Ulana called, checking in, and breaking up the monotony of my shallow and dark misery:
“Things have gotten out of hand,” she said about her cowboy models and her pictorial book project. “They sleep together all the time. They have orgies whenever they want. I either have to have a meeting and set new boundaries or fire them all.”
She rambled about the cowboys for twenty minutes, using vulgar phrases: a blowjob on the patio; f*****g in the closet whenever they can; spraying their loads on each other in the bathroom like f*****g animals; jacking each other off during our ten-minute breaks on-set; unbelievable actions that only happen in XXX films; atrocities for me; unprofessional horndogs. “It’s a free-for-all in my studio almost all the time, Niall! Things have got to change! They must!”
