‘What The Hell Was I Thinking?!!’ - Confessions of the World’s Most Controversial Sex Symbol

by Jake Brown

  What The Hell

  Was I Thinking?!!

  ‘What The Hell Was I Thinking?!!’

  Confessions of the World’s Most Controversial Sex Symbol © 2011 Jasmin St. Claire. All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopying or recording, except for the inclusion in a review, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published in the USA by:

  BearManor Media

  PO Box 1129

  Duncan, Oklahoma 73534-1129 www.bearmanormedia.com

  ISBN 978-1-59393-604-4 Printed in the United States of America.

  Book design by Brian Pearce|Red Jacket Press.

  Cover photo by Robin Perine, Seeing Red Studio. www.robinperine.com © 2010 Robin Perine Photography

  MaryJane Clements – Hair & Makeup

  What The Hell

  Was I Thinking?!!

  Confessions of the

  World’s Most Controversial Sex Symbol

  Jasmine St. Claire

  with jake br own

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3

  Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

  Paradise Lost . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15

  The Toys!! The Toys!!! My Painful Descent Into Hell… . . . . . 37

  My Season in Hell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57

  Kurt the Construction Worker

  a.k.a. Gay Stripper/Porn Actor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65 The 35% Guy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71

  California Fun: The birth of Jasmin St. Claire . . . . . . . . . . 77

  Fame at Any Cost . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89

  The Rated X Files. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97

  The Big (Gang) Bang Theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .131

  Picking Up The Pieces . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139

  1997: The Year of Living Dangerously . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155

  Time to Move On… . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .173

  The End of an Error . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193

  Reborn . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207

  Still Going Strong . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 221 The Birth of 3PW Wrestling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231 3PW Lives On!!! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243 Metal, Metal & More Metal!!!. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269 Booty Call Gone Wrong… . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 299 Married, but still alone in this world…and suicidal . . . . . . 317 Thanksgiving Debacle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 327 2008: The Year of New Beginnings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 337 2009 & Beyond… . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 349 Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 359

  a ckno wledgments

  First, a few words from Jasmin... WOW!!!!!!!!!! I cannot believe that this book is actually done. Writing this book has been the most therapeutic experience ever and I got to relive so many great moments and many heartbreaking memories. When my ex husband threatened to divorce me if I wrote the book, it took a back burner for a few years...divorcing me was the biggest favor he did for me. I have had an amazing and brilliant life full of joy, tears, travels, fearlessness, laughter, adventure, heartaches and most of all filled with love from my close friends. If certain events did not happen in my life, I may never have had many of the adventures that I did and sure as hell never would have met some of the great people that are in my life now. I am so glad that I was never one of the “lucky ones” who got married right after school and had kids. If I did that, there would be no book or great experiences to share with others.

  Since the last chapter of this book, a major change took place in my life. I was, once again, hurt terribly and had my heart broken more than ever. This came in the form of the true love of my life. I will always remember the warm Summer afternoon that he left me in a hotel in NY so he could go and eat with his family. Upon his insecure sister’s request, he left me back at the hotel. By his own admittance his sister was jealous, had a lot of issues in her own relationship and never liked me from the second she met me (she claimed I was cheap and trashy looking and he had given up on love thats why he was with me), despite how much I was nice to his family. I do understand that racism also played a role in this. He had no character and should have addressed this issue with his family before taking nearly two years of my life. Thats what I get for standing by someone I had the most perfect and happy relationship with. I was the one who respected him more than his own family for the man he

  8 what the hell was i thinking?!! was no matter what. I would have lived with him anywhere in the world and he knew that. True loyalty and unconditional love are hard to find. I doubt he will ever see truth behind his family, their controlling ways, jealousies, disrespect towards him and most of all taking away his chance to move forward in his career in California. The last thing my true love said was for me to do something about my eyebrows because they were very “negative looking.” It’s okay, because my life goes on and I will never shut my heart down and always be the loyal one who stands by someone no matter how good or bad they have it and most of all, I know who I am and am proud of that. At least I live my life for myself and make my own choices sans influence.

  I will never ever complain about anything that I have done or anywhere I have been. Everything you are about to read in this book is real...you couldn’t make this stuff up. I am not apologizing to anyone in advance for any feelings that may be hurt..you dance with the devil ; you have to pay the price.

  The thank yous are the hardest part of this book and I don’t know where to start. I must thank Jake Brown for being so patient when we started working together on this, Paul Heyman (Ex ECW owner) for giving me first chance to work for a major wrestling company…ECW was a great place, my dear friend Amy for always being there for me no matter when, where and what time…you are the sister I never had and am so lucky to have you in my life Pookie bear, Bill Hudson for being the kid brother I never had and also being there during the worst heartbreak ever, I gotta thank every band that I have ever tortured..oops I mean interviewed.. it was great getting to know the human sides of everyone and I will always respect and support the metal scene, my lawyer Raymond R Granger for being the best damn lawyer in NYC…or actually in the whole country (look him up if you need a damn good lawyer), our agent Albert Longden for your tirelessly hard work getting this book to the finish line, our publisher Ben Ohmart and BearManor Media, Robin Perine for the amazing cover photo, Ron Estrada for always being a great friend, Rebecca (Viva Rebecca) for the killer jewelry on the book cover and most of all for the friendship and creativity over the years, BP at Cleopatra records, Howard Stern, Charlie Frey, Fred Sherman for being a great friend and helping out with the book shoot, Lemmy just for being you, pumpkin and socks

  jasmin st . claire 9 the cats for all that you do, Matt Larsen, everyone who helped with the guitars, my mom for giving birth to me and raising me to be humble, respectful and independent, my dad for ev
erything…not a day goes by that I don’t cry for you…I will never get over your death, my family at Stay Heavy TV, my friends and fans for the love and devotion over the years and most of all the ex boyfriends from hell for derailing my life and breaking my heart…without you people I never would have half the adventures and wild times in my life…OBRIGADA!!!!!!

  i ntr oduction America’s Most Controversial Sex Symbol

  When I got into the business in 1995, the adult film industry was at a crossroads, to put it gently. More roughly — which is what I’m known for in that world — the business was in midst of a mid-life crisis. Traci Lords and Samantha Fox had gone legitimate, and there was a void that clearly needed filling, by 300 men in 24 hours to be exact. That was one of the records I set anyway, during my years dominating adult film. It was time for a new ecstasy; men were tired of the ordinary white trash and looking for something a little more exotic. That’s where I came in, and within a year I had become known as ‘ America’s Most Controversial Sex Symbol.’ I had always turned the tongues out of men’s mouths, like that sexy little porn star in the school girl’s uniform you boys always seem to be fantasizing about. Except I really have the Ivy League education. I also speak four languages fluently, which means four times the tongue action I’ve got working for me around the world. My friend recently went into a small mom-and-pop adult film shop in the heart of Chicago, and asked if they had anything by me, just out of curiosity, and the clerk told him I was still their best selling star. I’ve been out of the adult film business for over ten years, but as far as most men in America are concerned in their fantasies, I’ve never left their bedrooms, let alone their fantasies.

  I pushed the boundaries of porn to where they needed to be re-adjusted at that time, and really treated it like a business. Men obviously responded to something about my sexuality, so I worked hard to make it my very own brand. I went through some horrific times on my way to the top, but I never looked at myself like a victim. I had a choice, and used it to make sure that men didn’t from the first time they laid eyes on me. The

  11

  12 what the hell was i thinking?!! aftermath was a multi-million dollar mini-industry that grew out of my desire to please my fans in a way that they’d never seen before me, and couldn’t ever forget afterward. I’ve gotten thousands of letters from fans telling me I was the greatest sexual experience of their life, and most of them never laid more than eyes on me. The point is the indelible place I hold in their memories, and this is the chronicle of my own. Come with me behind the legendary lust, beyond the fantasies, past any borders or boundaries into easily one of the wildest world of fantasies the world of adult film has ever known. This world is mine, and I’m finally ready to share every one of its naked truths with you…

  Part i

  Paradise Lost

  I was born in St. Croix, the U.S. Virgin Islands on October 23rd. My father owned the biggest distribution company on the island that dealt with cigarettes, chips, soda, beer, and so on to all the stores on the island. His company carried just about everything you needed. When I was 4, my parents divorced and I moved to New York City with my mother. Though I was raised day-to-day by my mother, my parents remained very civil to each other for my sake, and so I never felt my father was absent from my life. I would visit him in the summers, and talk on the phone regularly. He would also come up in the spring, and eventually relocated back to the city. Back in New York, I lived with my mom and grandmother, who helped raise me for the better part of my childhood. My spring and part of my summers were usually spent in London or Brazil where I had family.

  When we first moved to the Big Apple, we lived across the bridge in the Midwood section of the neighboring borough of Brooklyn, in a two-story Brownstone, which had a nice pretty flower-garden in the back. Many times when I would fall to sleep at night I would feel like I wasn’t alone in my room. I would wake up in the morning and find all the furniture re-arranged in the Dollhouse. Other times the T.V. would turn off involuntarily. Another time, when my cousin was over, we were sitting at the kitchen table waiting for lunch, and that day, my cousin was wearing corduroy pants and snow boots. Well, at one point, a pair of feet started kicking me under the table, and when I looked down, I saw a pair of white ballerina stockings, with white ballerina slippers, all colored pasty white. I kept looking up and down at the floor, my cousin finally asked me what was wrong, and I explained what I was seeing. Both my cousin and my mom thought it was just my imagination that time. It wasn’t

  15 until one night a couple of weeks later when I awoke throwing up little white chunks that my mother started to believe me. No one — doctors my mom took me to see — could determine the cause of this. When my mother did a little research into the background of the house, it turned out a little girl my age had been poisoned there by her parents and had died in same spot my bed sat; in the very room I called mine. We moved shortly after that, which is when we moved to Manhattan, but I kept going to private school in Brooklyn.

  I went to a private Montessori School for the first year of my scholastic life. For most of my adolescent years, Brooklyn Friends School, which had very small class sizes, was a great way to learn. My mom liked the Quaker philosophy, which is very non-competitive, and I was happy there. I was a very quiet student who got very good grades.Though I kept attending the Quaker school, at age 7, my family moved to the West Side of Manhattan by Central Park. It was really a good place to be raised, because you’re in the middle of everything cultural — all the plays, museums, all the great restaurants, it was just awesome. I think my mom did a great thing raising me as a single parent because from a very young age, it taught me the importance of independence. The flipside of that came with the fact that both she and my grandmother were also very protective of me too, so as a child, I did pretty much everything with one or the other of them. My grandmother would take me to Central Park every day, and because I lived in Manhattan and went to school in Brooklyn, I didn’t really have many close friends as a younger child. I was picked on at times by these fat kids at my school, one fat bitch in particular named Sidney Silver. She looked like a fat, Jewish pig; if Miss Piggy was Jewish and miserable that’s what she’d look like. So I had to go to see a child psychologist for about a year, but I eventually learned to speak up for myself.

  My best friend in grade school was an African-American girl named Njeri and we’d go shopping for Barbies every week — she’d get the black one, I’d get the white one, we were very close. I was accelerated twice in my life between 4th and 5th grade, and 7th and 8th grade, so I was used to dealing with older people all my life. I was still very quiet though, I think because I skipped grades; it made my mom a bit more protective, so I wasn’t allowed to go out nearly as much as the kids around me in school were. I felt really comfortable at home, and didn’t like sleepovers as I didn’t like being around other kids as much. I liked it at Friends School; that’s where I went most of my academic career before college.The atmosphere was very supportive of learning, and less about stupid JAP social scenes, everyone was all about helping one another, and weren’t there to cut your throat. So at that school, I was around really good people.

  In my younger years, I’d travel a lot to Europe and Brazil to see my extended family. I didn’t know what it felt like to have siblings, but I’d have to say the closest thing I had to that were my cousins Cindy and Patrick, who lived in London. Patrick would pick on us like you wouldn’t believe, like a big brother might, and it scared me at first like you wouldn’t believe because I was so non-confrontational as a child. He would pretend to be a ghost, move the furniture around, and just fuck with us all the time like he was scaring his little sisters. Back in New York, my cultural education was very important to my mother, and so she and I went to a play and to a museum exhibit every weekend. I remember once my mother had tickets to the King Tut exhibit, and I could tell her all the exhibits. I would go with a friend every weekend, which was really cool. I think the museums and plays
molded me quite a bit, I was spoiled by all the different foods, and I would say traveling overseas every summer was a great thing because not many kids had an opportunity to do that. Being exposed to different cultures, going on summer trips to Europe and Brazil, it was all amazing because its very normal for kids growing up in New York to never leave Brooklyn, or Queens, or even Manhattan.

  When I was younger, up until about 10 when my dad moved back to New York, I would go to the U.S. Virgin Islands in the spring to visit him. I felt privileged, and had a lot of kids that were jealous of me for it. I remember once my mom picked me up on my seventh birthday from school and took me straight to Florida, to Disney, and it was a total surprise. So some kids were jealous, which is part of why I didn’t have as many friends as other kids did back then. I don’t regret it though; it was one of the best things in the world. If I have a child of my own some day, I want them to travel, I’d insist on it. Being around everything as a child was like an amazing Carnival ride — Central Park, Manhattan, the theatres, going to see a play every weekend with my mom — it was great. There weren’t a lot of kids who had that luxury. My mom was definitely my best friend then, and to her credit she never said anything fucked up about my father, because he never did anything fucked up. They didn’t have a nasty split; I just think she basically pushed him away. It wasn’t abnormal too for me to grow up in a single-parent home, because my best friend was raised by a single mother, and in Manhattan, so it didn‘t feel like anything uncommon or out of the ordinary. My parents never bickered or fought in front of me.

  I looked up to my mom back then, and as I mentioned before, she remained my best friend throughout those early years, her and my first cat, a little gray tabby I got from the ASPCA that I named Scooter. I really like animals. I always had a soft spot for them. Once in a while, my mom would let me have a day off from school, just for being good, and would take me shopping. My mom was definitely the closest one to me back then, because she was really the only other person I had around me that whole time. Every single weekend, for instance, we had a routine where we’d go see a matinee movie or play, then go to Howard Johnson’s in Times Square, and I’d always have the clam strips and a milk shake. From seeing all the theatre I did when I was a kid too, it might surprise you, but I never had an interest in acting that stemmed from that. In fact, when I was a little kid, I wanted to be a Veterinarian when I grew up. I had no interest in acting, though I did take ballet classes as a child. I never wanted to do acting, because I was always smart, and thought I didn’t need it. In fact, I did drama one year and didn’t like it, I didn’t like the people I worked with, and this was at the Anglo-American school. It was ironic, because I went to summer school and different classes after my regular school day was over all during my formative years, and NOT because I needed to catch up, but because I was ahead. I was taking AP language classes, and different courses too advanced to be offered at the school I was at. I never liked the social scenes at most of the schools I attended. I hated the petty cliques, and was always more interested in excelling, or going to France for the summer to learn in French.