Perceiving Georgia Jones as a rival for Prinzzess Felicity Jade’s affection catfighter Tanya Danielle dreams up revenge fantasies, frequently penning grim verses which limn Georgia’s demise:
“Cracked tombstone marks forgotten site,
Hot, rotting corpse has dropped from sight,
All past due respects have been paid,
Remains belong to the depraved,
Mad ghouls who crave debauched delights.”
On the evening of April 18 Tanya drops ballpoint pen, laughs aloud, feels like howling at the full moon. “It would serve Georgia right to lie six feet under, savaged nightly by an assortment of zombies and goblins.” Cold wind blows through dark bedroom, rattling windowpanes and nearly detaching curtains from steel rod. “And tomorrow..” Tanya vows. “I shall take the first step toward making that happen.”
(Georgia Jones and Tanya Danielle star in Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye, a topless ring match featuring skimpy bikinis, high heels, breast mauling, trash talk, nipple twisting, chokeholds, submissions, torture with hairbrush and other implements, eye gouging, scratching, leg scissors, head scissors, fish hooks, stomach claw, KO, belly punching, biting, more. Co-produced by JW.)
Reporter Ralph Axe is having flashbacks from his research..
After a year spent covering LA’s underground fight scene reporter Ralph Axe still ponders moral complexities associated with such a violent, unsanctioned sport. Ralph glances at last night’s notes from an event featuring hometown favorite Tanya Danielle vs. Cajun sensation Prinzzess Felicity Jade:
“Crazed eyes evaluate distress,
Assess degree of injury,
Jeer with exaggerated zest,
Until foe rises gingerly,
New vigor swelling in her chest.”
Honestly, Ralph can’t remember which combatant had first dominated the match. Alternating beatdowns, flurried exchanges, several near KOs had driven the crowd into a roaring, cheering frenzy for thirty minutes straight. Now, just moments before sunrise, Ralph takes a long pull of whiskey before simply placing his aching head atop a well-worn Daily Bugle desk. Only one thing seems certain: more than one cranium will pound with regret in the morning.
I have been posting numerous photos from Ides of Perfection starring Prinzzess Felicity Jade vs. myself (above) throughout January at my OnlyFans Twitter feed.
IDES OF PERFECTION
Attempts to psychoanalyze disturbing February 13 incident tax police sergeant’s brain. Yet again he scrutinizes handwritten note found at one combatant’s home:
“Icy blonde perfection,
Every sense in me
Shocked beyond redemption.”
Guilt and obsession saturate words but cop doesn’t know if Tanya Danielle penned note before or after her stunning melee with Prinzzess Felicity Jade. Has a crime been committed? Thus far no one can agree whether sexual component of wrestling match had happened spontaneously or resulted from premeditation. Once more cop pops DVD into player, labors to decide what charges, if any, Tanya Danielle should face.
Join Officer Smedley in viewing the footage which has scandalized an entire metropolitan police force..
I will probably release the video in mid-February, just in time for both the Ides of February and Valentine’s Day 😉
I have been subsisting on coffee. Somewhere on the cusp of Orange and Los Angeles Counties I pulled into a donut shop driveway only to find above sign taped to window (top pic.) You can see my reaction in second pic. Lately I’ve been throwing a few too many internal tantrums – think I hide it pretty well but I’ve had a number of “moments” in recent days, probably due to not sleeping quite enough. Thankfully, my friend Phil sent me this video today. It definitely improved my afternoon. Thanks, Phil!
This coming week looks very busy but I have prepared updates:
As anyone who lives here will tell you Los Angeles sprawls all over the place. I reside in one of the furthest corners of Los Angeles County while my friend Paul lives on a different fringe. Periodically we meet in Orange County (equidistant from both our homes) for drinks. On a recent occasion we visited Beach Girls in Westminster. Other than bikini-clad bartenders the beach theme has vanished. I seem to recall a large room with concrete floors, graffiti, and pool tables. Or maybe the graffiti was just in the rest room (top pic.) Paul and I had a good time there. A friendly bartender, wearing skimpy black shorts and top beneath flannel shirt, mixed us a gin-based concoction worthy of the Biltmore Hotel in 1923. Sounds like a strange description but it truly seemed like a cocktail that the dignified elite would have been sipping in one of America’s grand hotels during the Roaring 20s. Upon my first taste of the drink I had raised my eyebrows over the rim of the glass while my lips were still fastened around it. Paul spoke before I could. “This is great!” he commented with feeling. I agreed. After a lifetime of drinking I have felt that way exactly one time. Usually I drink straight vodka or gin with no desire to mix it with anything.
Accompanying photos of stunning Alix Lynx vs. myself have nothing to do with Beach Girls but I always post a few skin pics and Satyr’s Spell starring Alix vs. myself just went on sale for $19.99 (normally $28.99) this week. Hope everyone is having a pleasant Monday!
Shortly before dawn this morning I saw a glowing formation on perhaps the 20th floor of a neighboring building. After a minute I realized that the full moon – still stunningly bright – was reflecting off building’s plate glass windows. So beautiful! Did Jewell Marceau have the same reaction in Stadium Thrill when she looked up to find my ass descending on her face? Hahaha! Probably not.. 🙂
So many disjointed events have occurred that they seem like kaleidoscope fragments shifting around inside my head. It all started with a routine visit to the dentist who told me that I had a cyst on my throat. He advised that I make an appointment with an ear, nose, and throat specialist immediately. I did so, completing four days of shooting beforehand. On the appointed day my friend Jed kindly accompanied me to the doctor’s office in case I needed a biopsy and might not feel comfortable driving home. After a short exam doc informed me that dentist had simply located the carotid bulb on my neck, not a cyst. Stunned but relieved I paid the agreed-upon $200 fee (I no longer have health insurance for reasons discussed here) and departed.
Within 48 hours Jed had cracked his tooth by biting into a bone. Of course I returned the favor and drove him to an exam as he had so kindly done for me. Hours passed. I revised text for Summertime Rune (new version entitled Strawberry Moon), filed my nails, flipped through a magazine, watched Hurricane Harvey coverage on TV, walked to 7-11 for a snack, stretched, had a cup of coffee, used the bathroom. Afternoon staff replaced morning staff at the dental office. One of the new arrivals shot a long, speculative look at me. I overheard swing shift receptionist assure an antsy patient that “Normally we never have waits like this but all our dentists are tied up with an emergency.” Finally my phone chirped.
“Took forever to get that tooth out, just waiting to get sown up.” Jed’s message read.
Maybe 20 minutes later Jed staggered into the waiting room. I tried to keep a neutral expression on my face because he looked like he had gone through a war. Jed tried to talk, could not do so, stumbled into a nearby bathroom to spit blood into the sink. Only much later did he describe a truly barbaric scenario in which a tech held his jaws apart while two different dentists tried for hours to pry a splintering molar out of his mouth. For the moment I needed to fill Jed’s prescription for pain pills. “Rite Aid” he managed to mumble. Jed waited in the car while pharmacy assistant searched inventory, apologetically returned unfilled prescription to me due to lack of immediate availability. Inspiration struck when I returned to the wheel: “I have pain pills at home from my surgery in June!” I proclaimed while starting engine. Upon arrival building manager looked a bit askance when Jed and I alighted from car and Jed spat a stream of blood into the sewer. I bee-lined straight to my bathroom where I spent precious minutes hunting for the pills. In the meantime Jed had found a bottle of vodka in the freezer. “I’m not sure that you should.. ” I started to say and then just shut up. Later on Walgreens filled his Norco prescription and the experience has ended well.
Several days after dental episode I went to a court hearing where a friend’s son would possibly be turning himself in to face jail time. Friend and I arrived a bit late and could not find seats next to son. “He looks sad.” my friend said about son. “Look how red his eyes are.” Honestly, son did not appear that sad to me – he looked like someone who had indulged in a proverbial “last hurrah” overnight but I didn’t say anything. Judge gave son thirty days to get his affairs in order and report for an 8-month sentence in Los Angeles County Jail.
One day later I learned of an advanced water damage/mold situation that I would need to fix on my property. With that in mind I attended a lovely memorial service and could not really ponder the meaningful event because I needed to meet with a contractor about the mold issue directly afterward. Contractor assessed the significant damage and we drove to Home Depot. “Watch it, watch, watch it.. ” he cautioned as a random individual pedaled toward us atop a cornflower blue bicycle with large white basket. Cyclist drifted all over the roadway, enjoying the breeze, his freedom, his ability to disrupt all traffic in the vicinity. I recognized the bike as one of those rented in a popular tourist area miles and miles away. “Pedal for fitness and health!” a banner on the white basket read. “Ha, Ha, Ha!” contractor chortled aloud, his inflection getting higher on each “Ha!” “Look at him go! Look at this guy go!” I burst out laughing too. Bike thief was enjoying his ride more than anyone from the gentrified “Pedal for fitness and health!” enclave ever could.
As I sit here typing a freak, beautiful rainstorm has just begun pummeling my neighborhood. So awesome! We have been experiencing a 90+ degree heat wave near the ocean. Recent occurrences – including this sudden summer rain – have left me slightly discombobulated, like I haven’t really had a chance to process everything that’s happened in the past week or two. I am posting above photos from Stadium Thrill because I need some nudie pics and because they reflect how my circumstances have been veering all over the place lately..
Anyways, I feel very grateful for all blessings and hope everyone is doing well. I will try to answer post comments in the next few days.
I just added Stadium Thrill starring Jewell Marceau vs. myself to my Clips4Sale store. Ringmaster STJ’s backyard wrestling ring probably does not qualify as a “stadium” but I can’t seem to resist the verbiage:
“All muscles, no strength.” wrestler sneers,
“Wait til the bell rings.” model jeers,
Adrenaline pounds cranium,
Insanity fills stadium,
Testosterone-infused crowd cheers..
Wrestler jerks awake, pouring sweat. Strange dream had coupled snippets of trash talk with head-pounding pain. Might it be predicting dire outcome of upcoming match? Wrestler dismisses notion after five seconds of reflection. “No fitness model, especially Jewell Marceau, has enough skills to cause me even one iota of pain.” she blurts aloud to empty room..
Yep, Jewell Marceau and I are back in all our trash talking glory. In honor of this long-awaited reunion I have put Stadium Thrill on sale for $19.99 (regularly $38.99) through Sunday, September 3. Funny, about 16 hours after this match I was lying on an operating table as I underwent surgery. Almost completely healed now and working on photos which accompany video footage. Thanks so much to everyone who has posted comments. I really enjoy your feedback and have answered about 3/4 of recent messages. Will return tomorrow to answer more. Hope everyone is having a nice Monday!
I return from a mysterious 36-hour illness which reminded me a bit of this. Let me backtrack..
About a week ago I spontaneously attended a Pacific Islander festival. Friend and I paid $10.99 for above 1.75 liters of Smirnoff. For that price I could ignore the “raspberry infusion” in this particular bottle. We had a great time talking, laughing, eating ethnic food, watching a dance show, splitting raspberry vodka with other friends. The following morning I awoke to a mostly empty vodka bottle on my desk accompanied by a strange handwritten note:
Enchanted fruit injects
Dark madness into me..
Don’t remember writing those words but I do that all the time – odd scribblings turn up under my bed, inside my pockets, beneath car seat, even saved inside my computer. “Raspberry 33” made sense because for years I’ve maligned vodka “flavors” as synthetic travesties: “Oh, yuck, is that Vanilla #24?”, “Who wants to ruin good vodka with Grape #12?”, “Real vodka should not taste like pear..”, etc. Yes, I could see why I scribbled “Raspberry 33” but last line seemed to have no relevance to such a fun evening. Shaking my head I tossed piece of paper back onto desk, deposited vodka into freezer, continued with day.
Nearly a full week later (this past Friday) I finished packing for upcoming shoot and decided to pour myself a drink before bed. Bottle of Raspberry 33 lay waiting. I loaded final props into suitcase, zipped it with finality, watched end of Boogie Nights with vodka in hand. Hours later, as previously mentioned, this happened. I don’t know why. Two days later I have wracked my brain trying to figure out what had affected me so adversely. A friend and I had had some potato tacos, later I’d made an omelette out of fresh eggs and freshly washed vegetables.. and I’d drunk some of the remaining Raspberry 33. For the record, friend and I had been pouring vodka into plastic containers for everyone at the Pacific Islander festival so the bottle itself stayed just as clean as when we bought it. Honestly, I don’t think germs would live on a liquor bottle anyway, especially not after a week in the freezer. During the worst of my illness I remembered that strange poem I had written and suddenly the words assaulted me with haunting clarity:
Enchanted fruit injects
Dark madness into me..
Lol.. anyone who has experienced a bad case of food poisoning knows how the mind can wander when subject to extreme dehydration. Recovery took from Friday night til noon today. Needless to say I had to reschedule my shoot. A few minutes ago I logged onto computer only to find STJ’s latest e-mail blast of photos. Check out those raspberry streaks in Nicole Oring‘s hair, raspberry flower barrette, and raspberry trimmed bikini:
Maybe I need to avoid all things raspberry for a while 😉
Many thanks to custom photo/video collectors who have to wait a little longer for me to shoot. I do have a newly scheduled date. Hope everyone is having a great weekend! I will return to answer post comments after I drink another half gallon of water. Still trying to re-hydrate.. so grateful to regain good health.
Needed a head change the other day and stumbled into a local tavern. For some unknown reason I had been feeling strangely agitated and couldn’t seem to shake the mood. Even worse a strong sense of guilt accompanied the agitation (“People are fighting in wars, losing jobs, succumbing to cancer – who am I to get irritated about anything?”) Intoxicants generally just amplify one’s existing mood so I knew that I was tempting fate with bar visit. Fortunately establishment had only two other patrons and owner greeted me warmly. He and I folded bar towels, looked at photos of trees while nearby ladies discussed dating adventures. An hour later I departed drunk and happy – head change achieved.
Photos really have nothing to do with bar story other than to demonstrate that it’s always possible to find a ray of sunshine amidst the clouds 😉 Lol.. let me become your life coach (“Just have a few cocktails. You’ll feel great!”) Or, better yet, allow me to instruct you in masturbation: