Another article I wrote... this one is more on a funny note than a sad one-- Jenna Jameson's bday/launch party. Read it if you care... HOLLYWOOD - When invited to Jenna Jameson's birthday party, it's not easy to say no. While the bash at El Centro's Club was also to celebrate the recent Club Jenna contract starlets (Krystal Steal, McKenzie Lee, Jesse Capelli, Sophia Rossi and Ashton Moore), the evening all began with my tits. My boyfriend recently insisted I start taking birth control and as a result they have suddenly grown into two very distracting mounds of flesh. At a total loss of what to wear and how to show off my new rack, the stylist on one of my photo shoots went through the plethora of clothes in the studio and picked out an outfit with a bra that pushed and pumped up those babies even more! I thought the outfit was a bit daring, so I examined myself in the mirror with hesitation. But then Janine Lindemulder, who was sitting in the makeup chair preparing for the day's photo shoot, exclaimed, "Oh my God! Look at those tits! Wow, you look so hot I want to fuck you right now!" That's when I knew I had to wear the outfit. If Janine tells you she thinks you look sexy, you listen. Tits aside, Acme Andersson and I pulled up to a ridiculous 10 dollar valet charge, which made me not want to tip - but I thought to myself when I actually come out to get my car I'll probably be a bit tipsy, and I tend to be a loving, generous drunk anyway, so what the hell. Of course a line had already formed outside of the club (actually, it was more of a disorganized crowd), so we had to wait a few minutes to get in. I figured the doorman must be gay because I was standing in a crowd of ALL guys and with the way my cleavage was looking, I should have been inside in no time. Instead, I was ignored as groups and groups of panting boys were let in. The anticipation was obvious as an overabundance of testosterone practically jumped from foot to foot at the idea of free drinks and a glimpse of The Jenna in person. Finally, Acme told them he was on the Club Jenna list and handed him his AVN business card. The guy couldn't find the name on any of the pages, closed the list and said, "I don't see you on the list." Acme looked at the first page and pointed out that his was the first name on the first page. ("Advantage of being Acme," he later slurred to me.) The scene inside pretty much mirrored the situation outside - the club was filled with desperate frat boy-types on cell phones boasting to their buddies about how they were "at Jenna's birthday party." The ratio of men to women was about 18-to-1, and thus any and all girls, myself included, were getting an ego-boosting amount of attention. Acme and I came to realize it really wasn't a "porn" party when we surveyed the entire venue and we didn't recognize anybody. But there was the usual kind of eye candy present - a tall blonde with such a incredibly-amplified pair of tits that it looked painful, and a girl with such a short skirt on that I think it might have actually been a belt, but no one had bothered to tell her. Certainly none of the guys present were about to correct her. Finally Jenna made her entrance and hour or so into the festivities, looking a bit dazzled by all of the flashing cameras going off and of course being followed by a video camera crews from E! and Access Hollywood and others. It was as though she was being chased by a desperate mob and the constant bright klieg-like lights hurt my eyes. She was followed by her team of contract girls. Vivid Girl Briana Banks was also in tow, along with new boyfriend Pat Myne. I only had the opportunity to give a quick hello to Jesse Capelli and Briana before they were swept along to the VIP table where they would remain guarded from the fans and, of course, constantly photographed. Though it was an open bar, Acme is a very generous tipper and the blonde bartender was hip to that and gave him quick attention. There was always a full glass in hand as I chatted to with people I recognized that had arrived fashionably late. (I, on the other hand, wanted to get there early. There is no such thing as being fashionably late when the drinks are free.) In fact, if I had known that AVNinsider was interested in an article on the party ahead of time, I would have paid more attention to details as opposed to getting so drunk that I spent half the night telling Scott Fayner that I "felt his pain", and how I would be his own personal therapist if he needed me. For the few unfamiliar, he is the man behind lukeford.com and, as of late, has not been a happy boy. In fact, the day before the party he had posted this on his site: "I'll clue you in on a little secret: I'm getting real drained in this business. I hardly doubt anyone who has ever popped on by this failed experiment of mine would think I could propel this train 'til the end of the line without either making a pit-stop at the funny farm, stopping in a quiet town for my anticipated dirt nap or getting off near the hospital to deal with some scary sex virus docked in my gonads I plan on contacting after dressing like a girl and being tricked into having sex with Marc Wallice. "I just need to see something tangible in people, and finding that in porn folk is about as common as Corey Feldman being taken seriously. "So many people tell you what they think you want to hear, and they hear only what they want. I find it unfair when I'm telling people what I think and they hear nothing. It's my fault for ever thinking there was more to this biz then a one-dimensional one story town." Hopefully he was drunker than I was and doesn't remember the conversation. I have my own therapist to deal with, and I'm pretty sure Fayner needs a professional, not some blonde ditz with about seven Red Bull and vodkas in her. Because of the crowd and the tight security around Jenna, I didn't feel like fighting my way through all the fans to say stop by and hope she might recognize me, only to be given a quick hello and then ignored. But Jenna's makeup artist, who I have known since I was a little girl, dragged me out into the VIP section, and got me my moment with Jenna. Every time I meet her I'm convinced she's not going to remember who I am - but she always does. It amazes me that with all the fame Jenna has generated within the last couple of years, her personality hasn't changed a bit. I am not kissing ass when I say that Jenna is as gracious, friendly and sweet as the first day I ever met her. We had a long talk about her success, my mother, and how much we'd love to shoot her again. After a good 15 minute personal conversation, Jenna's attention was being distracted by one of her models who wanted her to look at "the weird dent in my back!" That's the moment I knew it was my time to bow out, and get back to the bar because my drink was empty. So I thanked and hugged her, and fought my way back out through the crowd. Though by now I had lost Acme in the huge swarm of people, I figured there must be someone else I know there. I mean, it's a porn party right? But it seemed as if the club was packed with male fans, not hot porn chicks. Is Jenna keeping out the competition? Hmmm. Well it worked for me, because at that moment I was approached by one of those frat boy types, who immediately walked up to me and complemented me on my rack. I graciously thanked him, and he proceeded to ask if he could just squeeze them, "just once!" I would have tossed a drink in his face, but Acme was MIA so my glass was empty. Where's Acme when you need him? Probably at the bar with the blonde. Then it occurred to me that one day I'll be old and my tits will hang down to the floor - and believe me, no one will want to squeeze them then. So I simply sweetly turned him down. My quick exit was introduced when I spotted Carly Milne of SinSpin.com in the back corner. Finally all the people I knew from "the biz" collected into the back corner, and I felt more comfortable in the throng. Imagine that, porn people make me feel at home. Maybe I did have an odd childhood. Not bad - just odd. Finally Acme showed up another drink for me, which is why you gotta love the guy. The evening swam by in a haze of alcohol, and in hilarious stories about the things people in this industry do. Freaks, you know who you are. Finally, the open bar suddenly became a cash bar an hour before promised on the invite, so it was time to leave. Besides, I was feeling kinda horny and I knew there was more alcohol at home. Which, was thankfully only two miles away. But the best part of the evening? My tits got us an invitation to the Magic Castle. It's good to be a girl. - Holly Randall hollyrandall.com