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<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698</id><updated>2008-12-04T18:09:47.762-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kayden Kross Official Blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/blog.html'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default?start-index=26&max-results=25'/><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/atom.xml'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-1866211925648167950</id><published>2008-12-04T18:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T18:09:47.777-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gently Loved</title><content type='html'>I have a secret. I like playing with car dealerships. I don’t feel bad because their people play with enough of the other customers. They’re trained professionals.<br /><br />It started when I was 18 and stripping and finally had the resources to go to a dealership by myself and get a new car. I wanted a Nissan 350z in one of the cool metallic colors, stick shift. I was driving an 05 Saturn sedan at the time. Not a bad car but it didn’t make my heart race. I drove through the auto mall and scouted. Cue shark music. I saw it. It was beautiful. I went in.<br /><br />The car was “pre-owned”, a term I will never agree with because ‘pre’ means ‘before’, and if I get a “pre-owned” vehicle I’m not getting the car before it’s been owned. I’m getting one that’s been owned before. I actually brought this argument out loud once and I was told that pre stands for previously, which I knew, but the whole thing is still just sickeningly euphemistic, like “gently loved” vehicles. Uh. Semantics.<br /><br />So the pre-owned aka used car (“gently used”) was on a little spinning car stand offered at 30k. I showed up in a Saturn in pajamas and with a driver’s license that proved I was 18. They weren’t expecting much from me, especially since I didn’t have my daddy and his credit card there. I told them I wanted to test drive the Z, and they looked at me mockingly and said it was a stick as if that would get rid of me. Alas, it did not. I told them my Saturn was a stick and they brought it down.<br /><br />So we went around the block and down the freeway and back. It didn’t feel the way I expected but I wanted to test out the car buying waters before I jumped in. I whittled and whittled and whittled and told him everything he wanted to hear. Yessir I’d be financing as much as I can. I love it but I can’t afford it. I still can’t afford it. I still can’t afford it. Puppy eyes. Please mister make it work it’s my dream car. He came down to $23,500. I was so proud. I left.<br /><br />I’ve done this more than a few times since, more than a few different ways, and most of the time with no intention of actually buying. When I bought my truck I did it for close to three weeks. It was a thrill and I have a problem. <br /><br />I did it again today. I’m not doing it for kicks this time. I really do need a car but unless I’m given a disgustingly good deal I see no reason to buy from a dealership when private party deals are sometimes 50% of dealer asking prices. I want a BMW 335i coupe. I found exactly what I want today and it’s purdy. We really clicked, the car and I. The sales guy didn’t treat me like the young blond girl with fake boobs that can be taken advantage of because it’s shiny so I didn’t play games with him either. We got down to a fair price but I think he can do slightly better so I took his card (he already had my info) and I walked. If this turns out anything like the truck experience he’ll be calling me with better offers on similar vehicles for weeks. Or he’ll just cave on this one. We’ll see. <br /><br />But I think this time love finally got me. I can’t stop thinking about that car. Its exactly what I want. I have to be strong. I’m a dealership player and if I get emotional it will ruin my reputation. <br /><br />I hope he calls soon.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/1866211925648167950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=1866211925648167950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/1866211925648167950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/1866211925648167950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/12/gently-loved.html' title='Gently Loved'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-5198826751394621805</id><published>2008-12-03T21:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T21:57:00.815-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Porn Checklist</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/DSC_1144-701498.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/DSC_1144-700727.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Well I’m getting ready for a heavy weekend. Adultcon and a Spearmint Rhino feature. How can one possibly feel prepared for that? It almost feels like getting ready for AVN. No matter how many outfits and sharpie pens you get together you’ll still be preparing up until you walk into the signing booth. Oh well. I need a little excitement in my life-- I’ve had the last two days off.<br /><br />So here’s the checklist: <br /><br />Polaroid camera + film: check. <br />“Kayden’s Krossfire”, “Bree and Kayden”, “Rollerdollz”, and “Kayden Exposed”: check. <br />“Double Krossed” and “Surrender of O”: ordered. <br />“Meet Kayden”: working on it. <br />8x10s, posters and sharpies: check. <br />Press release and MySpace bulletin: check. <br />Roadie: check. <br />Skimpy outfits: check. <br />Veronique Vega and Alyssa Reece: check. <br /><br />I think we’re good for Adultcon. Now for the feature all I need to do is add some costumes and stripper heels and let Alyssa and Veronique go home for supper and we’re good. I think.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/5198826751394621805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=5198826751394621805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/5198826751394621805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/5198826751394621805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/12/porn-checklist.html' title='Porn Checklist'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-3354879701323927829</id><published>2008-12-03T01:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T01:27:58.284-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dog Days</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/pets-002-766070.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/pets-002-765547.JPG" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I had some shopping today. Or should I say shopping had me? If there were a match, shopping would have been the clear victor. It has consumed my day and I’ve now fallen behind on the practical things I should have done instead. I’m not a chronic shopper though. Once in awhile it just hits me and it hits me hard.<br /><br />Shopping was so tiring that I followed it up with Mexican food, which was bueno and another misuse of time that could have been spent on things like working out. But now I’m being good. I’m catching up on web stuff and being the dutiful pornstar. I didn’t want to work out anyway. My everything still hurts from yesterday.<br /><br />Priss went with me (the dog) and she is also exhausted. She had the Mexican food leftovers. She’s passed out on the bed and I envy her life because for her it was just another easy breezy beautiful dog day and for me it was the culmination of months of work and planning and avoiding sleep and will be followed by catch up work and planning and avoiding sleep. The personal assistant is going to start any day though…. I think my life is about to change slightly and I think I like it.<br /><br />So the next two days are all about Adultcon. I have most of my product together and will have the last of it tomorrow. I have a hair appt. in the afternoon and need to make sure my outfits are all together but after today that shouldn’t be a problem. Alyssa Reece is signing at my booth on Sunday and Veronique Vega is signing all 3 days with me so I have to make sure everything is tied up on their ends. And of course I’m featuring at the downtown Spearmint Rhino starting Thursday. Monday morning bright and early it’s back to shooting every day and it doesn’t stop again until December 22nd. <br /><br />I’m going to bed.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/3354879701323927829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=3354879701323927829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/3354879701323927829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/3354879701323927829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/12/dog-days.html' title='Dog Days'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-7634781398623421203</id><published>2008-11-26T00:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T21:54:56.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sans Dick Sucking</title><content type='html'>I don’t know how I ever got a job before porn. It couldn’t have been my “can do” eager to please attitude. I can’t verbally suck dick. Physically? Yes I can do that. But I don’t suck dick for jobs. I suck dick as a job. But not the hiring manager’s dick. I prefer stunt cock. I’m off subject.<br /><br />The point is I can’t kiss ass or blow things out of proportion. I can’t make a big deal out of my dexterity on a ten key calculator. I can’t turn past experience chasing bums off of storefronts into “oversaw promotion of positive company image” or first position on the burger line into “head chef”. I showed up to a job interview in pajamas once. I still got the job sans dick sucking. And no, it was not a porn interview.<br /><br />So here’s where this is all coming from: I put an ad up on Craigslist for an assistant. 10-15 hours a week, simple stuff, must have own transportation and be comfortable in an adult themed industry. References required. I’ve had literally hundreds of emails. 90% include attached resumes. One person really did list the ability to use a ten key calculator. One person really did claim to be detail oriented and thorough, spelled thuro. Most of them started out with dear hiring manager, dear sir or madam, to whom it may concern: …<br /><br />Or it was just a blank email with the resume attached. I deleted all of them. If there was a spelling error, if it was too impersonal, or too formal for porn, it didn’t stand a chance. <br /><br />I was left with a spattering of resumes that seemed to be on target. I interviewed 5 people tonight. I looked for applicants who had personality and could get things done correctly without any instruction from me. And they can all spell correctly, just because it’s a pet peeve of mine. I didn’t make it easy so I figured if they showed up on time to the right place with resume in hand and not dressed like they had a stick up their ass we’d be good to go. 3 did, 2 were late, 2 didn’t show up. I’d weeded them out pretty quickly. I ended up with 4 aspiring actors/actresses and 1 aspiring musician. The two who were late are out of the running, not only because they weren’t on top of it enough to figure it out for themselves but one showed up with a resume folded eight directions and it just seemed off. I can’t imagine he really has his life together and the thought of charging him with the task of getting mine together is scary.<br /><br />So now that I’m down to three, and they are all wonderful and prompt and smart and don’t need to be babysat and have all the necessary skills and experience and I don’t know what to do because I want them all. They each have one unique obvious strength. If combined they’d be superhumans. They’re all willing to accept the same pay. They’re all equally cool. I’m stuck.<br /><br />So I did some research. It’s too late to do the reference checks but I looked up myspace and facebook profiles and still nothing concrete enough to whittle it down further. I’m dealing with three skilled, flexible, down to earth people. And all I can think about is what I could possibly have had on the other applicants when I got a job in pajamas.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/7634781398623421203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=7634781398623421203' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/7634781398623421203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/7634781398623421203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/11/sans-dick-sucking.html' title='Sans Dick Sucking'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-4270305664931614325</id><published>2008-11-21T19:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T19:02:54.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Say No.</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/myspace1-759673.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 151px;" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/myspace1-759666.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I’m at Starbucks and I just finished my second Espresso Truffle of the day and I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. Maybe it was because I stayed up until 4am fucking yesterday. Or maybe it’s because I was on set for 20 hours the day before. Or maybe it’s because I only got 3.5 hours of sleep before showing up to set. And I can’t remember much beyond that. The airplanes and time changes are throwing me off.<br /><br />Or maybe it’s because I have a Starbuck’s addiction and I’m crashing after my caffeine bump. But I don’t recall getting the initial energy rush part of it. Its so advanced that I can’t even perk up off an Espresso Truffle. Maybe I should order larger ones. Anything with the word “truffle” in it sounds fattening so I’m ordering talls. Multiple talls.<br /><br />I just checked my email. First thing in the box was the info for tomorrow’s shoot and I feel a vague sense of doom. It said to get a lot of sleep because it’s going to be a long day. This is coming from the same guy who called the 20 hour day normal. It’s a night shoot. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing the sun rise.<br /><br />But the immediate thing to focus on is mustering the energy for tonight. It’s a Penthouse party. It’s my first time going to one of their events as one of their pets. Game face. I think game face might require more Starbucks but I don’t want more Starbucks. I don’t want the girl to look at me funny and say ‘another one?’ with that accusatory eyebrow thing she does. I might have to defend myself. I might go off about how at least when she goes home work is over. And a big day for her is eight hours. I laugh in the face of eight hours. I scoff.<br /><br />Maybe there will be a shift change soon. Then they won’t know it’s my third one but they’ll still know I’ve had at least one already because I’m sitting here guiltily typing away on my computer with the empty cup next to me sneaking furtive glances at the cash register in intervals that are far too close together. They probably think I’m waiting to rob the place. Maybe if I make eye contact and smile they’ll know I’m harmless. Or they’ll think I’m coming onto them. Real human interaction baffles me lately. Thank Myspace and Facebook for that.<br /><br />I’m gonna go the willpower route and pack up and walk out of here. I’m gonna walk tall. They’ll never know what obstacle I just overcame but I’ll know and that’s all that matters.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/4270305664931614325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=4270305664931614325' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/4270305664931614325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/4270305664931614325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/11/just-say-no.html' title='Just Say No.'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-3738619317676256738</id><published>2008-11-18T21:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T21:38:19.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dilemmas</title><content type='html'>Conte has me wrapped around his hoof. I’m a sucker for that boy. I don’t know what to do.<br /><br />Here’s the dilemma: I’m not in town enough for a horse right now. It’s not fair. He’s in a 12x12 box stall all day and he sees his manny more than he sees me. Every time I go more than a week without seeing him I begin to think I could probably handle selling him but then I come home and I spend an hour just brushing his hair or something trivial and I think he’s the love of my life again.<br /><br />When I got back this last time his manny had put him in a different stall. I was pissed. I fought for the stall he had because it has the best view. I don’t want him to be bored. I guess he learned how to get out of that stall though so he’s been moved to the maximum security aisle. How does a horse get out of a stall you might wonder? He broke the door down.<br /><br />I’m thinking of moving him to a different boarding ranch so I can at least get him a bigger stall. Then I think of moving him farther away so he can be out in a pasture. Then I freak out because the places that have pasture available are the same places that always catch on fire when I’m out of town. Last year when the big fires were burning in San Diego I spent three of those days driving around looking for Intrigue because I was just getting back into town at the same time they were evacuating. I finally found him, unmarked, at a ranch that didn’t even know they had him. Then I spent another week waiting for some stranger to return my horse trailer. I understand borrowing it in emergency circumstances but a courtesy call at any point to let me know it was safe and sound would have been nice. Same with Intrigue.<br /><br />So I’m stuck. I can’t lease him out for liability reasons. He’s not a well trained pony. He’s a green broke stud. I do have big plans that involve moving out of state but I’m not quite in a place where I can do that yet. It will probably be at least another year. When I do though I can guarantee it will be to a property that has acreage. <br /><br />…and then there’s Poopstain. He’s developed an unsavory habit of climbing up above my fireplace and throwing his cat weight on my head when I sleep. I have claw marks on my neck and face right now. And while I was taking a shower today he just hung from the shower curtain and swung back and forth, watching me and thinking strange devious cat thoughts. I think the best solution for him would be to get him a kitten friend. But then I wonder if my subconscious is just finding excuses to bring home new animals. But is that really so bad?<br /><br />Poopstain caught his first mouse yesterday. I’ve been letting him outside when I’m home and can keep an eye on him in the backyard so it wasn’t entirely a surprise when he drug the poor thing in. He doesn’t want to eat it though. He wants to cuddle it between throwing it in the air and catching it again. I think it died from shock because there is not a single drop of blood anywhere on its limp little body. I know this because he threw it at me and then waited expectantly. I don’t play fetch with rodents.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/3738619317676256738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=3738619317676256738' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/3738619317676256738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/3738619317676256738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/11/dilemmas.html' title='dilemmas'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-581536686301274196</id><published>2008-11-14T00:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T00:18:23.119-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Role Models</title><content type='html'>We just left the movie theaters and now we’re back on the road, following signs toward Boston and cursing the weather. I finally went to the gym today. I always pack gym clothes just in case before I leave town but I rarely manage to use them. I’m proud that on one out of the last four trips they actually made it out of the suitcase. <br /><br />From the gym we went to the theaters and saw “Role Models.” I give it five stars, two thumbs up. I was great. I wasn’t the one who picked the movie though. I don’t watch TV so I never even know what’s out. It’s amazing how out of touch you can get with the world if you turn that thing off. The trip coordinator suggested it and I knew nothing about it either way and it seemed like a reasonable enough way to kill time until the signing.<br /><br />Once we sat down I became much more familiar with the movie in question. It was originally called “Big Brother” starring Sean William Scott. How do I know this? I read for one of the parts. I went back to Universal Studios three times and they had it narrowed down to the last couple of girls and I was one of them. It was a small role. My line? “Fuck me minotaur man.” Right after he finished singing karaoke the girl was supposed to make small talk with him. She was supposed to be shy and unassuming. Then the next thing you know she’s a freak in the sack and he can barely keep up with her. Obviously they didn’t end up casting me for the part. It was all in vain though because they ended up cutting the whole thing anyways. I wonder if the girl who did get it just couldn’t pull it off. I doubt I would have been better.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/581536686301274196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=581536686301274196' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/581536686301274196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/581536686301274196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/11/role-models.html' title='Role Models'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-7030098295259493833</id><published>2008-11-09T16:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T16:38:29.314-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ninjas and Samurai Swords</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/salton-sea-2-785513.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/salton-sea-2-785431.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />It’s Sunday. I feel like I haven’t taken a breath since Thursday. I drove out to Indio Thursday night with Holly Randall and my web master and a make up artist for a shoot we had planned all day Friday at the Salton Sea. We got in around Midnight after a real road trip filled with a taco bell run, a tiny bit of navigation error, and gut spilling. I feel like I know the webman better. I have material to tease him with for years to come. I feel empowered.<br /><br />We checked into the hotel and I settled down to write an article I had promised then passed out. The alarm went off at 5:30 am and I was in the make up chair at 6. Then we jumped on the road for another 40 minutes. We ran into a small grid of trailers that didn’t constitute a town because there was no gas station. Actually, there were no businesses at all save a bar/mini mart and possibly an automotive repair in someone’s front yard. The place was deserted at 8:30 in the morning. We figured they were all asleep. When we couldn’t find the exact deserted spot we were looking for Holly turned back to the bar/mini mart to ask for directions. The bar was packed. I think I can safely report that the entire town was in that bar at 9am. They were quite friendly though and pointed us in the right direction. Sweet.<br /><br />So our little caravan pulled up to the shore, my giant truck and her Volvo. At one point in time the sea rose up and flooded the old trailer park grid and what was left was gray and sagging and made of plywood. The salt crunched underneath us as we walked between abandoned homes and over fish bones. Everything was the same color except the sky which seemed vividly blue in comparison. There was no life anywhere. Except the ninja. There was a ninja practicing on the shore about a quarter mile down. He was spinning a large stick and wearing all black. My webmaster said he was quite good. My webmaster would know. He had brought a samurai sword for protection. I didn’t think anyone would believe this part so I got it all on BTS.<br /><br />The first set was gorgeous. I wore a bright blue dress to match the sky and posed in front a water damaged chair in a roofless house and a broken out window. I wore trailer make up. Artsy. At one point some park troopers rolled through and asked Holly what she was doing. She was a student at Brooke’s University. This was her semester project. He said next time get a permit but as long as there was no nudity or money being made he’d let it slide this time. No sir. No nudity or profit here. He left. I know what you’re thinking: this is a national park? Yup. Protected by your tax dollars.<br /><br />After the first set we drove off in search of another secluded beach. We found one down a nameless road and got more artsy grunge inside an old public restroom that had also been abandoned after it was flooded out. I was impressed with Holly’s range. I’ve only ever seen her shoot in a controlled studio doing the same controlled poses that are optimal for bright clear views of the cookie. She put me in black leather boots and fetish make up in the men’s bathroom. There were holes in the plywood and if you stared straight through the toilet seats you could see your own reflection in the communal sewage well at the bottom. She made it beautiful. This beach was in a different phase than I’m used to seeing. The sand wasn’t fine granules that make you want to build castles and bury your feet. It was broken down bones with whole spines or smaller individual vertebrae that crunched beneath our feet as we tried to step around whole preserved fish that had been perfectly dried in the sun and salt. It stank. We did another set in front of rotting telephone poles sticking out of the water at dusk and a final set on a concrete slab that had collapsed years ago at the shore as the last rays of light disappeared behind the mountains. My webmaster was upset that we didn’t get to shoot with his samurai sword.<br /><br />Then we packed up in the dark and realized that Holly’s Volvo did not have 4-wheel drive. She was stuck in the bone-sand. My truck moved out with no problem but I didn’t have any way of pulling her out. She tried to get a tow service out but the road had no name and we didn’t know how to direct them to where we were so I drove her back the main road and entered a border patrol station from the wrong direction and they freaked out and yelled at me but helped us anyway. We drove back and ate Fig Newton’s and waited a couple of hours for the tow truck. We bonded some more. The tow truck finally showed up and I laughed. It was an F150. I had an F250 4x4. The difference was he had chains to attach to her car. He charged $300.<br /><br />I got back late. My alarm went off earlier than I would have liked because I had a signing in Riverside for Adam and Eve. Traffic sucked. It was technically two signings. I got home after Midnight. <br /><br />So today I get to relax. My call time tomorrow is 4:30am in Hollywood for a commercial I’m doing. I have to show up with red fingernails and expect not to be done before 8pm. My call time the next day is 7am in the desert for “The 8th day”, which means I’ll probably drive up Monday night and stay in a hotel. Then Wednesday morning the flight leaves at 7 am to take us on a four day signing tour in the northeast. I’ll fly home Sunday and Monday I’ll be back on set. I truly cherish today.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/7030098295259493833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=7030098295259493833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/7030098295259493833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/7030098295259493833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/11/ninjas-and-samurai-swords.html' title='Ninjas and Samurai Swords'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-8489303403239483359</id><published>2008-11-04T20:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T21:36:20.419-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Election Day</title><content type='html'>I was up late last night so I got to see the very beginning of today's election as booths were opening on the East Coast and CNN was covering it. The only other time I've felt I was experiencing history like this was on Sept. 11th as I watched metal and cement crumble and smoke like a Hollywood special effect. It didn't seem real. Today feels real. It's been pretty obvious that Obama had it for the last few weeks but today it was confirmed and when I logged onto the internet the top news story said "First African American President."<br /><br />Me? I didn't vote for him. Between him and McCain he's my first choice though. I was a fence sitter and Palin scared the shit out of me and McCain changed for the worse and Obama for the better as the campaigns drug on. I respect a man who adjusts his positions as he gains more knowledge or circumstances shift. He went from promising to get soldiers out immediately to getting them out when the time is right. I've never understood why the media demonizes flip-floppers. I want someone who changes as the issues change. It's vital to making informed choices. He didn't freak out and slam everything to a halt when the stock market lurched. I like that too.<br /><br />I don't like his fiscal policies. I don't think taking more money from tax payers is ever the correct decision. I think we spend the money we work our asses off for better than the men in suits who didn't have to lift a finger for it. I think we're just as likely to put it back into the economy as the government is. We're American after all. We spend.<br /><br />I do like that the world likes him. I think that will work miracles in foreign relations. It doesn't matter what you're saying if the country in question has a negative perception of you. I think Palin would have become an even larger caricature than Tina Fey already created and the administration would be the same laughingstock it is right now. We don't need mavericks we need reason.<br /><br />McCain didn't show reason at all. Picking a running mate because she has a vagina is selfish and impractical, especially considering how high the liklihood is that she would have actually had to step in for him. Especially picking an unknown vagina. He met her only two times before choosing her as his running mate. That tells me a lot about the decisions I don't want that man making for me or my country. Furthermore, he went against his principles by choosing her in the first place. He hates what she stands for and so did a whopping majority of the independent voters whose ear he initially had.<br /><br />Anyway I guess we'll see what happens. I don't think either candidate was ideal but I do agree that Obama was closer to it. Obama as an individual I have a lot of respect for. He overcame huge odds to get this job. Now let's hope he's cut out for it.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/8489303403239483359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=8489303403239483359' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/8489303403239483359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/8489303403239483359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/11/election-day.html' title='Election Day'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-3529836283101369481</id><published>2008-11-02T02:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T02:08:25.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Make Up</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/crop6-795449.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/crop6-795031.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I’ve learned that I hate heavy make up. I don’t like feeling like I can’t touch my face or seeing color before I see features when I look in the mirror. It’s cool for pictures, but so are uncomfortable positions and improbable outfits. In person it’s a bit much.<br /><br />Lately I’ve been on a light make up trend. I’m requesting it on set and resorting to lip gloss and tinted lotion at home. It’s given me a glimpse of how guys live: you get out of the shower, you dry off, you put on clothes, and you go. It’s nice.<br /><br />But tonight I screwed up. It’s been awhile since I put on fake lashes and it seems as if I’ve forgotten how. I tried to cover up one mistake with another and it turned into one very bad downward spiral to which I can promise there would have been no end had the club manager not shown up to take me to the feature. Obviously I had to time to wash it off and start over as I have done many many times in the past. So now I’m staring in the mirror and considering just going sans make up completely but it’s a dark club and it actually works with the black eye liner. Go figure.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/3529836283101369481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=3529836283101369481' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/3529836283101369481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/3529836283101369481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/11/make-up.html' title='Make Up'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-1207553602152487416</id><published>2008-11-01T04:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T04:22:33.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Costumes</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/hair-nation-003-735863.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/hair-nation-003-734998.JPG" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Well I’m sitting in the basement/feature room catching up on blogs and avoiding the dressing room because they made me judge the stripper Halloween costume contest and the ones who lost are not speaking to me. The ones who won are. You win some you lose some. Ha.<br /><br />There was one blond stripper-cop who was super friendly all night. Annoyingly friendly. Pushy. She tried to make me lace up her outfit as they were calling me on stage. Then during the costume contest she tried to rape me until she didn’t win and hasn’t made eye contact since. I feel used. It was a battle of wills though. Even if she’d had the best costume I wouldn’t have given her the award because I don’t like being seduced by people who don’t want to fuck me. It feels like trickery and if I were a man in this club I would scream. I gave first to Little Bo Peep. She really went all out.<br /><br />I also judged the customer costume contest. The man with the foil hat and end of days sign won hands down. His back said “ask me about fiat currency” with a bible verse written on the side. It doesn’t get much better than that. Speaking of good costumes, there wasn’t much to do today so my roadie and the club manager and I roamed the mall. It was mall-o-ween. The sign at the entrance said so. We determined that the best time to have a toddler is Halloween. There was one dressed as a skunk. His little skunk tail was taller than he was. There was a baby Nemo. There was a two year old pooh bear. And free candy everywhere. So not only were they as cute as they will ever be right then but they were all in extremely good moods. I pity the parents who get to deal with the sugar highs later. <br /><br />Side note: my dog is Tigger this year.<br /><br />And I’m a feature. So I don’t get to drink myself stupid in a slutty costume with bad lipstick somewhere in Hollywood but I can do it here in Albany minus the liquor abuse and subsequent hangover. That’s what they pay me for. I have to make a choice in the next fifteen minutes. I can be a nurse or a pirate or a French maid or a school girl or a flapper girl or a baseball player or a foot soldier or a sailor or batgirl. This is the last show of the night and the place died down after the contests so I don’t think it will matter too much what I choose. I just need to keep myself busy until the night is over so I can keep my mind off the random candy ready and waiting in quiet determination.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/1207553602152487416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=1207553602152487416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/1207553602152487416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/1207553602152487416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/11/halloween-costumes.html' title='Halloween Costumes'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-8842065118052349849</id><published>2008-10-29T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T00:03:49.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ugh.</title><content type='html'>Well I’m sick. It sucks. It’s been a long time since anything has knocked me on my ass but this one most definitely has. Yesterday I thought it was a hangover but hangovers are only supposed to get better as the day goes on. What’s the quote about feeling bad for sober people? They wake up in the morning and that’s the best they’re gonna feel all day.<br /><br />Personally it’s been a steady downhill trend for 48 hours now. Cold sweats, uncontrollable shivering, sensitivity to light and noise and the world in general. My hair hurts. Today was my one complete day off and I’m wasting it on warm blankets and Advil. Tomorrow I have a morning flight out to the east coast and I’m deathly afraid. If there is turbulence I think my brain might bleed.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/8842065118052349849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=8842065118052349849' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/8842065118052349849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/8842065118052349849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/10/ugh.html' title='ugh.'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-1894533666671082036</id><published>2008-10-28T02:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T02:32:50.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>when fuck ups are good</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/yawning-738458.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/yawning-738454.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Wow. Let me be honest for a second. I suck. I woke up at 8 am to get my cat to the vet to have his nads permanently detached. I felt for him but the pound gave him two options: euthanasia or life as a house eunich. From the vet's office I ran around tying up loose ends because I'm going to be gone all week on a feature. I had a couple of meetings, most notably one about a potential toy line through Topco. I had to go tanning and grab polaroid film and so on. Small tasks. I did this of course with a record setting hangover because as it turns out everything they say is true and the older I get the less invincible I become. I still feel like hell.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Between the meetings I picked up a drowsy cat and dropped him off then braved five o'clock traffic. I was home by seven and started catching up on laundry and packing. I took a short break to see Conte but generally have spent the remainder of the night getting my house in order. My friend Natalie has been staying with me. She was scheduled to get me to the airport at 7 am on the dot. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Natalie passed out a few hours ago. The alarms are set. My last load of laundry is in the dryer and everything is ready to go. Somewhere in there I took time to set up a Facebook account because I'm sick of hearing about the imposters adding my friends under my name. All I had to do was print out my flight info and go to bed. So I looked it up and confirmed that my flight was scheduled to leave at 8 am.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>....on Wednesday. Oops. I completely forgot that this is a three day feature instead of a four day. I didn't even open the freakin itinerary. By sheer stupidity I finally have managed to schedule in an entire day where I don't have to do anything or be anywhere. I'm not even sure what I'm going to do with myself. I'm stoked.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>So I'm thinking I'll go to the gym and then take Conte out on the trails and then maybe do something useless. I think I'll go to Barnes and Nobles. I'm resisting the urge to squeeze in an am video for the site. Work and play don't have defined lines in my life. Either way I'm sleeping in. All this excitement is keeping me up.</div></content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/1894533666671082036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=1894533666671082036' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/1894533666671082036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/1894533666671082036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/10/when-fuck-ups-are-good.html' title='when fuck ups are good'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-1465388996995334061</id><published>2008-10-24T04:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T04:41:49.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good Life</title><content type='html'>So it's 4:30 in the morning and I'm trying to figure out how three hours passed between my last feature show and now. I put a one sentence blog up on MikeSouth.com and I played with my new iPhone. There is still some unaccounted time though.<br /><br />We did go through one vintage bottle of wine and a series of Dave Chappelle episodes on YouTube. We did navigate the tour page on my website. Now I have two Playboy quality girls wrestling with the bottle cap on a pale ale with the brick siding on my house. I'm wondering how many men would kill me for my life if they thought they could get away with it.<br /><br />P.S. now they're wiping beer off their legs and tits.<br /><br />P.S.S. I'm going to bed<br /><br />P.S.S.S. They're coming with me.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/1465388996995334061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=1465388996995334061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/1465388996995334061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/1465388996995334061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/10/good-life.html' title='The Good Life'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-4387271717035070681</id><published>2008-10-16T14:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T15:08:39.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sacramento</title><content type='html'>So I've been hanging out in Sacramento all week and I'm here until Saturday. I can't believe how different this city seems in two years. I got to go to the Capital and listen to speech our lobbyist was giving but my ADD kicked in and I left early. Then I spent some time walking around downtown and the K street mall. It's depressing how high the vacancy rate is in the retail stores there. Makes it hard to forget the plunging economy. But damn the sales were good.<br /><br />Last night was gold. You guys will appreciate this one. I pulled the pretty blond girl that I posted a few weeks ago into bed with a pretty blond boy and my camcorder. This is true amateur content. It was her first time doing anything on camera, doing anything with a girl, and doing him. Unfortunately the lighting was hit and miss because it was unplanned. But she looks cool naked. I think you'll agree.<br /><br />Now I'm hanging out at my mom's office trying to discreetly update my porn site because I left my laptop charger at home. I should have a camera on this sitcom too. The place is pretty conservative. She took friday off so tomorrow I'm taking her to San Francisco in my gutless rental car. Fisherman's Wharf and clam chowder. It's a monumental experience every time.<br /><br />And then of course Saturday I'm doing the signing. That is why I'm up here after all. It's for the grand opening of the new Adam and Eve store. The address is 6099 San Juan Ave., Citrus Heights, CA 95610. I'll be there from 1-5 Pm and if you're the area you should come out.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/4387271717035070681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=4387271717035070681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/4387271717035070681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/4387271717035070681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/10/sacramento.html' title='Sacramento'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-7833381142145275915</id><published>2008-10-12T22:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T23:02:16.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'>West Virginia</title><content type='html'>Well well I’ve found myself on another signing. Today is West Virginia. We have a two hour drive ahead of us on the tour bus before our second appearance of the day. West Virginia reminds me of Albany reminds me of Louisville reminds me of Ohio. The landscape out here is all the same. Green everywhere with trees starting to turn orange and red. Growing up in California I remember the artwork that would go up in classrooms around this time of year. I remember thinking fall looks nothing like that. Fall looks exactly like that here. Same with winter in Rochester. Suddenly the Christmas lights on row after row of houses with inflatable snowmen in the yard and freckled kids in mittens and knitted hats throwing snow at each other was something more than a scene from “Home Alone” or an illustration in a children’s book. Very Norman Rockwell. It has a way of making you want to hurry up and settle down and attend PTA meetings and bake cupcakes. When people tell me they wouldn’t raise kids in LA I understand what they have in mind instead. <div><br /><br /><div><br />I did a one show feature at a strip club in Dayton the night I flew into Ohio for this trip. I did it because Tim and Felicia run the club and they asked nicely. They’ve been together for 14 years. They traveled together on her feature tours for 7 of those years as she rose in stardom on the xxx market. Now they’re married and have a 2 year old kid together. They’ll be comfortable for the rest of their lives and they’ll live happily ever after. That’s one hell of a good ending.</div><br /><br /><div><br />Honestly everything feels a bit warm and fuzzy and cliché right now as the bus is taking slow curves along the side of a mountain in an undeveloped all American landscape and the sun is streaming through the windows and the music is lazy with an easy beat. It could be Jewel or Fiona Apple or Norah Jones on the radio. Every time I see trails below us I ache for my horse and start thinking I really need to just take time to get him out there and just ride. LA isn’t meant for horses and the trails I’ve been taking run along the 134 fwy and cross metal bridges over a cement canal we call the Los Angeles River. I’m convinced if he can be calm there he can be calm anywhere. I can’t wait for my career to hit a point where I don’t have to live in LA anymore. There are a million places he’d rather live.</div></div></content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/7833381142145275915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=7833381142145275915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/7833381142145275915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/7833381142145275915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/10/west-virginia.html' title='West Virginia'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-8755781102291534392</id><published>2008-10-06T00:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T00:18:20.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'>airlines</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/miked2-708389.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/miked2-708288.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>The only airline I like is Southwest and frankly I don’t give two shits when I hear about the other airlines having financial problems. I understand why they do what they do from an economic point of view but I don’t agree with it. They crowd out new airlines from coming in and then they take advantage of the customers who are left to deal with them. I guarantee an up and coming airline would behave better. Southwest did.<br /><br />I had a round trip flight originally booked on American Airlines from LA to Dayton, OH and back for a store signing tour through the Midwest. Adam and Eve booked it and then realized at the last minute that they had me double booked on the day I was supposed to fly out. They decided to change it to a red eye that night after I got off set. But the cost to change the flight on American Airlines was higher than the cost to buy an entirely new flight on Delta. So Delta it was. And that sucked because Delta’s main hub is in Atlanta, GA and the only seats they had left were middle seats and the whole thing turned into a nine hour trip or so after we do all the math with the changing time zones back and forth and back again.<br /><br />But the important thing is I got there. We did the signing on the cool tour bus and we ate fattening food and we drank because that seems to be the only thing to do out here… which is sad because with all of the industry insiders and admirers you’d think there would have been some sex too. And then on the last night when I got back to my hotel room it dawned on me that my return flight may have been jeopardized when I didn’t take the arriving flight on American. It happened to me on Southwest once and all I had to do was call and they fixed it for no extra money and without an attitude. Stunning.<br /><br />So I called and a curt young lady told me that my flight was indeed cancelled. She said it was only a shell on their reservation list. Grayed out in a long list of black ones. I told her no problem, please just make it active again because I plan on being on it in the morning. And she tells me she can’t do that. I would have to purchase the ticket at the current price all over again. Oh yeah and they’re keeping the money from the original round trip purchase. No credit. So I ask her to please clarify because it’s sounding like we purchased the seat on that flight. They took the money in exchange for the seat. We did not cancel it. I am making it very clear that I intend to use the seat in question, but they won’t let me use the seat and they won’t refund the money. But they will sell us the seat in question again for an exorbitant price. She says yes. I ask for a manager.<br /><br />Well the manager took his sweet time getting on the phone. He was so incredibly busy at three in the morning that I eventually just hung up and put the burden on Adam and Eve. Of course Adam and Eve ran into the same foul problem with American Airlines so now I’m sitting in the airport waiting for my Continental flight, which I’m sure was not cheap but was cheaper than buying my original flight twice. And this last minute one way flight put me on the high risk list so I got patted down and searched. And they confiscated my shiny lotion. And that pisses me off more than anything because I have to buy the shit online and it’s not cheap and that was my last bottle. Then they patted me down again.<br /><br /><br /></div></content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/8755781102291534392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=8755781102291534392' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/8755781102291534392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/8755781102291534392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/10/airlines.html' title='airlines'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-5739993446544351931</id><published>2008-10-03T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T00:34:09.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RollerBus</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/ddgirls4-735531.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/ddgirls4-735528.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><div>Well Adam and Eve did some fancy maneuvering and switched my 8:30 am flight to 11:45 pm so I could make my 10:30 am call time and wrap their movie “Frisky Bizness.” The shoot went well. It was a Jim Malibu feature, which means there will be a good food service, reasonable calls times, and we’ll all be out before we turn into pumpkins at midnight. I got to remake the famous sock dance to an 80’s style beat. Definitely the highlight of the day. My left knee is already almost completely black because we experimented with various household substances to help my socks slide on the hardwood floors. Silicone spray and baby powder are both highly effective. I took one hard fall with each.<br /><br />After the movie wrapped I rushed home to pack and turn around and leave for the airport. The last minute flight change meant I got less than desirable seats. Try sleeping in a middle seat in the exit row (no reclining seats) non stop to Atlanta. No Bueno and no sleep.<br /><br />That was yesterday. The flight touched down around 7:09 local time and the connection left at 7:36. It was a quick flight to Dayton, Ohio from there. I wasn’t surprised when my bag didn’t show it’s smiling face on the carousel so I filled out the delivery form and was picked up at the curb in a giant tour bus with my image plastered all over it. That‘s one way to stroke an ego. Sharing the bus spotlight with me were Courtney Cummz, Ava Rose, Bree Olson, Alectra Blue, Eva Angelina, Teagan Presley, and Sunny Lane. We’re doing a signing tour for Roller Dollz and apparently we’ve taken the stance go big or go home.<br /><br />The bus dropped me off at the hotel where the others had already checked in last night and I got an hour and half of sleep before they pulled me out of bed kicking and screaming (slight exaggeration) and made me get ready for the signing. Then we played hurry up and wait until my bag arrived.<br /><br />So now we’re on a bus eating subway and talking porn. We’re about to take off but there is a large Midwestern woman with her kids taking pictures of the bus and wanting autographs. She promised to buy the movie. She’s quite aggressive so we signed the stuff to her kids. My scribbled signature and Courtney C. Best wishes and love always. She’ll figure it out when she gets home.</div></div></content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/5739993446544351931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=5739993446544351931' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/5739993446544351931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/5739993446544351931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/10/rollerbus.html' title='RollerBus'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-7826644247090709937</id><published>2008-09-30T00:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T01:06:00.437-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Double Booked</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/Kayden-Kross-Paulina-James-by-Martin-(186)-736080.JPG"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/Kayden-Kross-Paulina-James-by-Martin-(186)-735714.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It was another day that would have fit more comfortably into 32 hours rather than the 24 I was alloted. Last night an amateur masterpiece was created at the last minute. I blogged about it at <a href="http://www.penthousemagazine.com/">http://www.penthousemagazine.com/</a> if you want more detail but the gist of the matter is I needed hardcore so I made it at two in the morning. It's probably uploading to the site right now. Fresh off the press. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Between shooting the content, editing it, uploading it to the server, and blogging about it all I didn't get to bed until somewhere between 3 and 4 in the morning. It was sadly the same morning the gardeners were scheduled to come at 8 so that was poor timing. Then I was woken up again at 10 by my alarm because I was booked with FM Concepts today. It is safe to say FM Concepts is the last company I will still do softcore and/or halfday shoots for. I've already figured out it is not the best use of my time for the money but it's an easy shoot and I like the people. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>If you aren't familiar with the company, they run a pack of fetish sites with bondage, foot worship, costume, and tickling themes. Today they had a second girl scheduled as well. Her name is Claire and she is the first girl in a long time who has been able to make me feel inexperienced. That almost feels like too modest a description. I felt like a virgin. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>She lives "the lifestyle". Lifestylers call non-lifestlyers vanilla. I fall somewhere in the middle as far as I know but it may be one of those either/or deals in which case I'm a vanilla outcast. She was quite good at tying people up. Too good. She tied up all ten of my toes individually and with perfect symmetry. I was impressed. The damn rope went all the way up to my knees. As she manuevered around me I noticed she has scars down her back from hanging on hooks and six heavy silver rings in her labia. This was not a chick to fuck with. Then she hog tied me and shoved her feet in my mouth. It was strangely not gross. In fact, at the risk of sounding like a freak, it was a little hot. Here's why: when I bit her feet she came. Full body shakes. I felt like a very accomplished man with a large dick and fat wallet and at least six if not eight defined abs. But I was not. I was a little blond girl with my fingers tied to my toes. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>After leaving the shoot I rushed over to Kinko's to take care of a bunch of overdue contracts. I had four feature contracts and one for Adultcon that all needed to be printed out, signed, and faxed back ASAP. I really need to get a fax machine. But then I have to get a home phone line. It's a hassle. I also had to jump on the usual routine: post office, bank, frozen yogurt. I am religious about this schedule in this order. From there I went home to start sorting through an ambushed inbox and realized I need to grow a twin because I'm double booked on 3 days next month. The biggest obstacle would be this immediate Wednesday. My flight to Indiana for the Rollerdollz signing tour leaves at 8:30 in the morning. And my call time for Adam and Eve's feature, "Frisky Business," is 10:30 am. In LA. I'm going to have to tell Adam and Eve that I'm already booked that day with Adam and Eve. They can fight over me.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>From there I jumped in the shower so I could get a spray tan for tomorrow's shoot and then went down to the ranch to take care of Conte and pay his nanny. Yes. My horse has a nanny. Because I'm a workaholic mom and he needs attention. Actually it's a manny and all he does is ride Conte on days that I can't.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Then I had to run up to Chatsworth for a dinner meeting with an editor I plan on working with. I love sitting down with people who have spent the last 20 years in porn. The stories are so much less mild. In fact the stories do a lot of justice to the stereotypes that haven't died yet. Gut wrenchingly good. That of course took two hours and now I'm home waiting for my newest bit of BTS to export to the desktop so I can burn it to a disk and send it off. There is never enough content. Speaking of which I just got off the phone with a photographer I am now scheduled to shoot with on the 21st and he just sent me a text confirming the make up artist's availability. We're in business.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And that story catches us up with the present, where I now sit blogging about it all.</div></content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/7826644247090709937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=7826644247090709937' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/7826644247090709937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/7826644247090709937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/09/double-booked.html' title='Double Booked'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-580560999529179985</id><published>2008-09-27T02:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T03:52:38.131-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Help Wanted</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/myspace1-731050.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/myspace1-731045.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Well hey it's 2:30 in the morning and I'm fighting with YouTube. Well, not fighting per se, just struggling with technology. Basically it's telling me my video uploaded but it's not showing it on the page. It's lying to me.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And I'm sick of it. There isn't enough time in the day to do everything I want to do right now, much less do it four times, as I have with this video clip. I'm toggling between two computers. I'm staying on top of four email accounts. I feel like myspace deserves a fresh blog. Penthouse is overdue for a fresh blog. I'm behind on Adult Stars Magazine too. And Adam and Eve and Xcritic. They don't have deadlines but I'm still self inflicting the guilt. And I was recently asked to do a guest blog for another publication. And the one for Mike South has been half finished for three days now. Tomorrow is the Pirates premiere for Digital Playground. I'm doing interviews on the red carpet. I spent two hours finding a dress and it's perfect. So are the other two I found. I killed three birds with one stone. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>There are four feature dancing contracts in my inbox that I need to sign and return to three different people. And the contract for Adultcon because god dammit I'm going to that and I'm taking Veronique Vega with me. Speaking of which, one of my youtube videos finally posted and she's in it. Go V squared. The second one is uploading with 48 minutes remaining. It's all too familiar but I'm putting up with it because this one needs to be seen.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And I just ran out of disks to burn. Adam and Eve got a video blog section going for me and I need to mail off the videos. But I need to burn them first. And when I finally get to the post office I need to mail them some reciepts too. And check on the status of another package they sent weeks ago. And I feel like a real pornstar now because I've been getting a good amount of fan mail to my PO Box. Now I just have to respond to it. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>But on the bright side I finally got my truck taken care of today. The oil change was five thousand miles overdue. I've really been meaning to get on that. And I had it washed for the second time since I bought it in December. It was during that time that I scheduled two of the features and checked my voicemail (45 new) and called my mom to verify that I am in fact still alive. They were kind enough to inform me that my own freakin dealership put the wrong oil in my diesel truck last time and that was slightly irritating but fuck it, I'll never remember to call and complain. I also used that time to book Monday, which had been previously booked, then cancelled, then two other bookings came up and I went with FM Concepts because I just plain like them. Speaking of bondage, I have two locations ready and one girl. I need to book that too.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The moral of the story? I used to make fun of pornstars who hired assistants. They'd bring them on set and the girl would invariably sit around all day making friends with the make up artists and generally doing nothing else. It was all so pointless. But I want one!! I want to be able to do the stuff only I can do and pay someone else to do the stuff anyone can do so I have more time to do more stuff only I can do. The head hunt begins.</div></content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/580560999529179985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=580560999529179985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/580560999529179985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/580560999529179985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/09/help-wanted.html' title='Help Wanted'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-6327404849584598387</id><published>2008-09-21T22:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T23:01:25.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Intruders</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/Toco-Toucan-730491.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/Toco-Toucan-730485.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Holy Shit. I'm not sleeping at my house tonight. The spider thing has gotten to me. I came home and there was a pretty sizeable web in the lower corner of my entry way. No big deal right? I clean these things up all the time. A quick swipe of the broom should do it.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>But there were bird feathers in the web. First of all, how did a bird get in my house? That alone is a valid question. But more importantly, what is big enough to eat a fucking bird! I cleaned the place top to bottom. No godzilla spiders have shown themselves yet... but I don't want to lose a digit in my sleep because the thing got that 4th meal craving that Taco Bell won't stop pushing. It's just not worth the risk.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And I know I'm over reacting. If a spider really did eat a bird in my house there would be a little webbed husk with a beak poking out of it or something to that effect. But maybe not. Spiders clean their webs. Maybe it happened the day I left and the culprit had all weekend to dispose of the remains. And Jesus Christ I have to find the opening that giant spiders and small birds are using as an entrance to my house. What else is getting in? This whole situation is unsettling.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And the poor bird... </div><br /><div></div></content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/6327404849584598387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=6327404849584598387' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/6327404849584598387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/6327404849584598387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/09/intruders.html' title='Intruders'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-2916684619014977756</id><published>2008-09-20T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T21:59:09.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>giant spiders and other hazards of the job</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/butt-pic-753509.JPG"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/butt-pic-751670.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Another day in Tucson. The last day. I made a discovery at IHOP involving pumpkin spice pancakes. I struck gold. Consider this my personal endorsement. Then I made an even bigger discovery--that other cool brunette from the strip club that I wanted to shoot. We shot. </div><div><br />We took her out to the desert at sunset. I did one set in black cowboy boots, a black belt, and a thong. It was just rocks and sand and cacti and an orange stripe in the sky. She was next in sheepskin boots and a white thong. She has the body of a runway model and big dark doe eyes. Pictures to come of course.<br /></div><div><br />She wants to come out to LA to shoot. I’m thinking of all the photographers I first shot with and I can’t wait to bring her to them. They’ll probably all send me Christmas cards. She’s saying all the things I first said when I got started and she seems to be on top of her game. I can’t believe how much untapped talent is out there. I was told today that the world is my oyster. Trite enough, but when I look at it in this way it’s true.<br /></div><div><br />The first girl I shot is already having doubts about whether she wants to shoot anymore. I get it. It’s a big jump and once you’re in you might as well make the most of it because it will always be there. I’ve never regretted my choice for a second but I’ve met girls who have. At least with stripping you can quit one day and no one in the future will ever know you did it. It’s sad that sex is so demonized in this culture. It’s assumed that if you work in the sex industry you are somehow a second class citizen. You must be defective in some way. Abused. Stupid. Substance dependent. Out of options.<br /></div><div><br />But I love my job and it’s hard to see it through their eyes so in a way I’m blissfully ignorant. I was more worried about the size of the spider I almost ran into than the model flip flopping. It looks exactly like the spider that keeps stringing a web across my walkway. Only the desert one was on steroids. But I keep walking into the one across my walkway and now that I’ve had a closer look at this species I’m thinking I’m not going to be using my walkway anymore. There is no other way to my front door though. Dilemma.</div><div><br /><br />I’m off to my last feature show now. Flight leaves at 10 am. I’m looking forward to being home for a few days.</div></content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/2916684619014977756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=2916684619014977756' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/2916684619014977756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/2916684619014977756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/09/giant-spiders-and-other-hazards-of-job.html' title='giant spiders and other hazards of the job'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-1080564659608794108</id><published>2008-09-19T04:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T06:26:15.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here is that hot girl that I won't shut up about.</title><content type='html'><div><br /><br /><div>OK I tried posting a picture in the forum but it wouldn't take so here she is. Let me know what you think.</div><div> </div></div><br /><p><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/shannonanddani-717563.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/shannonanddani-717558.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/shannonanddani-717563.jpg"></a></p><p><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/shannonanddani-717563.jpg"></a> </p><p><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/shannonanddani-717563.jpg"></a> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>(she's the blond but I want to shoot the brunette t<a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/shannon-752952.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/shannon-752950.jpg" border="0" /></a>oo.)</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p></content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/1080564659608794108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=1080564659608794108' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/1080564659608794108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/1080564659608794108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/09/here-is-that-hot-girl-that-i-wont-shut.html' title='Here is that hot girl that I won't shut up about.'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-3685637264107211677</id><published>2008-09-19T04:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T04:08:52.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Workaholics Anonymous</title><content type='html'><a href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/myspacebymartin-708766.jpg"><img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/myspacebymartin-708754.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br />My website is my new favorite hobby and if I could describe myself in one word I would say workaholic without any thought. White spots on my calendar give me anxiety and I fill them in. Content shoots. Trade shoots. Magazine shoots. Promo shoots. Video shoots. Feature tours. Hosting. Conventions and award shows and store signings and industry parties. And the upkeep in between: gym, hair, nails, wardrobe, travel and scheduling. And blogs. I’ve been slacking on those lately.</div><br /><div><br />I’ve been dealing with a lot of bullshit in my personal life. And now a few gossip sites in this industry have decided to pull it into my public life. I can’t talk about it and that kills me. My fingers are burning and I want nothing more than to lay it out there. Rather than doing anything about it though I jumped on a place to Tucson for a feature. Completely off subject I want it to be known that the fucking plane did an emergency landing and that was not fun. We took a different plane instead. </div><br /><div><br />I spent most of today catching up on sleep that was weeks overdue. I had two shows tonight and managed to sneak in an amateur set for the site in between. Then I managed to sneak an amateur girl into the amateur set and that made my day. She is a lanky brunette and words cannot do justice to the scope of those legs. I shot half of the set with her then stepped aside to let her shine on the stairs. We did low angle shots to accentuate this gift. I’m still a little slack jawed over it. </div><br /><div><br />Then after the second show I found another gem. She used to model as a kid but hasn’t in years. She’s also brunette and lanky and I have big things in mind for her. I’m thinking I want to drag her into the desert with me and throw her out there in a pair of boots and her birthday suit. I love her look. I can see how people get addicted to porn. I’m halfway there on the production side of it.</div><br /><div><br />I think I can really make something out of this advantage I have as a female traveling from strip club to strip club. There is a world of amateur talent out there and I have a better shot at approaching them than your average middle aged male agent. I can answer their questions from a personal side and I can verify or bust all of the things they believe about porn. Plus I’m walking proof that the money is good and the work is fun. Did I mention there was a third girl who was interested in shooting hardcore video? Cute as a button.</div><br /><div><br />So now I’m back in the hotel room with a bag of fast food that I would never have even considered if option B existed. I’m scrolling through pictures of my amateur discovery and checking small tasks off a to-do list. Catch up on blogs: Check.</div></content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/3685637264107211677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=3685637264107211677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/3685637264107211677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/3685637264107211677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/09/workaholics-anonymous.html' title='Workaholics Anonymous'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5617453347460934698.post-7467249497442836447</id><published>2008-09-15T03:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T04:47:52.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Again</title><content type='html'><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/IMG_0306-769112.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://www.clubkayden.com/uploaded_images/IMG_0306-768600.JPG" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I'm back from Exxxotica New York and my sleep schedule has officially been irrevocably harmed. That would explain me blogging at 3:28 am. Plus there was the part where I slept on the plane the whole way back. I'm actually nervous about how late I'll end up sleeping in. I use my cell phone as my alarm clock but there was an incident earlier and now I need a new cell phone too. Lately the phone has been stubborn. I never used to have issues getting full service anywhere in Southern California but now I can't even get one bar in my own home. Tonight was the last straw. The phone may have jumped out of my hand and the wall may have tried unsuccessfully to catch it but the floor stepped in and cradled the fall. That's the step by step replay. The thing is in a million tiny pieces. My contract is up with T-mobile this month anyway. I've been wanting the iPhone and I've resigned to accept my phone temper tantrum as a sign that I should get it. <div><br /></div><div>We are doing the official launch on the site for my birthday (which I just noticed is now today). The first original professional boy/girl scene that I did is now safely in my web designer's hands. It's going up on Wednesday. The masturbation scene that went up today was done with the same group of people and I'm really happy with how it turned out. I'm slowly turning this site into the central focus of everything I do. I have shoots booked all the way through November right now and I spent a lot of the convention making friends with girls I wanted to shoot. Audrey Bitoni is now on my list. She's a stunner. Sunny Lane of course but she's been on my list for awhile. I'm chomping at the bit to get me some Sunny Leone... some things never change. On the 16th I have a shoot scheduled with an amazing photographer. We're doing two glamour solos and one boy/girl all with matching videos. The boy is the good sir Nick Manning. And we're doing at least one set with the dirty make up in the picture I posted above. I can't explain it but I like it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm most excited about a little blond girl I met back in May. She is a perfect 10. All natural. Blonde. We're flying her out to do her first photo shoot at the end of the month. I'm hoping to make her a regular on this site. If she puts energy into it I think she would go far in this industry. Anyway from here on out I think I'll be struggling to keep a delicate balance between working my ass off and over-working. </div></content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/7467249497442836447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5617453347460934698&postID=7467249497442836447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/7467249497442836447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5617453347460934698/posts/default/7467249497442836447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.clubkayden.com/2008/09/home-again.html' title='Home Again'/><author><name>Kayden Kross</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04858946967818508410</uri><email>kaydenblog@gmail.com</email></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>