As Holodex slowly began to take shape, it was clear the idea had potential—but potential doesn’t always pay the bills. Despite my best efforts, the page views weren’t high enough to generate significant income. Well, people just rarely pay for porn these days, so it was an uphill struggle. It felt like pushing a boulder uphill, and the weight of trying to make it all work was becoming harder to bear.

Amid this frustration, I stumbled upon an idea that seemed like a shortcut to success: PornModelHouse.com. The concept was simple but compelling—a platform showcasing all the behind-the-scenes (BTS) content I’d gathered during my time working with the industry. The material I had was raw, authentic, and intimate in a way that traditional productions could never replicate. I believed it could be a hit.

At the time, it felt like a stroke of genius. People love BTS content—it humanises the performers and gives fans a glimpse into the lives of the people they admire. I thought I could create a niche, something unique to set me apart in a sea of adult entertainment websites.

But looking back, it was a poor move.

I poured my energy into building and launching PornModelHouse.com, splitting my focus and diverting resources away from Holodex. Instead of doubling down on the platform that could have been a game-changer, I spread myself too thin, trying to make both projects work.

PornModelHouse had its moments. There was some interest, a bit of buzz, and the BTS content did resonate with a niche audience. But it didn’t take off in the way I had hoped. Worse, it took my attention away from Holodex at a critical time—a time when it desperately needed nurturing, refinement, and strategic marketing.

It was a classic case of chasing two rabbits and catching neither.

In hindsight, the lesson is painfully clear: focus is everything. Distraction, no matter how enticing it seems in the moment, can be the death knell of progress. Holodex had a solid foundation, and if I had stayed committed to it, who knows how much further it could have gone during that crucial period?

The experience taught me the value of staying the course, even when things seem slow or stagnant. Building something great takes time, patience, and undivided attention. It’s a lesson I had to learn the hard way, but one that would shape my approach to every project from that point forward.

Life in a porn mansion is as bizarre as it sounds, filled with moments that could easily be mistaken for scenes in a dark comedy. One of the best examples I can recall happened after a Christmas party. We were all laughing and tipsy, making our way back to the model house, only to find a note stuck on the door.

“Oh, Derek,” I thought, shaking my head and laughing. His notes were a thing of legend—always written in that blend of exasperation and authority. This one was no different. In bold, frustrated letters, it pleaded with the girls to please stop squirting on cam shows. He was, of course, dead serious. But did he really think a passive-aggressive note would stop this crowd?

The irony was, I understood the frustration behind it. For better or worse, I was often the guy controlling the cameras during these shows. When you’re behind the scenes, the glamor peels away quickly, leaving behind the raw chaos of pandering to hundreds of viewers, each with their own loud, explicit requests. It was a far cry from erotic—it felt more like stage management in an adult circus.

The audience would occasionally throw insults my way, calling me “gay” for being in the room but not actively participating. It always amused me—the idea that being surrounded by naked women but not joining in made me suspect. As if restraint was more unnatural than performance.

But then there were the performers, these fearless sexual dynamos who treated boundaries more like suggestions. Amy Brooke, for instance, was a legend. A sign like Derek’s was just fuel for her playful defiance. “Oh, I’m not trying to squirt everywhere,” she’d say with a grin, as she aimed deliberately, almost gleefully, like some twisted game of Whack-a-Mole—with me as the target.

We tried to manage the situation as best we could. Sheets were laid down, cleanup routines were adjusted, but Amy wasn’t deterred. She wasn’t the only one, either—many of the women I worked with had this magnetic confidence about them. They loved sex, loved performing, and brought a raw intensity to their work that was both fascinating and educational.

I learned so much from them—about boundaries, about freedom, and about embracing who you are without apology. Even when I was ducking under the camera to avoid a perfectly aimed squirt, I couldn’t help but admire their spirit.

No, it didn’t turn me on. If anything, it was a surreal lesson in humanity—messy, unapologetic, and weirdly beautiful.

People often ask me about the wildest thing I’ve seen while working in the industry. To be fair, there’s no shortage of bizarre stories, but one incident immediately comes to mind. It was a moment so outrageous, so utterly unexpected, that it still makes me shake my head in disbelief.

Enter Tory Lane. For those who don’t know, Tory is a force of nature—equal parts chaos, charisma, and pure, unfiltered audacity. One night, she was on a phone call with another couple. At first, the conversation seemed normal enough—well, as normal as it gets in that world. Then, out of nowhere, the couple on the other end of the line started going at it. I don’t mean suggestive comments or a little flirtation. I mean full-on, unabashed sex right there over the phone.

Most people would’ve just listened, maybe cracked a joke, or even ended the call. But not Tory. Tory decided to participate. And when I say participate, I mean she didn’t just escalate things verbally—oh no. She took the entire phone and, in a move that defies both logic and anatomy, inserted it right into herself.

I stood there, stunned, a mix of disbelief and, dare I say it, admiration. I mean, how do you even react to something like that? One part of me thought, “What the hell am I witnessing right now?” and the other part just nodded internally, impressed by her sheer commitment to the bit.

Part of me wanted to laugh, part of me wanted to look away, and part of me wondered how much longer I could keep living in this world without losing something of myself.

It was one of those moments that perfectly sums up the unpredictability of the industry. It’s raw, it’s crazy, and sometimes, it’s downright hilarious. But more than anything, it’s a reminder that no matter how long you’ve been around, there’s always something new waiting to shock you.

Even then, as I tried to juggle Holodex and PornModelHouse, it felt like I wasn’t building an empire—I was just another act in someone else’s circus. And somewhere, in the chaos, Holodex waited—neglected but not forgotten. I just hadn’t realized yet how long it would take to find my way back to it.