Holly Randall Part Two Part
Four Holly's Website
Xpeeps profile Holly's dad Humphry
Randall (eldest of Suze's three kids) does not remember the
first time we met. She thinks it was at the Tampa
Show (10/9/05). But
it was January 8, 2005 on the red carpet at the AVN Awards.
Holly was too drunk to remember me or almost anything else from
About six months later, I noticed her outspoken posts on XPT and
emailed her for an interview. She asked around and was warned by
many people (including her boyfriend) not to do it. She decided
she would do it anyway and told her publicist so. I never heard
from either Holly or her publicist.
I talked to Holly for hours at the Nightmoves
Awards, Sunday, Oct. 9, 2005. She got drunk. I offered her my
t-shirt and underwear and we swam until late at our motel.
Lee, Luke, Holly Holly,
Randall, Luke Holly,
And thus began a great romance (well, I didn't kiss her for another
three weeks as she had a boyfriend).
On October 17, Holly wrote on her chatboard on suze.net:
It's funny, that
was the first time I'd met Luke and for some reason
we just got along really well and hung out the whole night
of the awards. There were so many pics taken of us I joked
that it looks like we're a couple..
By October 30, 2005, the end of daylight savings, we were a couple.
Randall Hit On Tera Patrick?
Holly calls me from New York at 9:11am, Nov 1, 2005: "Listen
to what Tera Patrick wrote [in the new book Naked
Ambition: Women Pornographers and How They Are Changing the Sex
Tera wrote: "I lived at Suze Randall's home for a while and
when she wasn't busy hitting on me, I was getting published in every
magazine imaginable. In retrospect, she probably paid for that house
off of the pictures she shot of me, but no matter."
When Suze was younger (she posed nude in Playboy and Hustler before
she became a photographer to support her husband's writing career,
he's published two books), she slept with Warren Beatty, Jack Nicholson,
Jim Brown, Hugh Hefner, Larry Flynt and Traci Lords. But over the
past 20 years, she's been busy as a working mom and doesn't hit
on people anymore (to the best of my knowledge, for instance, she's
never hit on me).
Holly: "My mom did not hit on Tera Patrick. My mom does not
hit on any of her models. She's [really bad word here] 58-years
old. We bought that house at least six years before we ever met
Tera. Can you believe she said that? Actually, I can believe she
said that. That's disgusting."
Holly (stuck in a two-star hotel) and several other contributors
(paid $50 each for their essays) to the book, including Wicked's
Stormy, have paid their own way to New York to do a few readings.
In a "Holly Randall for American Bukkake" fan
thread on XPT, Holly writes: "Sorry but I'm saving myself
On page 172 of her book How
to Make Love Like a Porn Star: A Cautionary Tale, Jenna Jameson
I began to feel like Suze was taking advantage of me. My pictures
appeared in every sex ad and foreign nudie magazine imaginable.
And since I'd signed away the rights, she was raking in all the
money. Whenever I asked her for a few chromes for a promo shot
or to make a modeling book, she'd refuse. I'd ask her instead
to shoot an extra roll for me at our next session instead, and
she'd say she couldn't. She made her living off enthusiastic new
girls like myself, and I understood that and was grateful to her
for making me an international cover girl. But there was a bigger
problem -- she was stringing me along, telling me that each shoot
we did just might be a centerfold in Penthouse. However, nothing
we did ever appeared there, and that had been my drea from day
one. And with every picture of mine that was published somewhere
else, my chances of ever being a Penthouse Pet plummeted lower
So I added Suze to mental s---list of people I could not trust
and decided to stop working with her. Though my reasons made sense
logically, they were also convenient rationalizations for my drug
Suze was hurt and then furious when she heard about this remark.
She says Jenna's comments are unfair. Suze gave Jenna a piece of
her mind at Paul Fishbein's 2005 wedding, saying, "I'm sorry
I wasn't there for you when you were going through tough times,
but you've always allowed yourself to be controlled by whichever
man you were with at the moment, and that hasn't changed."
I don't believe Jenna responded.
The Pornographer's Daughter
Holly Randall writes on Suze.net:
I have to say the good reception I've had from my essay
in Naked Ambition has really inspired me to start my book-- my parents
and I have already discussed it and we think "The Pornographer's
Daughter" would be a good title. I'm only a little worried because
to write a story about my life, I have to be honest about those
closest to me-- and that would obviously be my parents. My mom was
scared to read my piece in Naked Ambition, but once she did she
was very proud of me. My parents were honestly the best you can
ask for, but like all human beings, they did some things that really
affected me as a kid. I want to be honest and forthright, but I
don't want to hurt them. This is my dilemma.
(interview done January 2003), Holly says:
I certainly have a very high sex drive but I don't know
if that's because of the business I work in or because that's my nature.
It's kind of like "which came first, the chicken or the egg"? Do I work
in the porn industry because I like sex, or do I like sex because I
work in the porn industry?
Ever since I was a young girl I've been fascinated by
sex, but is that because I grew up around it because that's what my
parents do? I don't know-- I just remember when I was about 8 or so
my favorite book was "Where Do I Come From?" which is an illustrated
children's book answering the common question of how babies are made.
I recall re-reading over and over again the part about sex and what
it was like, they described it as "being tickled with a feather, but
much nicer!". I was so curious to know what that feather tickling was
like! But unlike some may think, I didn't even kiss my first boy until
I was 14, and I didn't have sex until I was 16. Boys never really liked
me as a kid, so I was safe from any premature sexual activity.
I actually don't have one-night stands because I don't
like having sex with strangers, but when I've got someone I want it
all the time! I even have male friends I just have sex with, that's
always a safe and good time. But though I am boy-crazy and a huge flirt,
I am looking for that one guy that I can have crazy and consistent sex
with for the rest of my life.
Holly Randall On Women's Sexual Liberation
This hardly seems like the demure girl I've gotten to know over the
past few weeks. I
was quite taken aback when I read her thoughts:
Do we still believe that women are supposed to act demure and play
"hard to get"? If I want to f--- on the first date, does that make
me a slut? Yet the guy would still be a stud, right? Why do we still
fall for this bulls---? If we as women are supposed to really believe
that we are equal to men, then why do we accept this double standard?
I think that if you buy into this mentality then you are accepting
this pathetic patriarchal rule that has plauged women for so long.
Perhaps because I work in the porn industry, perhaps because my parents
were swingers in the 60s and 70s, but I just think it's bulls---.
And if you're going to f--- me on the first date and discard me, then
you're going to miss out on all the other things I'm good at. ;) I'm
sorry but I'm a very honest and upfront person-- I don't pretend to
be someone I'm not-- and if you don't love me for who I am-- well,
it's your loss, isn't it? So ladies-- I say that if you love sex as
much as me-- go ahead and f--- on the first date! And if someone calls
you a slut, just do what I do and change the terminology-- consider
yourself a "sexually liberated female". And then tell them to f---
Randall Doesn't Need Any More Friends Who Can't Spell
She blogs on Myspace June 20, 2005:
Obviously about 90% of the friend requests I get are from people
who don't bother to read my profile. I am on Myspace to meet interesting
people that I share something in common with, or to find old friends
that I've lost touch with. So, again, if you simply send me a friend
request without trying to contact me first, I will automatically deny
you. I won't even check out your profile first, because I just don't
have the patience. It's not that I think I'm too important to add
you as a friend, but I don't want 3,000 people on my friend list.
This especially goes for bands who are just trying to get their names
out there. Good for you guys, but at least consider the fact that
I might want to actually enjoy your music if I'm going to add you.
And then there are the thousands of horny idiotic guys I get friend
requests from and dumb ass messages. If you bothered to read my profile,
you would see that I have a boyfriend. I love him very much and I'm
not interested in any more offers of one night stands. Here are a
few examples of what kind of messages I'm getting from people I'm
NOT interested in getting to know:
to talk about sex
so awsome we need to talk sometime
you ever come to DC let me know. I am a really good looking succesfull
broken hearted lonely guy. Can i fly you to DC for a day and a night?
you are one hot chica! Holla back if you want to hit it up. I'm 6'2,
good looking with a big cock. I will make you cum all the time.
um do u rekon u could accept my friend invite...or if not tis cool?
I have grown tired of the fraud's on this website. The one's that
somehow have enough time on their hand's to make fake profile's. So
if your for real, and you have actually been working for Suze Randall
photography for six year's, you'll know the ansewr to this ? Which
model that has done many photo set's for Suze is a native of Australia,
a brunette, a former Penthouse pet from the 90's (that's all the detail
I'm going into there), and has gone by two other names, of which I'm
not going to mention. I'm on this site, as I'm seriously looking into
becoming a director, not a actor. Because I want to make good porn,
not act in it.
I've met plenty of idiots in my lifetime, I don't need to meet more.
If you have a question about the industry, that's fine, ask me. If
you share similar interests-- authors, movies, music, etc, cool let's
talk. Otherwise find some other dumb blonde who is desperate for attention.
Oh, and BTW-- please at least be over the age of 18 if you're going
to email me. I'm sick of the juvenile messages from horny 16-year-olds.
And one more thing-- bad grammar is an instant "delete"! Get Hooked
on Phonics, for crying out loud.
writes about Jenna Jameson's birthday party.
Vilnii writes Luke: "The whole Holly thing is absolutely facinating!
To think that a wretch like you could land such a doll! I need to get
off my degenerate arse and get a life of my own!"
Monstar writes: "On a positive note: after Holly breaks Luke's
heart, as we all know - that's what women do, he's going to comeback
with a vengeance...which will be right around AEE & the AVNs. I expect
his pictures to be masterpiece."
Holly writes me:
I got a myspace message
from someone who I didn't recognize-- the title was "Say it ain't
so" and the message was: "You are not really messing around with knucklehead
You've certainly made a lot of friends, haven't you?
Was Holly Randall
three when she caught Randy
West masturbating in her parents' garden?
tells Gram Ponante 4/19/05:
"When I was at UCLA I had affairs with some professors.
Not UCLA professors, but sort of visiting professors. I am going to
write a script about the teacher/student relationships that I have fantasies
about. I've always had a thing for teachers.
"My dream cast would include Ben English as the
Holly was three when she caught Randy West masturbating
in her parents' garden.
"I'd gotten away from my nanny or something and Randy
West is in the yard getting himself hard for a Playgirl shoot my mother
was doing. I said, 'Ewww! What are you doing ?' That was the quintessential
example of my youth."
Holly writes me: "Saying that I caught Randy masturbating in my
parent's garden isn't exactly correct-- my mom was shooting him for
Playgirl and I got loose and kinda ran onto the set. He was naked...this
is a story he told me-- I of course don't remember it."
MrSkin.com: "The first time I ever saw porn, I must have been
like seven. My parents were watching some weird porno movie in their
bedroom, the door was open a crack, and I could see through it. This
girl was supposed to be going on a date with some nerd, and her parents
were downstairs waiting, and she was really bummed about it, and some
stud crawled through her window and they started fuckin'. It was hot."
A Rebel Without A Shul
Holly's first (and last) photographic appearance in Hustler:
A Horse Question For Holly Randall
Vilnii writes me 11/25: "We have not had our regular Holly Fix
for a few days now...did you both suddenly decide to go on the down
low? Or has the relationship already flamed out?"
Cam writes me 11/29: "I read on your site that Holly has horses.
Just out of curiosity what kind of riding does she do? Dressage or eventing?
(I'm taking a guess it's one or the other since I read her mother is
Holly replies: "Well eventing involves dressage, so both go hand
in hand. I did 3-day eventing-- 1st day dressage, 2nd day cross-country
jumping, 3rd day stadium jumping. I won the Preliminary Championships
at Flintridge when I was 17 and quit the next day. My mother never forgave
Randall Coast To Coast
April Storm writes:
(Chatsworth, CA) It has taken a very long time, but one can finally
say that Holly Randall’s work
the cover of every major men’s magazine. This
month’s issue of Hustler, which features both a cover shot and
a centerfold captured by Holly, confirms this impressive feat. Well
aware that she joins her mother and a precious few other photographers,
Holly is understandably proud and more than a little bit excited.
“I spotted the cover when I was passing a magazine stand in New York
a couple of weeks ago,” she says, “I bought it from the vendor and
was so excited that I proceeded to show everyone around my work. My
companion reminded me that we were in a conservative part of New York,
and most people would probably not appreciate my work as much as I
did. I made him buy a copy of the daily news so I could hide the magazine
in it and survey the shoot.” Holly was so excited that she called
Larry Flynt and left him a message, thanking him for the cover.
It is even easier to spot Holly’s work on the other coast. Some three
thousand miles away, the City of Angels is decorated with billboards
for Hustler Casino that feature a shot from this latest Holly shoot.
The giant pictures beautify the city and make sure that every Angelino
gets a good look at Holly’s work.
This is not Holly’s official Hustler debut of course. In addition
to her numerous shots that have been published in the magazine, she
appeared in a photo at the ripe old age of (X months). Shortly after
her mother gave birth to Holly, Hustler ran a photo of the pair in
their “Bits & Pieces” column. The photo featured Suze shooting a layout
with her infant daughter strapped to her chest in a sling and breastfeeding.
The accompanying text, in typically classy Hustler style mentioned
that Suze’s “newly swollen tits” were also making their debut and
that Holly, little showoff that was “milked the shot” for all it was
She has come a long way since that original shot ran, but Holly is
still proud to associated with Hustler and proud to be carrying on
the Randall family name so successfully.
do yourself a favour
Well, Holly asks me to do many things I'm not comfortable with, such
as pick up the check.
JamesN writes: "Lukey, you're going to wake up in the middle of
the night to the monkey cage forcing you into a shotgun wedding with
this girl. You don't know what's best for you, we do."
I was chatting with Holly Tuesday afternoon, Nov 29. "Why are
you so freaked about shows like Nip & Tuck and horror movies?"
"Because I have a soul and I don't like to tarnish it."
Randall Launches Her Blog (12/19/05)
I dreamt of one day being famous, happy and beautiful, with a wonderful
husband and gorgeous, intelligent children. I was so secure in my
youth, I was so sure I was going to have the best life ever, and that
I would always be so happy. I was a very solitary kid, I had almost
no friends, and so indulging in these fantasies were a theraputic
release from that current reality. That tree was my best friend.
not into girls. I realize it's a shame with all the beautiful
women I'm surrounded by, but they just don't do it for me. (Plus I
don't have sex with talent. It's just my rule.) I'm not particularly
interested unless there is a cock involved. I've been with a woman
twice in my life-- and both times there was a man involved. I'm very
shy with women, whereas I'm very comfortable with men.
Holly on MySpace. Holly's
HollyRandall: oh god now people are actually going to read my blog
HollyRandall: sheesh i haven't even linked it to my site yet
Lukisback: I've made you and I can break you too.
HollyRandall: you can't break one who is already broken
Lukeisback: brokenness can make for some great writing...suffering for
HollyRandall: yes, that's probably why all the guys i date are totally
HollyRandall: no offense
Randall: 'I never feel up my models. I really try to retain a respectful
distance, even when I'm lubing up their pussies.'
"Seriously, I tell them exactly what I'm about to do and ask if
they are OK with it, and I use all baby wipes, and touch them as little
as possible. I am the lube queen. You have to put a lot on for it to
show up in the photos."
My Religion At LA Direct
Monday afternoon (Dec 19, 2005), Holly
Randall asked me via AIM if I was going to the LADM party that night.
I was so taken aback (after not having heard of the party) that I had
to drive to Ralph's to buy ten pounds of orange, eight pounds of bananas
and 100 feet of mint dental floss before I could answer her.
Still, I felt empty inside. Insecure. Needy.
So off I drove to the drug store and bought a Black & Decker Crush
Master to make my smoothies.
Getting and spending, I laid waste my powers.
"Where's the party?" I finally asked Holly.
"It's invite only," she replied.
I didn't want to crash. I had too much pride to go uninvited.
"I guess I'm not going," I told Holly.
Holly agreed to give up dope if I gave up listening to Debbie Gibson.
Perhaps if I gave up Air Supply and Barry Manilow, she'd quit drinking.
I emailed LADM and asked for permission to come to their party.
Lisa Ann said sure. I called her for the location. "Are you bringing
someone?" she asked.
"No," I said.
"Bring Holly," she said.
"That's a good idea. OK."
Holly calls at 5:32pm.
"Your moral leader," I answer.
"Pfff...At least one of us knows what we're doing.
"Our baby horse was dying when my mom came down. By the time
the vet came there, she was dead. [The horse was worth about $10,000.]
It was an illegitimate horse."
Luke: "The parent's weren't married?"
Holly: "The mother was still a yearling. One of the young stallions
Luke: "Without a condom?"
Holly: "Irresponsible horses."
Burglar writes on XPT:
Extremely refreshing candor and honesty from Holly...We all know
Luke demands and actively seeks out a woman with strong moral fiber
and a functioning moral compass...his patience and integrity have
been rewarded with just about the closest approximation of a perfect
woman today. Luke is a role model for all of us here who only vicariously
practice perversion through the pornography we watch, but who in real
life are decent, upstanding and respectful males who open doors and
pull out chairs for ladies, kiss ladies on the hand, and throw their
$500 coats in 3 feet wide puddles of mud to allow a lady to cross
And Holly, the concerned progressive pornography prodigy with an
old world personal values index ...who wants her girls to be happy
with their bodies, who lovingly practices minimally invasive lube
procudures during dildo shoots, who prefers to avoid potential conflict
of interest sex with talent, and who likes the natural order of things
(cock) as opposed to the unnatural...Holly and Luke are the older
brother/sister role model couple for the porn industry, for both talent
and fans alike.
(Is it just me or does Holly continue to produce as much, if not
more heat/wood as any cum guzzling chick who frequents this board?)
At 6pm, Derek emailed me back: "You can come if Holly comes with
you. The Port, 12430 Riverside Drive."
I called Holly. She's booked to go to the party with her ex-boyfriend
and coworker Chris.
She said to print Derek's email. She laughed that I can only get into
the party if I go with her.
After a decade of responsible porn journalism, I'm debased to the point
where I have to ride a beaver photographer into a party. Combined with
the Cowboys late-season collapse, my life is grim.
Holly called me at 9:38pm as they wee pulling away.
They beat me to the party in Valley Village by 20-minutes.
me in the corner. That's me in the spotlight. Losing my religion.
Trying to keep up with you. And I don't know if I can do it. Oh no I've
said too much. I haven't said enough. I thought that I heard you laughing.
I thought that I heard you sing. I think I thought I saw you try. Every
whisper of every waking hour I'm choosing my confessions trying to keep
an eye on you like a hurt lost and blinded fool. Oh no I've said too
much. I set it up.
I run into Holly. She's leaving a message on my cell phone.
The slip that brought me to my knees failed. What if all these fantasies
come flailing around. Now I've said too much.
12:16pm. Holly's had a few shots and a few beers.
Chris asks her back to the dance floor.
That was just a dream.
Jane writes: "Luke, have you got a therapist? You are really weirding
out on your site about Holly Randall. You should talk to someone about
Vilnii writes: "You guys have already broken up? The relationship
did not survive a second fight? Duke FLAWED...I repeat hopeless hopeless
Duke FLAWED! What have you done?"
What Makes Holly Cry?
Holly Randall writes on her chatboard on Suze.net:
Just to get to know my members better, I've devised
a short but interesting poll for those who wish to be involved to fill
out. I've given my answers:
* What makes you cry?
Sappy Disney movies and sad dogs.
* What makes you angrier than anything else?
Littering. And that includes throwing your cigarette
butts on the street!
* If you could live anywhere else in the world, where
would it be?
* What is the one accomplishment in your life that you
are the most proud of?
Graduating from UCLA.
* If you could be anything or anyone else in the world,
who would it be?
My parent's dog Oscar-- that animal has the best life
* What one thing would you like to do that also scares
the hell out of you?
Shark cage diving.
* If you had any other job in the world besides what
you do currently, what would it be?
High school English teacher.
* What is one of the most magical moments in your life
that you will always remember?
My first time scuba diving. A baby sea lion swam up
to me and playfully tugged at my flippers with his teeth, and then came
directly up to me face to face, it's eyes about 6 inches from mine,
and stayed there staring at me for a while. It gave me what seemed like
a smile, and swam off. I'll never forget that.
writes on Holly's new blog:
Your comment about feeling isolated when you were young is totally
contrary to the person I envision when I see your photographs. Your
work suggests that you would be very outspoken and have a strong personal
vision. Either you out grew your introverted nature or you found an
outlet for it in your work.
I asked a model at a recent convention what it was like to work for
you and your mother. She said your mother looked like the quiet Grandmother
type (I guess the knitting gives that impression), but she had the
most explicit and outrageous things to say during the shoot. An outspoken
lady to be sure, but the british accent made it all sound charming
She said you were a great fan of English literature. It would be
great to see those historical references reflected in your own work.
It will be interesting to see how your work evolves in the next few
years. I am big fan of shadow and contrast. I find that it is what
you don't see and have to imagine that is more erotic than what you
see. It is something I am trying to get better at in my own work.
William writes on Holly's MySpace:
I really think you should expand this blog into a novella. It has
a timeless, tragic poignance that underscores the callous destruction
wrought by gardeners all across the country. It speaks to the soul
of America. I can already see a film version! Kim Stanley narrates
as a young Holly Randall -portrayed by Mary Badham's neotonous clone-
surveys the nightmare of mangled limbs littering her once beautiful
Holly writes on MySpace Dec
Why the hell is there Christmas music playing on Boxing day? (And
if you don't know what Boxing Day is, you're way too American). I
always find the day after Christmas to be really depressing-- the
Christmas tree empty of packages, the lights twinkling pathetically,
a testament to how wonderful the past was, and how sad the present
is. I always feel a great sense of loss on the 26th-- for me, the
year ends today, not on the 31st. I remember when I was younger I
couldn't wait to get older, and now the passage of time feels really
painful. (Insert violins here)
Holly Randall writes:
We get a lot of controversy on Suze.net about this -- we do a lot
of smoking photos, and some members are crazy for it, some aren't.
I have some smoking video, but very little. Unless one has a fetish
for it, it's a big turn off to most.
I personally hate cigarettes, but I do think visually they can work
at times. I point out to the members that all the girls in the smoking
shots actually smoke in real life.
> Why do you hate cigarettes?
Because they smell awful and they make me want to gag. They are a
big reason I can't go out to clubs in Vegas for long periods of time--
the smoke in the air just kills me.
Well I started smoking experimentally at about the age of 13. Then
when I turned 18 I made a conscious decision to put an end to my habit.
I was never totally addicted, it became more of an oral fixation than
anything else. So I started chewing toothpicks constantly-- that really
helped. I didn't quit cold turkey, but by the time I was 20 the habit
was gone. I still smoked every once in a while (like twice a month
if I was out at a party) but as I began to do it less and less, every
time I did light up it became more distasteful to me. Now I can't
even be around them. About once every 2 years, if I'm feeling compulsive,
I'll have a couple of drags of someone else's. Then I'll feel sick
for about 45 minutes. That's enough to remind me why I don't smoke.
I can honestly say I will never smoke an entire cigarette again in
Holly: "Did Mary Carey
realize she named herself after Mary
Boleyn (the sister of Anne, the mistress of Henry VIII of England and
the mother of Queen Elizabeth), who married William Carey? Did Mary
Carey know the historical reference?"
Luke: "What does Holly think about the crystal meth death look?"
Holly: "Pfff. I think it's hot.
"One of the tricks we have (and we don't really photoshop our
images unless they need them) is that we use fabric to hide girl's bellies
if they get rolls. It's disturbing when you have to use the fabric to
cover people's ribs.
"I don't like to shoot girls who are too skinny. I told Kelsey
Michaels to gain weight before we could shoot her. I don't think
she's a speed freak. I just think she's naturally skinny."
Luke: "Can you think of anyone in the business who likes to shoot
the crystal meth death look?"
"I understand the reference to today's celebrities. But first,
that look is unattractive. Second, you don't see these celebrities naked.
When you get a girl naked in front of a camera doing all these weird
positions... I think it's better for a girl to be a little overweight
than a little underweight."
Luke: "Can you think of any producers who feed the girls speed
to get them skinny?"
Holly: "No. That's a ridiculous claim. When you're on speed...
I don't know. I've never been on hard drugs for long. I have a friend
who was hooked on speed for years. At first, your sex drive is up. Then
Christmas at the Randalls
Holly Randall writes
On Christmas Eve, I had gotten a copy of Adam's Film World through
a friend of mine, and without telling me why he'd marked a certain
page in the magazine. It was an article about "The Other Hollywood,"
a book that quoted both my mother and my father. I casually scanned
the page and to my horror there was a large photo of my mom on the
street next to some people with picket signs, a wicked gleam in her
eye and a mischievous expression for the camera. Oh, and she had picked
up her skirt, and was flashing the photographer. And she had no underwear
on. "Ack!" I exclaimed as I slammed the magazine shut. Curious, my
father asked for the mag. When he saw the picture, he got a dreamy
look in his eyes. "Those were the days..." he sighed. This photo was
apparently taken way back when (whether or not it was before I was
born or shortly after we're not sure, though I'd like to think it
was before), and it marked a religious right protest being staged
at an adult convention. Being the troublemaker that she was (and still
is) Suze followed the protesters, flashing them her privates and basically
shocking everyone there. Apparently Al Goldstein was pissed because
she took all the attention away from him. Funny thing, that an attractive
woman flashing the crowd vs. a fat angry guy-- who are YOU going to
pay more attention to?
My brother came downstairs shortly after, and without offering an
explanation, I gave him the magazine and waited for him to find the
picture. It took a while, but as I watched his face the change of
expression from mildly interested to suddenly horrified I knew he'd
found the picture. And like me, he immediately slammed the magazine
shut and gave me a dirty look as he handed it back.
"Thanks a lot," he said.
"Hey man," I replied. "If I have to see it, so do you."
This of course led to more reminiscing. My parents had just seen
a photo of them from the early 70s at the Wet Dreams festival in Amsterdam.
"What a handsome devil I was," my dad has said repeatedly since he
saw this photo. "I don't know what you're talking about Humphry,"
my mom countered. "You were wearing this ridiculous outfit-- that
jacket-- all I can say is you cannot make fun of the fact that your
youngest daughter (not me) is dating a guy who dresses like a pirate.
I of course looked exquisite, made me feel much better!" This argument
between my parents over who was better looking in their youth can
only be overshadowed by their fond memories of the orgies at this
festival. Now that is a trip down memory lane I can do without.
Meet The Parents
I meet Holly Randall's
parents Saturday night at their annual New Year's Eve party (running
for about eight years, the one year the Randalls were in South Africa,
people showed up to their house anyway on New Year's).
I'm going to make the long drive to Brokeback Mountain to find their
pornographic candle shining on the hill.
I'm not sure my van is going to make it to the top.
I call Holly at 3:30pm. "Some chick from Spanish Playboy wants
to interview me. I didn't know Playboy had a Spanish edition.
"I told her I was in Best Buy now and shouldn't be answering her
"I took the day off work to run errands.
"Of course you can come to the New Year's party."
Luke: "What if I get drunk and cause a scene?"
Holly: "Somehow, I don't think that will happen. I trust you."
Luke: "I'm not imposing myself on this."
Holly: "No. We've been having the party for years and it has gotten
to the point where I don't invite anybody. Everybody knows and they
just come. You can come."
Holly calls me back at 6:19pm Thursday and gives me elaborate directions.
Knowing that Holly's parents have heard for the past two months ten
horrible things about me for every good thing, I ask: "Are you
sure your parents are going to be ok with me coming?"
Holly: "Yes. I told them specifically that you were coming."
Luke: "I picture myself walking half-a-mile straight up your hill
only to get punched out by your mom."
Holly: "She'll be perfectly charming. She said to me, 'Darling,
I don't know him. I've heard bad things about him but who knows if they
are true. If you like him, that's enough for me.'
said something interesting to me the other night. I had mentioned your
name a while ago and he'd made no indication that he knew you. Then,
the other night he said, 'Holly, I know all about him. I knew all about
him before you ever heard of him.'"
Luke Must Comport Himself at the Randalls Tonight
Chaim "Liberal Upper West Side Jew" Amalek writes to Luke:
According to the calendar of the goyim, this is the last day of the
year, and as good a time as any for taking stock and looking at what
comes next. We cannot be certain of anything in life but the passage
of time. And what a time 2006 will be for you! In May you turn 40, and
at that instant, you will cease to be welcome at the Friday Night Live
Jewish singles events you are fond of attending. Already they have been
posting sentinels against your presence, preparing for that day in May
when you cross over to the other side, lose your boyish charm and officially
enter the ranks of creepy old men trolling for the young flesh of the
Jewess. (True, most of those Jewesses are not that young - only the
demographically doomed can regard a 36 year old spinster as "young,"
but that's for another post.)
And yet hope still exists. God, Jehovah, Jesus, or the learned elders
of Zion have chosen to place in your social path a young, fertile, sexually
desirable woman who is every sane man's dream. Moreover, unlike the
Semitic women of your community, she is a woman to whom neither explanation
nor apology for what you do to support yourself is necessary. A woman
who is tolerant of your economic status and who, since childhood, has
been raised by the example of her mother to think that supporting a
husband is what a woman is supposed to do. (Is this not evocative of
a practice within our own community? For centuries, the most desirable
daughters of the well to do were mated to promising scholars of the
Talmud and expected to support them while they sat on their seats, doing
intellectually demanding work.)
Of course I'm speaking of Polly Randall, who has telegraphed her interest
in you many times, even after you have almost queered the deal by responding
to her womanly charms with unmanly displays of low self esteem. That
won't do here. To win Polly, you must be a man, for only a man is worthy
of a woman such as her.
This evening you will attend a New Year's Eve party at the Randalls,
where you will meet Polly's mother Vickie and her father Humpbert. She's
introducing you to them because like any dutiful daughter, she wants
their approval before permitting you to make any future inroads into
her heart. She wants you to make the right moves, and with my help you
will - I've got it all worked out.
The key to this evening is not Polly (you are already under her skin),
nor her mother, but her father, Humpbert. He is one of the scattered
remnants of a defeated tribe - White Boers of South Africa - who themselves
belong to a race that is losing the battle for global dominance. During
the course of your initial conversations with him, move the discussion
over to this general topic, and frame the issue with strict, Jobotinsky
style arguments developed for Zionism, but adapted to the current needs
of the White Race. This will bring a look of hope and wonder to his
eyes, as he begins to see within you the man his people needed, but
never could produce.
The next step is to plant within his Boer mind the thought that the
choice for his daughter is either you, with your sturdy Aussie genes,
or - who knows? A Mexican? A ne'er-do-well married jerk? An arab with
two other wives who is looking for a third?
This brings us to the most critical social maneuver of the evening.
But for this to work, you will need the help of a complicit negro, and
I'm afraid that much like most Hollywood Lifestyle Liberals, these Polly's
parents might not have any friends of color with whom they socialize.
So perhaps you should invite a few of your own to show up, like that
nice Mister Marcus, or perhaps Lexington Steele. Cue them in so that
they know what you are up to. It is sad to have to appeal to racial
feelings to win over a woman, but all is fair in love and war. Just
make sure that you have a black friend there by whatever means necessary.
I want this man to be a large buck, and I want him to make the moves
on Polly in full view of Humpbert, say by stroking her rear. All the
while you will be standing behind his rear in a sexually dominant pose,
tsk tsking this spectacle in a manner that Humpbert can see. Then you
interpose yourself between sweet young white Holly and the Negro, extricating
her from a situation pregnant with the possibilities of miscegenation,
again so that her father can see. He will get the message: if Polly
does not marry Luke, then perhaps his grandkids will look like Robert
Mugabe. Luke offers his genes safe harbor.
Spend the middle of the evening playing the role of social butterfly,
but return some time later to Humpbert to discuss the life of the writer.
Before the evening is over, he will embrace you in a bear hug and think
"This is just the sort of bloke I'd like my daughter to marry." Oh,
that Vickie might have a smart-ass thing or two to say otherwise, as
she is heavily into porn, but Humpbert will shoot her a look that says
"Woman, you WILL respect my judgment in these matters."
You two are meant to be together, notwithstanding all the lawyerly arguments
each of you can concoct as to why it wouldn't work. Some things are
just supposed to be
This might well be the last New Year for both the single Luke and the
single Polly. Next year will see Luke living large in his wife's home,
the lovely Mrs. Holly Randall-Ford, wife of Los Angeles writer and Journalist
Luke. And who knows - by this time next year, you might both be celebrating
the New Year at home, with the infant Luke Amalek Ford nursing at your
Chaim writes me:
The only men Holly introduces to her parents are those she regards
as boyfriend material. Tonight is your debut. She may be your last
best hope for happiness in life. Lord knows you've been dating long
enough and have otherwise had enough chances. You need to get serious
about life. Settle down, marry, have kids, and spend your days like
a true scholar, writing while Holly lubes up the porn chicks for money.
How many men are lucky enough to have a wife who is lubing up a porn
chick? Plus you get to live in that primo house. She's not perfect,
but you can live with the woman she will become once she marries you
and starts raising a family with you. Remember, in 2006 you turn forty,
which places you out of bounds for most fertile jewesses. Holly can
save you from being viewed as a creepy old man. Besides, you will
enjoy shooting the breeze with Humphry.
You sons of the southern cross.
She's got a life force to her that I never, ever see in NY. It is
Remember, on a very profound, fundamental level, she has already
chosen you. Luke, she is having.... She is what, the age that her
mother was when she married? She wants a husband. She likes writers.
You want a wife. You write. And you both are in the same business.
Just consider the lame losers she otherwise dates. Guys who do drugs.
Guys who are not there for her. She knows that if she can snag you,
you will be there for her forever. Her eggs are in command. They have
selected you to be their dad. Not the married dude. Not some guy in
a garage band. Not some illiterate. Next to the men she interacts
with on a daily basis, you are the bee's knees. She picked you. And
having seen how weird you can be, she still has your toothbrush in
her bathroom. And this evening is to present you to her parents, to
get their seal of approval. Her dad will love you. And he's the one
you need to win over. I am counting on you to begin the New Year inside
Holly. With her mom and dad looking on smilingly, her mom perhaps
videotaping the whole thing.
'Shouldn't you be getting ready to head to Holly's
Fran: What are you wearing?
Fran: I really liked what you wore at the Vegas party.
Luke: jeans, sweater,
Fran: I like your suit better
Fran: Is that suit custom tailored? It makes you look so posh
Fran: I really thought you were rolling in $$$ when I saw you in it
Fran: I thought, "Gee, I'll bet he lives in Century City."
Fran: Are you taking a gift to the party?
Luke: No. New Year's gifts? Never heard of that.
Fran: Well, you are meeting her parents for the first time. Don't you
want to make a good impression?
Luke: I was invited at the last minute as an afterthought. If it was
a big deal, I would've been invited in advance. I'm just going for the
Fran: Oh. You're going to write about it? Did you ask Holly if its ok?
Fran: Has she asked you about the sex stuff that you post on your blog
Luke: she reads it, but has a thick skin
Fran: impressively thick. I was shocked that you were so explicit.
Fran: Are you staying with her overnight?
Fran: Did you ask her?
Fran: You could try to seduce her with some roses?
Fran: Women want romance, Luke.
Luke: She likes to be in charge and make these decisions.
Fran: You should watch Oxygen and Lifetime Network.. you could learn
about how to woo a woman.
Welcomes In The New Year With A Man She Values
(Suze.net webmistress), Holly Amber,
Hollywood director Zev Berman, Melissa from Pleasurechest.com Suze
Randall with her youngest child Lucy Lucy,
Penthouse Pet Crystal Klein Suze,
with her ex-boyfriend Brian and his wife Rosie Holly,
Rosie, Brian Crystal,
Holly, Rosie, Brian Crystal,
Holly, Rosie Crystal,
Holly, Rosie Holly
and Rich (Crystal Klein's fiancee) Holly,
gets a refill on champagne Holly
hoists champagne Brooke
Haven, Holly Brooke,
and her dad Humphry Knipe Holly,
Suze, Jackie Suze
with her son Nick and his girlfriend Jackie Nick,
Suze, Jackie Nick,
Thursday, Dec 29. 9am. A friend IMs me. "Are you coming to Holly's
party Saturday? You guys are so right for each other. I can't wait to
see you in action."
"That's the first I've heard about it," I reply. "So
I guess not."
I email Holly the first sentence of the IM I received. Six hours later,
she calls me back. "Of course you can come, darling. It's an annual
party. We don't even bother to send out invites. I forgot to tell you."
Saturday it rains, sometimes hard. I figure I'll skip the party.
Saturday night, the rain ends. I call Holly for the zip code of her
She's distracted. She obviously has one hundred things on her mind
aside from talking to me. But she eventually gives me the zip code and
I use Yahoo maps as a complement to her explicit directions from Friday.
I start my drive tailed by two police cars (I check my pocket and realize
I've left my wallet at home). Then they drop away. The 45-minute drive
is smooth and sweet. I arrive at the home of Holly's parents at 9pm.
I park on the road and walk the third-of-a-mile uphill. A fancy import
in front of me spins its wheels madly as it tries to mount the final
As I approach the house, a tractor comes down the hill and though I
scrunch to the side into the bushes as much as I can, there's still
only a foot between its blade and me. I feel like the driver is toying
The tractor stops beside me.
"Are you Luke?" asks Suze.
"You're the smart one parking down on the road.
"Go upstairs and say hi to Holly. She's curling her hair. Go right
"I'm going to grade the driveway one more time."
I walk in the house and introduce myself to Holly's father Humphry
"Hi," he says.
"Where can I get a drink?" I ask.
"Around the corner."
I round the corner. The bartender tells me if I want water, it's around
I round that corner, see nothing, then round another corner outside.
"Where could I find some water?"
"What type of water?" he asks.
"Regular flat water."
"Just round the corner inside."
I retrace my footsteps and find the water cooler. I have a stiff drink
of flat water and then sit down in a corner in the livingroom.
Ten minutes go by. I kick myself for not wearing a belt so that my
jeans would be tight enough to hold Ask
Albert Ellis? Straight Answers and Sound Advice from America's Best-Known
Psychologist against my bum for easy access in times of boredom
I look around the room and see no books.
Amber (Suze.net webmistress, she started the site in 1996) is the
first person to really talk to me. The poor girl has taken a whipping
on my site over the past couple of weeks (none of it directed by me
at her, just my quoting webmasters annoyed and disgusted with the suze.net
"You're the one who told Holly that because I like the Dallas
Cowboys, I must be a fag."
"That wasn't me," lies Amber.
She's sweet. She's kind. She's beautiful. She makes me feel at home.
Eventually Holly (holding a nearly-empty beer bottle) comes down and
welcomes me. She's stoned (she began the day smoking marijuana resin,
all that was left in her pipe, it's much stronger than regular grass,
and the friend she shared it with is still knocked out twelve hours
later with a ringing headache) and drunk and dressed like a hooker.
I love that.
Luke: "Who did you give bad pot to?"
Holly: "Today? We smoked some resin. I told her this is all I've
got. If you want some, you can smoke some."
What I love even more is to watch her spending the evening exchanging
caresses with the dozen or so men at the party that she's fucked.
But this is not to say that she does not make distinctions. It's most
important for her to be with her ex-boyfriend
and coworker Chris. She needs to repeatedly hold on to him right
in front of me. She needs to repeatedly break away from talking to me
to drape herself over him and whisper in his ear. I love that because
they were so wonderful when they were a couple. Nary an unkind word
or thoughtless action.
If the only pictures I got to see of Holly locked in embrace with ex-boyfriends
(ones I repeatedly asked her to take down) were the ones in Holly's
house and on her website, that would not be enough. I need to see it
repeatedly in my face. That way I get the full effect and I realize
how much I mean to her and how clearly she wants to communicate that
During my sum total of 15-minutes with Holly, her mind is elsewhere.
There are a hundred things and people at the party more important to
her than me. The legs to the fire grill rate about a nine on her 1-10
scale of importance (ten being of premium importance). Getting refills
of champagne is a ten for her. I feel that I rate about a two (along
with the starving in Africa). The only time I can sustain her attention
is when I aim the camera at her (or when she's reviewing her pictures
in my viewfinder).
I spend most of my night talking to Holly's parents. I
give them a brief sketch of my first eleven years.
They're every bit as charming as Holly promised they would be.
Holly told me when I first met her that her mom had eternally repented
for writing her 1977 174-page memoir Suze
because it burned so many bridges, particularly to Hugh Hefner and Playboy.
Suze tells me she has no regrets about the book. Humphry
says he'll happily get me a copy of it (and of his first book Pecking
Order). I've been asking Holly to come up with them since I met her.
She never has.
ambivalent about the burned bridges the book Suze created. He misses
the weekly visits to the Playboy mansion. But he's glad helped build
a bridge to Larry Flynt.
If I were to accept everything Holly's parents tell me as 100% true,
then much of what Holly's told me about them is not true. Someone somewhere
has flawed perceptions.
Porn is like a family. When we have better information about each other,
we can make better decisions. Author Stephen Fried argues that every
family would benefit from having a skilled journalist come in, get everyone's
stories, fact-check them, and then lay out the facts. People often hate
each other and refuse to talk to each other over false stories.
Meeting Holly's parents has made all the difference in my understanding
of them and of her.
Knipe is working on a fascinating and controversial new novel about
Suze does not like to read Humphry's
work in progress and is afraid to offer any critique of it.
I largely talk to Humphry
about writing. I tell him about rereading my late mother's book Fireside
"That's why you're so fucked up," he says. "Religion
and losing your mother."
that in the age of nuclear weapons and terrorism, religion could kill
us all. He praises the recent book by Sam Harris, The
End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the Future of Reason.
I heard Harris
demolished on Dennis Prager's radio show (August 16, 2004). It wasn't
fair. Prager already knew all of Harris's arguments but poor Sam hadn't
thought about Prager's challenges. Sam thought it had done so poorly
in the debate, he asked Prager to come back on the show when he was
I ask Humphry
what percentage of people can live happily without religion.
"That's a good question," he says. He admits that many, maybe
most, would not be able to do without it.
"They will seek substitute religions," I say, thinking of
communism and Nazism which replaced Christianity as leading ideologies
in Europe in the 20th Century. Those ideologies, based on hatred of
God and religion, slaughtered far more people (over 100 million within
40 years) than all religious wars and persecutions in all of history
"Sam lays out a framework for a secular humanist approach to life,"
"but I only skimmed over it."
"That sort of stuff will only appeal to a tiny number of intellectuals,"
I reply. "It's not a rubric for ordinary people to lead a meaningful
and happy life."
"I'm happy without religion," says Humphry.
He says that he was motivated to write his Nero
novel because he wanted to show the stupidity of religion.
"You regard astrology
as a religion?"
"Yes. It is based on faith. There is no evidence for it."
"Does astrology have a moral code?"
"I've always thought of astrology as a pagan nature religion.
I was disappointed that your book didn't link Christianity
to its roots in Gnosticism and the pagan mystery religions. While
the Christians took the Jewish Bible, all their uniquely Christian beliefs
such as a god coming to earth and becoming man who dies for our sins
and we can have eternal life if we eat his flesh and drink his blood,
these beliefs are all Hellenic paganism."
Humphry repeatedly introduces me as the "famous internet scourge
of the Adult industry."
the tone of my writing as "vitriolic."
He merits 75-words
in Wikipedia, even though his first book, The Dominant Man, was translated
into five languages.
Suze Randall gets
291 words, and Holly
Randall 125 words.
People must care more about porn than ideas.
Brooke Haven is recovering from a nasty flu. She comes to the party
with Derek of LADM.
I meet Holly's ex-boyfriend Zev
Berman, the Hollywood director, who comes with busty blonde publicist
Melissa (she does a show on KSEXRadio.com every Tuesday called Baadmasters’
Dungeon) from thePleasureChest.com.
"Did you come here to get blackmail pictures?" Holly asks
"I already have all blackmail pictures I need," he laughs.
"Tell me more," I say.
"No," says Holly, looking guilty. "Let's not go there."
I meet Holly's ex-boyfriend XXX, an author, with his beautiful young
At 11:45pm, I walk around the party until I find Holly by the bar.
She's got a full eight-ounce cup of vodka (with a little cranberry juice).
I want to give things one last chance. Why go away mad when you can
go away glad?
"Aren't you violating the rule you told me about Friday [she was
painfully hungover on a week during which she had resolved not to drink,
we went to breakfast]?" I ask. "That you should never have
more than two types of alcohol drinks in a night?"
"Since when do I follow the rules?" she says.
As the crowd counts down the seconds to the new year, Holly and I lean
against each other. She pulls out her camera.
She must want a picture of us bringing in the new year. She wants me.
She wants to treasure me as I treasure her. She wants a picture of us
to place in frames around her home instead of those of the 40 or so
men who proceeded me into her.
But I'm wrong. She has no interest in me. She's not taken a picture
of me all night. She wants a picture with Chris.
As we enter 2006, I turn to Holly to kiss her for the first time in
three weeks, but I only see her back leaping in the air.
She wants to spend this precious time with someone she values.
Jumping from her seat, Holly hurls herself into Chris's arms and gives
him a passionate kiss on the lips.
I turn away and leave her in the arms of people who want to fuck her.
If you are curious why Holly acts the way she does, you might want
to research the term "love
It's a cold and lonely 15-minute walk through the mud to my car. Midway
down, I open up my zipper and take a long leak good-bye.
I arrive home at 1am and get on my computer.
Then I look down. I've tracked Holly's mud into my hovel. I vacuum
and scrub but I can't get rid of the filth.
Her mud is all over my hovel, all over my shoes and jeans, and all
over my life. It's time for a massive housecleaning. A New Year means
a new beginning. I never make New Year's resolution, but this year I
make one to clean the mud out of my life.
With the wisdom of hindsight, I now realize I should've stuck around
so that I could've gotten in line and tasted Chris (and her other lovers)
on Holly's lips. She did call my home at 12:24pm to say that she wanted
to kiss me (along with about 20 other guys I'm sure).
What a glorious sensation it would've been to have tasted those drunken
men on her mouth and breathe in their smell on her body.
With a few more drinks, I bet Chris, Holly and I could've smoothed
our differences with a double-anal scene videotaped by her parents and
lit by her siblings.
Just by hanging with Holly, I can feel what it's like to be banged
by 40 guys.
Until Saturday night, I mainly saw Holly's previous lovers laid out
on her refrigerator (and in frames in almost every room of her house,
including the bedroom), on her website, and sometimes at parties (or
those who just unexpectedly walk into her home when I'm with her, I
guess they've been granted that right).
Now I've met a dozen of them in one night and gotten to see her do
everything with them short of opening up an orifice and bringing them
inside. I love that. I love how it makes me feel. I love dating and
sleeping around. It's such a wonderful preparation for a lasting marriage.
Thanks to the miracle of the Internet, we can all enjoy the handsome
visages of Holly's ex-boyfriends. It makes a man feel so special when
he sees daily reminders of his girl's ex-lovers and gets to constantly
hear about how much they mean to her (how she's canceling a snowboarding
trip to host a birthday party for a boyfriend from seven years ago).
Though many people break up in anger, that is not true with Holly and
I. Though twelve years my junior, she has taught me to not look back
in anger, but in love.
Thus, it is with love in my heart that I lay out the following photo
gallery that I've been forced to constantly confront since I met Holly,
and visited her home and website. She's a special girl to be able to
maintain such an intimate connection with so many men. (When
I contemplate the wonder that even I rate a couple of pictures and a
link, my heart swells with pride that I was such a special notch on
Some people might read sarcasm into my commentary. They should not.
Holly is the sweetest girl. She never did anything bad to me. That I
was not more important to her is my problem, not her's. That I have
had no appetite since DEC 11 is my problem, not her's. That I am a basketcase
right now is my fault, not her's. Holly was only good to me. My problem
was that I wanted more than she could give. I was not content with sloppy
seconds, with tasting Chris's kiss on her lips. If only I wasn't so
homophobic, I could've joined the gangbang fun.
Holly and Chris
Holly and her ex-boyfriend Zev.
Thomas Rifter (Chris) and Holly.
Holly with best-friend Angie and Thomas Rifter (Chris)
For too long, I have been afraid that I am the only person who truly
appreciates these photos. Now it gives me great joy to share them with
had a heart -- how shall I say? -- too soon made glad, too easily impressed;
she liked whatever she looked on, and her looks went everywhere. It
was all one! My favor at her breast, the dropping of the daylight in
the West, a bar tender, a movie director, a journalist, a professor,
a dom. Each drew from her alike the approving speech, the blush, the
She thanked men, -- good! but thanked somehow -- I know not how --
as if she ranked me with any other man. Who'd stoop to blame this sort
of trifling? Even had you skill in speech -- (which I have not) -- to
make your will quite clear to such a one, and say, "Just this or that
in you disgusts me; here you miss, or there exceed the mark" -- and
if she let herself be reproved, there would be some stooping, and I
choose never to stoop.
She smiled, no doubt, whenever I with her; but who was with her without
much the same smile?
Amalek was wrong! In hindsight, Holly did not invite you over to
her party to introduce you to her parents. You were invited because
she wanted to make a point, and it appears she made sure you got the
message. The good news is that what you feel now (well-written by
the way) is as bad as it gets. In men, the emotions and hurt typically
wear off quickly from here on.
You are getting suggestions from all over. It is amazing how everybody
is trying to help you make it with Holly...but dude, the fact that
you did not get an advance invitation to her New Year's Party is not
a promising sign - even though you both seem perfectly matched. You
may have to surrender and retreat here. It's been interesting to watch
your intense withdrawal symptoms though. If Holly actually reads your
site she must realize what effect she has had on you. I think she
knows she has turned your head. Women can sense stuff like that.
Fred emails me questions and Amalek answers them for me:
1. Luke, do you think that the ex-boyfriends still have feelings (beyond
mere friendship) for Holly?
1. Yes, they enjoyed having sex with her and likely would have sex
with her again were the opportunity to present itself. In time, that
will go for Luke, too.
2. Do you think Holly still has feelings (beyond mere friendship) for
2. Yes, she both liked having sex with them and she likes them as friends.
3. Do you think Holly derives any pleasure from putting all the ex-boyfriends
in one room and watch as she gives attention to this one or that, with
the possibility/likelihood of leaving at least a few of them in a state
3. Yes, as would we all.
4. Is the problem here that you are possessive of something you don't
possess? Or that she is callous?
4. The problem was that Luke had far more emotional committment to
Holly than she ever had to him, a dismal state of affairs that he telegraphed
by being the first to issue a declaration of love in this affair. The
problem was compounded by Holly's intoxication, the presence of numerous
stimuli, and Luke's sensitive nature.
Arab writes in the Monkey Cage: (The
I'd just like to open a neutral and open thread to discuss general
impressions of Holly's savage
destruction of Luke's gentle Jewish spirit.
My thoughts: while I am not a hadith scholar myself, like the scions
of all prominent Gulf families we keep a few on the payroll to protect
us from winding up a smeared bloodstain on the wall when things get
rough, so if you want to work out a fatwa for this vile display, hit
me with a PM.
Also, while I could see how a chica could get creeped out by Luke's
posting psychosis of every painful detail of his relationship, we're
somewhat in the dark about the ins and outs (um... pun intended).
Luke exposes all of the cringeworthy parts of a relationship but leaves
everything beautiful out of it. It's a disturbing habit, comrade.
Is Joanna still around?
JamesN writes: "If the devotees really needed a hint
of what was to commit was written weeks ago when Luke was asking for a
place to stay in Vegas. If your girlfriend is some nominated directress,
why would you be begging for a couch to crash on?"
Smiling Arab writes: "I believe we should hear Holly's
side of why destroying Luke in public was better than doing so in private.
I'm keeping an open mind here."
Willie D writes:
Unless your marital life is preordained by your caste or familial
status or religious convictions, you will eventually be dumped by
the one you believe is "the one." The one with that unmistakable ability
to finish your sentences for your, and vice versa. As Luke has already
written, this starts with a sense of disbelief and some token act
of rebellion, followed by a strong desire to rid himself of any and
all references to the woman in question, followed by a gut-wrenching
acknowledgment that, for a brief moment, you let down your guard which
has kept you relatively safe on this planet heretofore, only to get
stabbed in the testicles by the anti-Cupid. It hardens the psyche.
Luke, my advice to you: keep taking pictures. Throw yourself back
into your work. Just keep showing up and snapping the photos which
are the lymphatic system of this here Cage. Sit back and let us caption
those photos in a manner which will bring a smile to your face.
Some music a little stronger than Air Supply will also help to vent
some anger and frustration. I'd personally suggest The Phunk Junkeez,
Helmet, and Agnostic Front. And for G-d's sake, stay away from anything
by Peter Gabriel.
Ivor Biggun writes:
I'm inclined to suspect wrong-headed game-play over deliberate malice.
Holly isn't stupid. She must have had some idea of how her behavior
would inflame Luke's possessive instincts, but (maybe I'm wrong) I
don't read her as a bitch who would deliberately rub it in for no
Smiling Arab writes:
Holly isn't stupid, Ivor, you're quite correct, but there is an element
of cultivated frivolity about her. Break those two words down and
juxtapose them, as I can't express it any better. And those are the
most dangerous to the sensitive Jewish soul, which craves transcendence,
as the Other constantly reminds herself that nothing matters.
Ivor writes: "I can't do that without the word "conniving" entering
my head. And my more tolerant (naive?) part prefers not to believe that.
Willie D writes: "The anger is seeping more into his writing.
This was much more plaintive when I woke from my New Year's coma at
7:17 a.m. and first read it."
Smiling Arab writes: "I'm genuinely frightened by the changes
I've noted. I only pulled this up a few hours ago, but from the time
I offered my services as a fatwa pimp until now it's been altered in
the most peculiar manner, with decidedly more bitterness coming through,
“Jesus, only Luke could feel threatened by those champs.”
That was my first thought when I finished Luke’s recap. Most of Holly’s
ex-boyfriends look like card-carrying members of the Nerd Brigade.
The Randall Party was destined to be a soul-crushing experience for
Luke. Being an intelligent person, he should have seen this coming.
Drugs, alcohol, ex-boyfriends, New Years -- he‘s lucky a Violation
of Holly Randall wasn’t already in full swing by the time he arrived.
But let’s take this back to the beginning.
Even if you disregard that Holly forgot to invite him (and that would
be a very difficult thing to disregard), he should have known going
to that party would be like walking through a landmine zone with magnets
in his boots -- he was bound to get hit in every direction by the
one thing he’s been trying to avoid. His concern about her former
lovers should have been addressed before the party. If Holly’s response
was anything short of accommodating, he should never have gone.
But that's not what happened. Luke went, and now he’s going to suffer
for some time.
Luke, If I have anything positive to offer you it's this: You have
every right to be upset. I don't know what "stage" your relationship
with Holly was at, but her behavior was immature and classless, regardless.
Playing grab-ass with men who at one time had their penises in her,
in view of you, is just a s----move from any perspective.
As your self-appointed spiritual counselor, I demand you binge on
prescription pills and hard alcohol (that would be a lite beer for
you) and nail random floozies up till and during AVN. Aggressive,
inebriated sex is the only way to fill the void left by Holly.
I reply on XPT:
Holly did not do anything bad to me. She was just Holly. She was
always nice and well-meaning and sounded apologetic if I was ever
upset. She was often there for me when I was sick. She has a lot of
things/people/ex-BFs/guys in her life that are more important to her
than I am, and in the end, I could not accept that. I could not accept
her for who she is (as much as I've tried over the past month). In
the end, she's a burning house I must run from.
My desire was that when we were together, I would be the most important
thing to her in the universe during those times (unless there was
some pressing matter which I hoped she'd explain to me). I haven't
gotten this wound up over a relationship in about a decade. Somehow
certain people just get to you and your rational thinking is overwhelmed
by other desires.
Holly did not do anything bad to me Saturday night. There was no
moral imperative for her to hang out with me and exclude other guys
from her affections. There was no moral imperative for her to kiss
me as the New Year began.
She's always had other priorities above being with me. I've been
someone she fit in at the times she felt like it and I went along
with this like a good little whipped puppy dog. I accepted that I
served at her convenience. As she paid for all our dates, as she paid
for the piper, she selected the tune and I danced to it until five
seconds into Jan 1.
Holly Randall posts:
I'm sorry. I have this horrible thing called a conscience, and it's
bothering me right now. Luke, you know I never meant to hurt you.
I don't like to hurt anyone. Yes, I have a lot of ex-boyfriends. And
I am friends with them all. Did you not notice they brought their
girlfriends? Chris and I broke up 7 years ago. He knows me better
than anyone, and we still work together. You will see me with him
in Vegas. He is one of my best friends. I don't know what else to
say; I won't rehash my personal issues on a chatboard, but many things
you said about me were true. I am very selfish, and I should have
behaved better. Again, I apologize. I think that's all I can do at
Khunrum writes: "I'll wager Luke wasn't as hurt as he claims after
being romantically shunted aside at Holly's holiday gathering. After
all, there was good food, plenty of bottled water, copy for the site
and lively dialogue with her father who flattered our boy."
How Do You Handle a Girl Like Holly?
Chaim Amalek writes:
This was a big win for all concerned - you AND Holly, as well as
mean, prior to your involvement with her, I had never heard of Holly
or her mother, and how many books had old Humphry
been selling over the last thirty years?
[Khunrum writes: "I believe his efforts must be languishing
in the basement along with Luke's Producer and Jewish output. Perhaps
they could team up -- Buy-One-Get-One-Free. Purchase one of Hump's
and we'll toss in a free Producer's libro."]
You need to put yourself into similar situations far more frequently
than you have to unleash the old, pre-medication Luke who made porners
tremble with fear.
Next step: You date Holly's sister, and get her to clean up her act
and fly straight. She
looks like she is in need of some Torah in her life.
Cool the wounded Romeo bit and keep pimpin' her site. You stay in
her good graces. You stay on her Rolodex. You'll be joining Holly
and Chris in a DP soon enough.
BTW I noticed a shocking resemblence between Holly and the late Dana
She doesn't know a dreydel froma butt-plug. She paid for dinner.
You...her. You got some good copy. That's what I call a Hat Trick.
Chaim writes: "Robert speaks wisdom. You are coming off as too
needy in all this Luke, so now is the time to cool it and maybe even
start praising Holly's work on your web site. But not too much - just
here and there, in dribs and drabs. Make her jump for the occasional
biscuit. She is to be cultivated.
"Confucian women are better adapted to marry, have kids than are
the average secular LA caucasoidal woman. Years of eating kittens and
rats during days of famine have taught them the value of a good man.
Just don't take this woman to a pet shop or the pound."
At 1am Sunday, just after arriving home, I emailed Holly, in part:
"I'm so glad that you got to begin the new year in the embrace
of someone you care about. It's obviously not me."
I realize that you are furious with me. If it matters at all, I felt
terrible when you left, and I didn't really have a good time after
that. Call me what you want. Call me a slut, call me a bitch, go ahead
and hate me. But know I do care for you. And I feel awful.
Sorry I'm not perfect. Exactly what did you expect from me, by the
way? I am NOT the perfect Jewish wife you have been looking for, but
I do have a heart. And it hurts. In the end, you do have my respect.
No matter what you think of me, I will be there for you if you ask.
Hate me if that makes you feel better. But I don't hate you.
After I got up later Sunday morning and huffily told Holly that I never
wanted to see her again, I later sent her a two-page 15-point bulletin
on how she must change if she is to have the privilege of my company.
Luke, I never asked you to change. I accepted you for who you are.
I will also never change. If you cannot accept me for who I am, well
then we hit a dead end. But I don't want to fight, I really, really
don't. I don't have enough hate in my heart to do so.
I'm a nice girl as long as you don't fall in love with me. Then I'm
a monster. I'm sorry you hurt so much. But remember, I never wanted
a boyfriend... and there is a reason for that.
You are right, I do need to grow up, but not now. Not on New Years
Eve. This year, yes. But it was my party, and I will dress and act
as I like.
Damn, that was clear. Why hadn't I seen her point of view?
Wreaks Its Toll