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An excerpt from my most current publication: “The Hand Print”:

That scene would star Jenna and a effectively-regarded male porn star named T. T. Boy, a shorter, pugnacious performer with a lantern jaw and a lasting scowl who reminded me of a much less-vibrant Patrick Bateman. (“Within the business, he is recognized as an untiring performer,” T. T. Boy’s Wikipedia web site touts. “In a 2015 interview, he stated that about the class of his vocation, he has slept with more than 10,000 gals.”) I realized who T. T. Boy was right before I arrived because I had examine about him in the pages of The New Yorker. In 1995, Susan Faludi experienced composed about the suicide of a male porn star named Cal Jammer, and through her investigation in the San Fernando Valley, her route experienced crossed with that of T. T. Boy’s. In her story, she’d quoted a former male porn star who’d noticed of T. T. Boy: “Basically, the dude is a daily life-aid program for a penis.” I uncovered this evaluation to be about ideal. He was scaled-down than me, brooding, coiled as if wanting for an excuse to do something to anyone—it did not genuinely make any difference what or who, whether or not it was battling or fucking. Possibly it was all the exact to him.

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