The dreadful rumor has now turned into official news: Sasha Grey is done with the porn industry. It didn’t come up as such a shock, as we all knew she had tip-toed around the X-rated area for a while. Still, we couldn’t let her go without paying her our last respects, as she has reached us, quite intimately sometimes. The emo boys from Le Tag share with you their own Sasha experience, with a lot of decency and no pretense whatsoever.
Farewell Sasha, I loved you. Yes, I used to love you. It was all platonic, when others were screwing you hard. I was loving you silently, like some pray to the Virgin Mary, even though I knew you weren’t quite like her anymore. I adulated you like you were my own daughter, adding up to this feeling the crave of fucking you without the risk of ending up in jail. I introduced you to my mum and my mates. She disapproved your job, they made fun of your face. You bunch of philistines, you don’t know shit! So I would stand up for your honor, even though you didn’t need my frail arms. Sasha, Sasha, if only you knew how much you meant to me.
And all of a sudden, everything changed. You came into my life. Certainly not the way I wish you had, though. Instead of hopping into my bed to watch Sunday morning cartoons with me, you started crashing at my friend’s parties. The ones I would spend watching Entourage, hanging out with those fictional douches with golden hearts, those occasions where I could fulfill my heterosexual character. At first, I let this happen, even with a slight satisfaction. But you ruined everything. « Sasha Grey is the worst thing to happen to Entourage ». It hurts to tell you that, but they were right. You did try to save face exhibiting your hairy sex, but the harm was done. Your intrigue stuck in a hazy drama, you reminded me how tough it is to share my life with a porn star. I was trying to forget about it, keep faith in us, but you smashed it all. Because of you, I can no longer dream of tying the knot with Jade Laroche. I loved you, I still do and always will. But I will never forgive you.
Sasha, Sasha, why hast thou forsaken me? Since our break-up, there’s only one of your video I can bring myself up watching without any regrets. Because that’s where you express everything I cherished about you, brutalized in the radiant sweat of a threesome. Even more because I know that by licking on that wall James Deen’s spit, your playful smile is aimed towards my dick.
The first time I saw her must have been when I had just moved out from my parent’s house, in that small crib on the second floor. The door didn’t lock properly. She came knocking for something like salt or a can-opener, I wasn’t sure, I only had a fork for my plate of pasta. The only things I would heard from her later on were the sounds she made in her apartment. A neighbor’s life consisting of hellos in the hallways, some quick glances when you’re holding the door for her as she’s carrying her trash or a new boyfriend, wearing my boxers most of the time, shared toilets, the usual stuff.
Then this one day there was a power cut in the whole building, everyone ended up in the dark hallways. I was playing Mario Kart. The boldest dudes went downstairs in the basement to check the meter, and the two of us stayed under the roofs, she was wearing a nightie and I admit I couldn’t take my eyes off her thighs, I had the perfect angle of view. Rainbow Road with closed eyes, I pictured myself inside her many times. When the light came back, I was pretty confident things were gonna go my way… But the door slammed shut, I was back to my everyday life, my computer too, which had just rebooted. The girl next door didn’t invite herself here, but thank god, you could always count on Sasha.
I never was a hardcore Sasha enthusiast. I would lie if I said I didn’t carry a mild attraction for her ultimate girl next door vibe, but she became too soon the porn star you had to talk about for the hater kind of guy I am. But I have to admit that she was the girl that allowed people to talk about porn in an unhinbited manner. Whether it’s a positive or a negative fact, I leave that to the porn theorists, still I reckon that thanks to her, many more people felt okay discussing double penetration while casually drinking gin & tonics. I don’t really know how I feel about her quitting porn. She hasn’t made many movies this last couple of years, but maybe her will to live was to be the outsider pornstar. Without that status, she might lose what made her stand out.
Sasha, first of all, thanks for replacing Distel* and his abnormaly white teeth in my kid-from-the-80’s imagination. To be honest, this would have been enough to assure you a place in my heart until my last breath. But you did have the brilliant idea to make deep-throating your career, ass to mouth your signature, and your tiny tits your trademark. Sasha, you could give me a hard-on quicker than any of my hottest girlfriends, but you decided it wasn’t enough, that you needed to offer us hard-ons in the brain as well, erect our minds metaphysically, make us cum all over our braincase. For your first raid outside DPA, you chose Soderbergh, as much as he chose you, and then you very seriously made fun of yourself in a season of Entourage that would have been unbelievably dull if it wasn’t for you. But at the end of the day, what fascinates me about you Sasha, is your pornstar career, how you fully embraced it, living as sincerely as possible, and that more than any one, you loved your craft. People highlight how smart you are, your culture, your open-mindedness. I find it so cliché. So overrated. What made us crazy about you, beautiful, was that you porn under your skin and were never ashamed of it. You’re the ultimate libertatian icon, a synthesis of debauchery. And that’s what I think makes us all step up for you today : you’re the real deal, Sasha.
* : Sacha Distel is a famous albeit completely has-been french singer.
Sasha Grey, aka the cerebral pornstar. That’s how I first found out about you, when my youporn adventures were making me think that the pornsphere was a parallel universe inhabited by filthy brainless freaks. I had heard about you before, the smart chick who digs philosophy. I wanted to know more, and I ended up on your alt-porn website, a complete novelty for a 20 year old dude. Even though later on, I found out that your references were not deeper than the ones of a first-year contemporary literature student, I was still under the spell of the magical combo of a delicate character and a first-class ass. Ambassador of the BDSM, Sacha led me to my first encounter with Kink.com, and even if she didn’t turn me into a full S&M addict, I have to admit that’s where I got infatuated with the very depths of the bizarre. So Sasha, thanks for the ride, it was a lot of fun. It would be a lie to say I’m one of your dearest fans, but you did play a part in my pervert life.
Even with her ongoing quoting of Godard and most aggressive arty position, Sasha did not manage to make us forget about her outstanding capacity of getting fucked in every holes. But she did manage to escape her incredible porn career to flirt with some more official and softer areas of the Hollywood film industry.
My first encounter with her was a shock. It was in Miami in 2007, where I was hanging out lonely, bored with the Floridian shallowness. I needed air, I needed something new, and once again the screen of my antic Dell laptop came to the rescue. A clever comrade, like some kind of evil genius spilling from a Jägermeister bottle, put a weighty dose of first-class US porn in my hungry hard drive. Innocently (or not) I indulged in a video named « 18 Years Old – Sasha », and the rest is history…
It was a blow, hitting me over the head, a Ballard-like crash. As soon as I got out of my old Mustang shell, I would go back straight to it, heedlessly, craving for my Sasha fix, the 18 year-old soon-to-be icon, the girl next-door, poorly dressed, kind of cute but not that much, and her mocking eyes, smudged mascara… God how dirty were you my poor sweetie, spoiled by an army of dicks eager to taste California’s finest flava. No wonder your dirty talk became legendary, sorry but as for me, I would put you on mute like I were gagging you, otherwise I simply couldn’t focus.
I’m not gonna cry over you, I almost OD’d on you, I made myself sick, I moved on to other things, other nymphets, less charismatic ones for sure, but much more reassuring. Flirting with an idol has some tough drawbacks, she was not mine anymore. Because Sasha is now in the public domain.
You & I, we certainly had a rocky relationship. You were impersonating the dirty mainstream dark side of the xtubes when I for myself, was craving for tenderness. Your wild gang-bangs were hurting me, I didn’t want to be the number 7 of a team of dummies high on viagra. This may be what they call love, I wanted you to be mine and you’d rather be unfaithful, running after guys with monster cocks.
But one day I came across Malice in Lalaland and you became a new person to me. Natural and stunning with your tiny bouncy ass to play with. You neglected hardcore for intensity, and the only dilatation left was the one of my eyes. I wanted to take your hand and lead you to my bedroom, then screw you like an ex you’ve forgotten about too quickly. This body you can shape with your hands, this face that’s been called dirty but that is only the reflection of true beauty.
You left too early, I had only just met you. We could have lived a lovely story, drifting away from my preconceptions and from your cult of performance. It would have been a friendship with the occasional slip-ups and awkward smiles; a burgeoning love. We were born the same day, natives of Pisces carry passion on their backs and springtime is their ocean, but you decided to leave me there and swim in another direction. I have tears in my eyes, like when you step in at the exact moment the curtain is being drawn.