Dearest Stormy,
I will say straight away that this is not an easy letter for me to write.
From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew it was there. The clip, titled "Stormy Waters fucked and cum shot," was one from the random torrent of pornography I download from Limewire onto my computer every week, leaving it crippled with viruses. While the scene itself was not spectacular - thirty seconds of sideways sex on a bed, followed by obligatory pop shot - you looked amazing. Nay, amazing doesn’t quite explain it; you looked super fucking hot. T.T.B.B. (tall, tanned, blonde, boobied) all the way.
Immediately, I had thought I had found the answer. Ever since Celeste retired a few years before, I had been in search of a new favorite porn star. To that end, I dabbled quite a bit. Chasey Lain, with her blue eyes and dark hair, was fun for awhile, but soon she retired and left me alone, sitting in front of my TV/VCR with my dick in my hand and no new material. There is nothing wrong at all with Jenna Jameson, but she was the object of desire of far too many - I didn’t think she’d have the time for me (and, without getting into it, I was right).
Feeling spurned by Jenna, I turned to Taylor Hayes, one of the most beautiful but also one of the nastiest starlets - if watching her "Best of...Blowjobs" doesn’t send chills up your spine, you either don’t have a spine, eyes, or penis; the woman is a semen-eating machine. But with Taylor it was all physical. Likewise with Stacey Valentine, who has the IQ roughly equivalent to that of a German Shephard. I was into Kira Kener for some time, but c’mon - I can’t get seriously involved with an Asian girl (even if she is half-Norwegian).
I then went through a fairly serious Sunrise Adams phase and nearly fell in love. But, though I am admittedly a breast man, I fell in love with the Sunrise Adams pre-breast implants. Once she got the fake boobies, I couldn’t make it. I mean, I could make it - I ejaculated even more viciously than before - but I couldn’t make "us" work.
Dejected, demoralized, and pretty much out of semen, it was then that I first saw you, Stormy. After witnessing that first clip, I downloaded some more and - I’m not ashamed to write this - I fell completely head over heels for you. This is in large part because I knew you were more than a sperm-covered smile and a pair of fake boobies. Despite your easy manner and Louzy-ana drawl (which, by the way, is adorable), you exuded a real sense of self-confidence, something so often missing from porn stars, who typically spent their formative years getting fucked by their dad/their uncle/a teacher/my dad.
And all was right with the world. I masturbated to your scenes with the reckless abandon of a bee who has first tasted honey or a poor who has taken his first hit from the pipe or a 26 year old who on the whole is pretty lonely and has a serious addiction to pornography, so much so that he occasionally has to fake orgasms while having actual sex. The next few months were the greatest of my life, as I basked in that warm glow and semeny smell of porno love.
But, as with all relationships, the glow began to subside (though the semeny smell remained strong, if it did not grow in strength). I still roughed up the suspect to your clips, but a scary notion began to dawn on me. When I was not blinded by lust, I realized something.
Stormy, you don’t have it.
Believe me - this is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to write. But I do so because I believe that it’s not too late - that you could still have it. But you need to work for it.
I feel, Stormy, that in your scenes, you are simply not applying yourself as much as you should. There is no fire, no real fire, in your fake love-making. Like any good contract girl, you "ooh" and "aah" at the right times, have no qualms when ass-play is involved, and are willing to take the pop shot wherever and whenever, but it is obvious to any discernable porn connoisseur that you are giving only the minimum effort required.
Like many gifted people, you rely solely on those talents that you have been born with (or that have been surgically inserted into your body) to get by. All throughout your career, you have been considered so stunningly beautiful and sexy that you never had to really work in your scenes; it was enough for you to just show up, take off your clothes, S a little D, get slammed, and be on your way. But I must tell you that your lack of effort and work ethic in your scenes is not only a slap in the face to your admirers, but a clear indication that - right now - you, Stormy Daniels, do not have it.
And when I realized this, I was devastated.
But this isn’t about me (too much). I write to you to both enlighten you and plead with you to step it up - not just for your fans, but for yourself and your legacy. Few in the modern porn industry have been able to combine looks of your caliber with a passion that makes even the most seasoned director blush. Celeste could. Jenna could. And possibly Briana Banks can, if she stopped doing so many drugs (or at least stopped looking like she did so many drugs).
You, Stormy, could add your name to this list. Your looks put you half-way there. All you need now is that fire. I encourage you to review the films of Melissa Hill, a starlet who may have been lacking in the looks department but who turned into a sexual wolverine when the director yelled "Action!" If you have the time, I would also suggest checking out some of Chloe’s early work, though I would stay away from her whole eye-rolling bit, because, frankly, it’s kind of creepy.
I know that you may find some of my words hurtful, but please remember that I write these things only because I care about you, and because I know that you are on the doorstep of greatness - true greatness - that so many of your peers can not even approach. A few simple changes in your approach and shortly your name will be mentioned along side the all-time greats. You are so close, Stormy. So close. And I am getting such an erection writing this letter to you.
I close this letter with a quote from Calvin Coolidge, thirtieth president of the United States. I think it sums up my feelings and your task very well:
‘Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.’Stormy, the key to the pantheon of porn greatness lies in your well-manicured hand. Unlock the door, Stormy. Unlock the door.
(Or something.)
As always,
Green, as I love you, greenly,
Beneath the moon of the gypsies,
Silent things are looking at you,
Things you cannot see,
I am,
Johnny Trashbag
