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Confessions of a Video Vixen

First off, this book is straightforward trashy fun and shouldn’t be read as the cautionary tale the author claims it to be. She takes obvious joy in her past excesses and continues till 3 pages from the conclusion to brag about her conquests (in this last case, Usher). Her glammed-up photo on the back of the jacket (hiking her dress-front all the way up to her crotch) pretty much lets you read this book by its cover.

The book, although primitively written, is very entertaining. There were several aspects of the narrative that struck me as odd/funny and I hadn’t seen them before in a tell-all. One is the way she casts every seamy sexual encounter as a dewy passing romance between herself and her fifteen minute paramour. A sex life like no other, sex with almost everyone “would go for hours on end, each hour more satisfying than the last.” I think I’d be sore.

The author implies that she never had an STD and says explicitly that she always practiced safe sex. Her will power must be phenomenal. She was involved in several cocaine/booze/XTC fueled multi-partner, multi-day orgies; still she had the presence of mind to insist that protection always be used. I guess she isn’t the pox-ridden trollop one would at first assume from her descriptions of being passed around like a well circulated library book.

Her laundry list of conquests include Ice T, Diddy, Fred Durst, Kool G Rap, Bobby Brown, Ja Rule, Jay Z, Vin Diesel, Mr. Marcus, Shaquille O'Neal, Dr. Dre, and Usher.

Despite these blatant improbabilities, she is generally very intelligent about her construction of events. She is much smarter than, say, James Frey, since almost none of her story can be objectively confirmed. Even the low point of her tale – her drug-induced seizure at Mr. Chow’s – is missing a verifiable report because she conveniently escaped just before the ambulance arrived.

Although she occasionally worked as a video vixen, most of her time was spent toiling in a much older profession. She lived the high-life for quite a while and each encounter with a famous man ends with her getting cash or a gift. And therein lies the moral of the story, I suppose.