Fucking up Christopher Robin

Why I Didn’t Make it Past the Casting Couch

Hollywood, here I cuuummmm

June 2006

Summertime was in full swing, and I made the hardest decision of my life: I ditched my small sleepy town and moved to Hollywood.

I’d always wanted to be an actress, but I was a shy girl. I knew the only way to make it would be in the adult entertainment industry, as I wouldn’t have to actually speak much.

A script would be tough. But:

OhhhhhhhhhhhhhhYesYesYesYesYesHarderMakeMeRaw — that, I could manage.

That’s how I landed my ass on this couch. When I walked in, I saw the couch and was like,

Oh, fuck yes, naptime!

But they had different ideas.

Questions, so many questions.

My “interviewer” Jeremy Coknballs sat down across from me, as I crossed one stumpy yet sexy-to-some leg over the other.

I batted my eyelashes and giggled as I leaned forward to ensure he had the very best view of my lollipops.

Jeremy C-Balls gave me the once over slowly and then asked:

Why do you want to be here, Ginger?

I shrugged. Shifted my eyes a bit. Then I replied:

I’m running out of time. I desperately want to be famous, and I know I would do well in this industry.

For extra pizazz, I uncrossed my legs and gave him a view of my very attractive birthday cake, if you will. I’m not trying to be crass here.

Jeremy’s eyes lit up with all the colors of the rainbow.

I think you could make it here. If we are talking names, what would you go by? Lil G?

Hmmm. I was thinking Sunshine?

He pondered this for a moment.

How about Lil Sunshine?

And henceforth the name part was settled.

Coknballs eyed me again.

You know, we’ll need to see what you can do.

Yes, I’m aware.

I’ll be honest with you. Right now, we are looking for butthole girls.

Butthole girls?

Precisely. Can you describe to me what sort of capacity your anal cavity has?

I’ll do you one better. I’ll show you.

And with that, I rolled over in a backward somersault and let my asshole gape open, large enough to fit a litter of small puppies inside. Teacup size. Still impressive.

Cute pillows, right?

I mustered all the unicorn magic I had in me, and theatrically yelled:

ICE ME WITH YOUR CREAM, DADDY COKNBALLS!!

And at that time, I was released, and they said I would hear from them if they found any jobs for me.

2 months later, my waitressing job couldn’t pay the bills and I hitchhiked back to the Midwest.

This is in response to Christopher Robin’s wholesome 12-word challenge:

Kristine Laco insisted everyone behave this time around, but then she wrote this, so I felt like the door was open for me to really dive in.

Don’t tell me my use of snuggles and ice cream is cheating! I find it rather inventive.