With all the ranting and raving I do about the crazy girls in this biz, I really don’t say much about the dudes…who might be even crazier.

I don’t talk much about the Stunt Cocks — cause let’s face it — almost on one cares about them. I’m sure there’s a handful of fans who pay some attention, but no where near the amount the average Stunt Cock thinks. And with the exception of maybe 3 or 4 Stunt Cocks in the history of the biz (John Holmes, Peter North, Ron Jeremy, and now, James Deen), none of these dudes really even deserve a name.

OK. Add Manuel…and maybe Nacho. Vince Voyeur? John Leslie? PT? Lex Steele? Dingo?

Don’t get me wrong. I could never be a Stunt Cock. There’s no way I could walk on to some director’s set, meet a Porno Princess, and drill her for 30 or 40 minutes while the camera rolls (after taking pictures, too). I’d either lose my nut (in a matter of minutes), if I could even get my totally average ween up at all. So, when I say these dudes don’t deserve a name, it’s not due to to anything more than this: fans wanna see, hear, and feel the girls.

They don’t want to hear Stunt Cock, listen to Stunt Cock commentary and/or jokes, and they certainly don’t want to hear Stunt Cock blow his load. Which why I said they don’t really need a name, and why I don’t really talk about them — until now. So, as I sit here, watching a Led Zeppelin show (1970’s Royal Albert Hall from the DVD set), I thought I’d tell ya a Stunt Cock story.

Cause I have so many.

I could tell you about Paranoid Schizo Stunt Cock, who once told me I wear t-shirts to purposefully distract him to the point of failure. “Which t-shirts, exactly?” I asked. He replied, “you know which ones!” I said, “why would I want you to fail on my set when I have to turn this in to my producer? If you fail, I fail…and none of us will get paid.” He couldn’t really answer that…but it didn’t stop him from texting me the next morning at 5am to let me know he was across the street from my studio, and “didn’t know what he was about to do.”

I could tell you about Angry Stunt Cock, who showed up an hour late for a blow bang. “You’re over an hour late, bro…sorry. We started without you. Maybe next time.” He yelled, “YOU TOLD ME TO BE HERE AT 12!” I said, “no, I didn’t.” He screamed the same thing at me again…just in case I didn’t hear him the first time. “I sent out a group text to everyone. You and the other 8 guys. How did they all manage to make it on time?” He left angry, and then continued to fight with me over that one for weeks. And weeks. Via calls and text messages. Before he finally just left me alone.

I could tell you about Whispering Stunt Cock who called me one cold winter day and told me to leave LA immediately. “Why?” I asked. “Cause some serious shit is gonna go down.” I asked, “what kind of serious shit?” He replied, “mass power outages. Then riots. Then murderous rampages that will cost thousands of lives. It’ll be bloody and brutal. Please leave Billy. I’m telling you this cause I care about you.” I said, “I appreciate your care. When will this happen exactly?” He answered, “immediately after the Super Bowl.” So I said, “when this doesn’t happen, is it OK to give you shit about this phone call…and the fact you’re whispering all this information to me?” Lowering the whisper even more, I could barely hear “Yes”.

I could tell you that Whispering Stunt Cock showed up at my studio, not long after the Superbowl, begging me to put down my camera and quit porn, cause he just had a conversation with God. “You just spoke with God?” I asked. “Yes,” he said. This time without whispering. I asked, “and God told you to tell me to quit porn?” He answered, “yes. He wants Spring Thomas to quit, too.” Then he sprinted into my studio, where I was about to shoot a 10-man blowbang, and he started asking everyone to leave. Which is when I asked him to leave. Which he did. Which, to this day, I can’t believe he did…and I only had to ask him to leave once.

Which is my cheap segue into the story I really wanna tell you, cause it just happened the other day. This is the story of Mentally Challenged Stunt Cock. I’ve decided to name him that because I think he may be. How else would you explain someone showing up late — and with a civilian girl — after years and years of being told specifically not to? This isn’t an exaggeration. Since 2006, when he first did it, I said, “Why are you bringing three girls to set today?” He replied, “These are nice, sweet girls.” I said, “I didn’t ask you that. No more bringing strangers to my set. EVER.” And then, as the years raced by, there would be times when he’d only show up late. Then with girls and late. Then just late. Then late, with girls. Then just late. Over and over and over: always late, sometimes with a girl…or girls. And looking back at it all now, I’m at fault for letting it go on as long as I did…but last week I decided it was over. When he walked in late with his newest girl, I put my foot down. “Leave,” I said. Mentally Challenged Stunt Cock refused. We went back and forth another 10 minutes or so.

“Leave.” “No.” “Leave.” “No.”

It didn’t matter if I yelled LEAVE or not, he wasn’t going anywhere. It was another one of those crazy blow bangs, so I pulled the shoot. “Everyone go home,” I said. “No shoot today.”

This is when the group turned on him, which I knew would happen. I was secretly hoping someone would take a swing at him, but no such luck. But as the yelling continued, Mentally Challenged Stunt Cock finally had had enough. “I’m going out to my car and getting my gun, and when I get back here I’m shooting the place up.” Which is when Porno Princess started crying.

I didn’t take his threat seriously, but that didn’t stop me from dialing 911. What if today was The Day? What if he decided it was his turn to pull a Steve Driver? That’s something I couldn’t have on my conscience.

“I’m calling the cops, please leave.” He said, “I’m calling the cops, too!” I said, “That’s interesting. Let’s see…you’re trespassing and you just made a terroristic threat. I’ve done nothing but ask you to leave after you’ve done something I’ve asked you not to do for 6 or 7 years.”

Mentally Challenged Stunt Cock finally did leave my studio, but he didn’t go home. And when the cops showed, he did too. Which is when he shouted, “There he is, officers! There’s Billy Watson! He’s the one who’s shooting underage girls! You also might want to check for his shooting permits!”

I forgot to mention that, before the cops showed, Mentally Challenged Stunt Cock texted me: The cops are on their way! I will guide them to ur studio. U are shooting minors, u don’t have a permit and I wanna use a condom

When I got it, I didn’t think Mentally Challenged Stunt Cock would really do that…but he did. In fact, the first two squads that arrived were responding to Mentally Challenged Stunt Cock’s 911 call. How do I know that? Cause they told me. “Hello Officers. My name is Billy Watson. I was the one who called 911. That individual refused to leave my workplace and told everyone here he was going to shoot the place up.” Officer Friendly said, “We’re not responding to your call. We’re responding to his. We need to see her ID” and the officer pointed at Porno Princess. (She’s 27).

A couple more squads pulled up, and they were responding to me, and it didn’t take too long for LAPD to figure out who was lying…and who was telling the truth. Hours later, Mentally Challenged Stunt Cock was still dealing with cops as his female friend cried. “The lady has requested we take her back to the station,” Officer Friendly told me after I asked what was up, “so a friend or family member can come get her.” A few minutes later, I peered out me door, and everyone was gone.

Some good came from all this: Permits are on the way, and I’ve just added one more person to the list of people who are permanently banned from my set. It’s a list that’s three names long, which is one less that the four I’ve just told you about.