When my agent, Lupus, suggested a sex tape might be the perfect way to reinvigorate my career after the “incident” with “Glenn Close” at “Applebee’s” (my lawyer insists on all those quotation marks), I was dubious, but then she said something that I thought made sense.
“If that hotel broad can do it, you sure as sh*t can, Babycakes.” Unfortunately it didn’t go quite as well as planned.
My first mistake was filming it on my friend Esperanza’s iPhone. The result was really blurry; most of the time you couldn’t tell who was coming or going. The whole dildo sequence had to be scrapped, despite the efforts we made to fix it in editing. You couldn’t even see the horse.
But the biggest failure was in marketing. I left it out in the open for the contractors I hired to “find” and sell to the highest bidder. I thought labeling the DVD “Going Monkey F*ck Crazy” would have surely gotten them to bite, but I think they were Mormons or something like that. I should have tried a different angle.
We then tried dealing directly with the porn companies ourselves, but we kept getting the same response: “Who are you?” Apparently the draw for sex tapes is that you’re already of some notoriety. I wish somebody had told me that before I fucked the horse.
But I’m no quitter. I’ve decided to learn from my mistakes and get everything right the second time around. I’m shopping this idea around to D-list male celebrities in the hopes that they’ll partner with my in my next venture.