Hi RJ’S D—
Do you participate in any sports?
S. Kest, Renton WA
Hi S,
Well, as you know, I’m quite fond of baseball and have begun training to reach my ultimate goal of hitting one over the fence. But what I’m not proud to report is my involvement in a series of cock fights back in the mid-eighties. Yes—traditionally “cock fighting” is that sport where roosters fight each other to the death. This, unfortunately, was as literal as you can think. Ron was working hard in those days, but a couple of shady producers left him dry for a few months. To make some quick cash, he entered me in a series of fights. There wasn’t any cock I couldn’t destroy within minutes in the ring. Until July 17, 1986 when I was put up against Charlie Sheen’s dick. Jesus that thing had strength and stamina. I had a feeling this would be the case. We traveled in the same circles, banged the same porn stars.
So I knew I’d met my match—albeit one that was still a couple inches shorter. I’ll spare you the details, except to say we both ended up in the ER, forever changing the life of an unfortunately fresh new resident.
Dear Ron’s Monster,
Have you ever been in love?
G. Earls, Walled Lake, MI
Hello G,
I have to admit that when I read your letter, the wind was temporarily taken out of me. Your question brought me back swiftly to 1991 when, yes, I fell deeply in love. Her name was Loretta, and I think about her to this day with a combination of gratitude and pain.
She wasn’t a porn star. She was simply a fan, who’d contacted Ron on the occasion of her 21st birthday, wanting to lose her virginity to the most famous porn star in the world. Now Ronnie doesn’t normally k’noodle with the fan base, but she was quite pretty and, even more to Ron’s liking, exceptionally funny.
So Ron took her out for a nice meal, then returned to his place to pop some champagne and her cherry.
MY GOD—WHAT IS THIS FEELING I’M NOT USED TO?!!! Her walls hugged me so tight, clinging to me with such intensity. A warm embrace like a mother hugging her crying baby. Now I’ve been in more caves than I can count, but this was so different. I could feel my surroundings! Extraordinary.
Ron slept the whole next morning away like it was no big deal. But I was smitten. I snuck outside for a walk, returning at the base of Ron’s window holding a boombox over my head. Yes—I was inspired by “Say Anything.” I wasn’t able to find that Peter Gabriel track, but I lucked out with the even more appropriate Weird Al Yankovic song, “In Your Thighs”.
Goodnight Loretta, wherever you are.
