One of them must have been with Eric Hanson, a totally famous porn star who I do not remember talking to. But I must've, because that's how I would've had his address to ask him to sign a page from the feature. He wrote me the above sticky and sweet note that looks like it was written by a girlfriend.
I was much more attached to Rick Koch, who was superhot, superhairy and gave a me a scorching-hot interview considering he was also straight. In spite of the fact that I was so cock-blinded by him that I misspelled his name as Rich in the magazine, he generously signed a photo of his peen for me, playfully asking me to lend him a hand in the shower.
I was, after all, an editor with the power to run these guys again and again.
Whoever said porn stars are not smart probably places too much emphasis on arts and literature.
When I first, first started getting into pursuing celebs for autographs, and before I cooled on it for decades, I heard Brooke Shields was making an appearance at Marshall Field's to promote something truly ridiculous in the women's department, and I knew I had to go. Unlike my experiences with Elizabeth Taylor and Cher—both of whom had spoken from a stage to a crowd of hundreds, both of whom I'd been able to ask questions of—I would actually get to meet Brooke.
When I thought of Brooke Shields, I thought of Pretty Baby, Blue Lagoon and Calvin Klein. I figured presenting her with a photo of her hairless gotch would result in an arrest, I had no Blue Lagoon materials on me and I was perplexed about how to work in the CK reference. Then I remembered her blunt anti-smoking commercial, and I knew I had to have her sign a book of matches. Why not? I'd mailed Sally Field a pocket Bible to sign in honor of The Flying Nun.
She was really nice and signed the matches and a poster, making me feel I was not a “real loser.”
I was scheduled to appear on a TV talk show to discuss my then-new Encyclopedia Madonnica. I was told the other guests would be Ned & Stacey's Debra Messing and also the Captain and Tennille. Having loved the latter in the '70s, and remember I randomly owned a 45 of theirs, I brought it.
I made sure to say hello to them in the green room. Tennille was very attentive when I told her about my Madonna book (I can only imagine her feelings about Madonna in 1995), and she signed the 45 with a note wishing me luck on it. In a completely separate marker, the Captain signed “hi also.”
It was clear it would never last.
Above, check out a gallery of 20+ stars, then and now!
Twice a year, I get on a train to New Jersey in the early morning hours, spend a day hustling to get autographs and pic-withs from celebrities who sell those things at an event called Chiller Theatre, then attempt to make it home in one piece. I've had two disastrous experiences—a crippling snowstorm and the time I was overwhelmed by a virus. This time, the worst thing that happened to me was spending hours waiting for a signed picture with Honeymooners star Joyce Randolph, who most people I told the story to thought was long dead. (SPOILER ALERT: She's not.)
For the second time, I arm-twisted my friend John to be my starfucking wingman. How I got him to meet me at 7AM and carry my bag and take all my pic-withs, I'll never know. But I think he has a couple more in him before he refuses the job, which he will...eventually.
Our first roadblock was when we arrived and no shuttle from the Sheraton was there to greet us at the station. A serious-faced young nerd took it upon himself to call the place and, in an almost alarmingly professional tone, inquire as to the fucking whereabouts of our transporation, only to be told they weren't supposed to have shuttles until after 10AM (an hour after the early-bird tickets we held went into effect), but would send one ASAP. Long minutes passed until he called back, only to be told the hotel wouldn't send its first shuttle until 10:50AM! It was beyond stupid for them to leave people at the station like that, though they passively blamed Chiller.
We paid $20 for a town car (the driver was dozing near the train tracks), but the kid rode free since he'd been our mouthpiece.
Keep reading for my take on the stars I encountered...
Above, check out more than 20 then-and-now split-screen images of stars!
Last weekend was my third of four celeb-soaked encounters in the space of a month—first I hit up the Courts Celebrities Fan Fest, then New York Comic Con, then another edition of the Hollywood Show in L.A. (KEEP READING) and finally this past weekend's Chiller Theatre.
More on Chiller very soon.
First up, the L.A. Hollywood Show was quieter this time, leading some attendees to wonder if this type of non-genre autograph show might be dying off quicker than Old Hollywood. But it wasn't nearly as dead as the Courts version, so there was still a good flow of starfuckers to keep most of the celebs busy—at least on Saturday. (Sunday was a graveyard—never go if you can only go on a Sunday, when a chunk of the celebs will have decided to suddenly get a bad cold and not show.)
Above, in the gallery, check out juicy then-and-now photos. After the jump, my impressions of each star I met...