Absolute Mayhem (21 page)

Meantime, I'm going to keep on celebrating and
enjoying my own sexuality. That's kind of a weird thing
to say at this particular time, when the industry is in a
serious recession. A lot of girls have given up and are
trying to get normal jobs. A girl who's actively working
in the industry right now will be doing maybe three
scenes per month, while a lot of girls aren't even getting
one scene a month and have to supplement their income
with escort work.

And so, I have also found myself auditioning for
mainstream movies, with mixed results. In late 2007,
I made a fantastic breakthrough when I was cast in a
small role in a mainstream movie. And not just any
mainstream movie: this was
Sex and the City
. When I
auditioned for it, the casting directors took a Polaroid
of me, along with several other blonde girls, and then
they came back and told me and a couple of other girls
to wait. They called me in first, and said, 'You were the
director's favourite, but can you just show us that you
can fake having sex?'

I said, 'How? Where? Right here on this chair, by
myself?'

One of the casting directors replied, 'Yeah, or whatever
you're more comfortable with.'

So I just rode the chair. I rode it like I was having
sex, reverse-cowgirl style. Bucked my hips, rocked my
thighs, and just let it rip.

When I finished, they asked if I was available on the
days they wanted, and once they'd called Harry Weiss
to confirm, that was that. My first-ever part in a mainstream
Hollywood movie, and it was so much easier
than I'd imagined! It was a small part, but all I had to do
was be myself, both in terms of getting the role and then
doing the real work. (Whose idea was that to hire a real
porn star to play 'Dante's Lover', which was how I was
finally credited? Not that I'm complaining.)

When I arrived on the set, all I could see were about
20 trailers. Kind of confused about where to go, I asked
a crew guy, 'This is
Sex and the City
, right?' I told him
I was shooting and he directed me to the production
manager, who took me to my own trailer. It was small,
with a bed, table and bathroom, but it had my name on
the front so I felt a little special. I had a nice big meal
and then sat around waiting to be called for my scene.
I sipped hot chamomile tea, as it was freezing. Then I was
called into hair and make-up, where I met Jason Lewis,
who played Smith, Samantha's on-screen boyfriend, and
my co-star Gilles Marini, who played Dante, Sam and
Smith's neighbour in Malibu. Gilles was a smokin' hot
French guy, and though I was supposed to be acting
I wanted to fuck him for real!

My hair looked fabulous, but they asked for natural
make-up, which is one thing I hate about mainstream
shows. I don't feel sexy at all having almost no make-up
on, so I sneaked a little more on, since I had brought my
own with me. I didn't add too much, though, because I
knew they'd get pissed. Then I had to fill in my paperwork
and – damn! – that was when I realised I was going
to earn three times more than I would for a real sex scene,
and all I had to do was a simulated sex scene! God, I love
the Screen Actors Guild (SAG). I wish we had the same
kind of union in porn. We don't get paid nearly enough
money for risking our health and our lives.

I didn't get my wish to fuck Gilles, of course, though
I will reveal here that he wasn't wearing a sock, meaning
both of us were totally naked. As a mainstream actor, his
name wasn't yet known to many people, but after
Sex and
the City
came out he called me to say he was getting lots
of offers for various things, and I was so happy for him.

Our scene happens about half an hour into the movie,
when Samantha, played by Kim Cattrall, is in the jacuzzi
and suddenly realises from hearing my moaning and
groaning that she has a hot new neighbour – meaning
Gilles, not me. (I was playing second fiddle to her second
fiddle, so to speak.) It was a funny scene to do because
they asked me to moan loudly, over and over again. The
idea was to show that I could be heard next door, over
the ocean and the double-glazed windows, which in
reality would've been impossible. But I think it made
it that much funnier, since all you hear is me moaning
really loud and then Samantha turning around because
she heard me. (I wonder if I turned her on, too. I guess
I'll never know.)

In December 2008, I was offered another role in a
mainstream show, and this time it was the lead! It was in a
HBO film for cable TV, and it was on the condition that I
use my real name. While I was debating whether or not to
take the plunge and do that, I found out that they couldn't
change the shoot dates and I was left with a scheduling
conflict – I had to fl y out to Tampa Bay in Florida for three
days of dance gigs that same week. The HBO people said
they couldn't work around my dates, so I lost the part.

At the time, the choice wasn't all that difficult, given
the challenging economic climate. Florida was the sure
thing, cash in the bank, whereas the movie was a maybe.
Then, I was offered another dance gig, in Puerto Rico,
and yet another lead role in a mainstream movie came
my way. I had to ask myself, 'Should I take the dance
gigs with the big money or the cable-TV roles with
not as much money but which might help extend my
mainstream acting career?'

There was surely no better time for me to rethink my
longevity in the adult industry, and I began to reach the
conclusion that it was time for a change. They say that
change is a good thing if it's the right change, don't they?
And if it's the wrong change, well, you're screwed. And
I think I'm going to discover which one I'm headed for
real soon.

It's been over nine years since I left Australia,
but every now and then something will give
me a huge pang of homesickness. Recently, I was listening
to Soundscapes, the relaxation music station on
cable, when suddenly I was in a trance to this awesome
Aboriginal music. It made me miss home immensely,
where it is so spiritual and beautiful. I missed watching
the lightning and thunderstorms in the middle of a hot
summer.

You don't realise how great a country Australia is
until you leave and see how the rest of the world lives.
Especially America. As grateful as I am to be here living
the dream in Hollywood, this country does things quite
differently, in many ways. Maybe I'm just very patriotic,
I don't know, but I still call Australia home. (Poor Peter
Allen must be rolling in his grave; I'm sure he never
thought he'd ever hear a porn chick say those words
– though I suspect that, like most gay men, he surely
loved porn stars!)

I'm certainly nostalgic and want to go back, for sure.
Of course, I could never have made a career out of porn
back home, so it has been a good stay for me, out here
in Southern California.

My remaining immediate family still lives in
Aus tralia. I'm now quite close to my dad and his wife.
They visited me in LA last Christmas and, the year
before that, I went to Sydney and spent the holidays
with them. They are such good people and they know
I love them, even though I know they've been put
through quite a lot because of me. For a long time,
they never knew what I really did.

When I wrote to my father and told him I was a porn
star, to say that he was freaked out would be an understatement.
He sent me a screaming reply in red letters.
Then he didn't talk to me for four months. I finally
responded by telling him, 'It's my life. I'm not hurting
anyone and I'm not pregnant or anything,' or words to
that effect. This seemed to eventually sink in and he
started talking to me again.

As far as anyone else back home knowing about me,
my brother always told anyone who asked that I was
living in Los Angeles and I was an actress and a model.
My brother is pretty cool with my career – he even came
to the AVN Awards in Las Vegas in 2007 and hung out
when I was doing my promotional appearances and
made funny faces at me when I was signing autographs
at the booth. My brother and I have been through a lot.
Despite all the bad things he and I experienced while
we were growing up, and as much as we both used to
fight one another, he would always make me laugh. He
still does, to this day. He is just hilarious. So I guess our
mother didn't ruin our sense of humour.

Maybe being a smartass was his way of dealing with
things, always making a joke out of everything. We used
to laugh at our mother whenever she was obviously
drunk and we'd say things like, 'Mum's bumping into
things again!' She would get so wasted that we'd hear
her crashing into the walls in the middle of the night.
We still joke about that. At least I have one person in the
family who's comfortable with my job, which is more
than some porn stars have – a lot of them have fallen out
completely with their families because of what they do
and aren't on speaking terms any more.

But my career is here now, and when I move more
into mainstream movies and music, LA will definitely
be the right place to be. After
Sex and the City
, I'm
hoping to get into mainstream a little more. I realise
that I'll be typecast, but that doesn't bother me. I love
acting, and with my SAG card it will be much easier,
since the money is fantastic, and it's totally worthwhile
being on-set for up to 12 hours a day.

These days I put loads of time and effort into my
website, which allows me to work from home more. For
a few years, I was signed up with some webmasters who
didn't do a good job – not doing enough to generate
income from the site and keep my members happy – but
after I got out of that contract and went with a different
crew things got a lot better. Although, the deal was that
my old webmasters would give back the domain name
monicamayhemxxx.com and, in return, we'd send them
traffic. But, of course, they kept the old site up, still
claiming it to be my official site. I've been doing everything
I can to put the word out that monicamayhem.com is
my real official site. So far, things are going well with the
new webmasters; the site is definitely a hundred times
better and more personal and interactive with the fans.
As for the live chats, I do that for my website members
once a month through my own site, and Imlive.com every
once in a while, despite the fact that their celebrities only
earn 35 per cent. (Seriously, I can be masturbating and
talking for two hours, and they get 65 per cent!)

But my life can get pretty lonely sometimes. I'm
oft en home alone, and some nights I just stay in writing
songs, watching TV and thinking. I feel like there aren't
that many people I can hang out with in LA, because
everyone seems so fake here. I have a few real friends,
but that's not enough.

I declared that 2008 would be my 'selfish' year. It
wasn't totally a success, but I did put my foot down a
lot more than I used to. I won't take shit from users any
more. No more spending my hard-earned money on
other people who are too damn lazy to get a real job.
I stopped taking antidepressants, which I had been on
for years and which screwed me up even more, made me
numb or made me feel like I was going to lose my mind.
But I've found that since I've been getting acupuncture
and taking Chinese herbs every week, my life has really
changed a lot. I may lose motivation or need a change
every once in a while, but at least I'm not depressed and
miserable any more. I'm pretty sure all the drugs had a
big part in why I felt that way for so long.

I still have the asthma, by the way, but it's not nearly
as severe as it was. Now, I try to use my inhaler only
every other day, because I don't want to have to rely on
that to breathe.

I've found it's important to nurture myself when I
am at home, so that when I go out into the world I can
be at my best. In February 2007 and 2008, for example,
I went down to Mexico City for the Mexico Sex &
Entertainment show, which is a huge event. In 2008, I
was there signing for Kchondiuxx, Pipedream's distributor
in Mexico, who paid me and put me up at the
W Hotel on Campos Eliseos in Chapultepec Polanco, a
very nice area that some people call the Beverly Hills of
Mexico City. The city itself is very hectic, very crowded
and very noisy, with a lot of traffic. This expo has a ton
of fans attending, a ton of entertainment and people
announcing stuff very loudly over the speakers nonstop.
It's really enough to drive you insane!

I did my own hair and make-up before the show, then
sat in a booth surrounded by large posters of myself –
not the most fl attering picture, but I guess they liked it.
The fans had to purchase something before they could
get an autograph or take a photo, so it wasn't too hectic
that year, and I had a lot of security. When I took a break,
there were 50 guys waiting for me, taking my picture as
I came out of the toilet. Crazy!

By 8 pm, I was exhausted from eating very little and
drinking caffeinated drinks all day. I gave an interview
to a guy who made me so mad, questioning why I don't
do anal and saying he didn't understand the fact that
I don't care that you make more money doing anal.
He would not let it go! Then he told me I wasn't a 'real'
porn star because of it. I tried to explain to him that
it makes no difference, but he then asked what class of
porn star I was. I tried to explain that there are no real
classes of porn stars, and that 'hardcore' doesn't just
mean 'anal'!

Another fan came in for an autograph and photo,
and I was so frustrated and off ended by this dumbass
reporter that I started shaking. I couldn't figure out what
was wrong with me. I ate a little, then shut the curtains
and lay down. They finally let me leave after five hours of
signing. As I was walking out, I thought I was going to
fall over. Everything seemed so surreal. I felt like I was
on acid. I'm sure the noise, the music and the camera
fl ashes were a big factor as to why I felt this way. I was
so scared and didn't want to make too much of a fuss in
front of my people.

The organisers don't understand that signing autographs
for so long, without a decent break away from
the crowds and the noise, is not exactly good for you. I
guess I was just wiped out. These ill-informed reporters
were there just to toy with me (pardon the pun). Just
because I had my own line of vibrators and sex dolls,
they treated me with the thinly disguised contempt
reserved for women who are little more than whores in
their close-minded estimation.

When I got back from Mexico, I decided to kick
myself into gear a little more. I signed up with a personal
trainer and had my first session. My body-fat percentage
was not bad – 24 per cent. I weighed 58 kg and
measured 36–28–36. (Wow. I thought I was 34–24–34. I
guess I'm a little more curvy now!) The girl training me
was a hot Latina, with long black hair and crystal blue
eyes. She could be a huge porn star. But I just told her
I was a regular actress. I don't like people judging me
so I don't tell everyone.

It's a challenge to stay in shape because at this point in
my life I feel like I'm permanently on the road. Since I've
been shooting fewer porn films, I've been doing more
feature dancing, all across the good ol' US of A, oft en
in the most obscure of towns, stuck in the middle of
nowhere. A lot of my evenings involve me performing
various kinds of uniquely sexy routines. Like my lotion
show, called 'Stick It to Monica', where I rub lotion all
over my body and then walk around the tip rail to let the
guys (and/or girls) stick their dollar bills anywhere they
want to! For obvious reasons, this show tends to be the
most popular – I mean, who wouldn't want to touch
the body of a hot porn star?

Another show I love doing is the paint show, where
I take a big piece of canvas that I've pre-signed and
kissed and then have the DJ put on the black lights while
I daub my body with glow-in-the-dark paints. I'll rub
my breasts and my pussy onto the canvas, and –
voila!
–
a work of art, which is then auctioned off on stage!

There are a couple of other shows I also like doing.
There's one called 'Cooter Ball', where I grip a shot glass
between my legs and each guy in the audience has to
roll up a dollar bill and try to throw it into the glass.
The glass is really small so it's not easy to make the
shot. The prize is a DVD, personally signed by me. (If
someone gets it in too soon, I'll keep the game going and
give another movie away to the next lucky winner.) The
other fun show is 'Rides for Five', in which the customers
have to lie on their backs onstage, holding up their
$5 bills for me, and I go around and give them lap
dances, just quick ones but usually sticking my crotch
in their faces. In fully nude places, this means that they
get my
bare
crotch right up close and personal!

I also love to mess with girls onstage. I'll go up to
any women who are sitting at the tip rail (customers or
performers – you're fair game if you're at the tip rail)
and start slapping their boobs or grabbing them, and
they never seem to mind. Oft en, the strippers will come
up onstage just to play with me. I always go around
sticking my own tits in everyone's faces (everyone who
has at least $1 for me, that is). And, of course, at the
end of the show I'll throw out free posters for the fans,
who can come up to me and get them signed later.
(After every show, I'll be at a signing area, where the
fans can come up for a meet-and-greet with me.) I sell
them posters, Polaroids, DVDs and magazines. And lap
dances, too – for US$100 a song, usually. Most of the
time, I meet some pretty cool fans and I'll also get
the occasional diehard fan who knows everything that
I've ever done and will bring a huge array of box-covers,
magazines and other stuff for me to sign. (Then, of
course, he'll buy anything else that I have to offer!)

My shows are very high-energy, which takes a lot out
of me. Dancing, however, is not what it used to be. Times
are tough for everyone these days. I used to get paid
twice as much per show, and they would buy two return
airfares for me so I could bring a roadie (or an assistant),
plus I would always get my demands met for a nice hotel
(like a Hilton or a Crowne Plaza). Some clubs would
send a limo to pick me up from the airport, as well as
to and from the club every night, and the ones with the
five-star restaurants would provide me with lobster and
filet mignon and all the Cristal (as in the Louis Roederer
champagne, not meth!) that I could drink.

Nowadays, I sometimes only get one return airfare,
and it's not always first class (although, as a lot of people
will agree, first class on a lot of domestic American
airlines isn't very good anyway), and I don't always
get the nicest hotel. Take, for example, my latest trip
to Wisconsin. I started off in Milwaukee, in a Hiltonfamily
hotel that was decent enough but with no room
service. Then I got driven 45 minutes away to a ghost
town called Juneau (population 2200), where they left
me for dead in this old, smelly, dirty apartment right
next to the club. The club itself was beautiful and brand
new, but this apartment was the worst place I've ever
been put in. I had three days off before my next set of
shows started, and there was absolutely nothing around
and nowhere to eat. (To add insult to injury, there were
no utensils in the apartment to cook with, either!) I had
to have a friend, who lived 50 minutes away, come and
drive me everywhere – including the grocery store, so
I could at least have some fresh fruit and veggies.