HUSTLER Magazine

This website contains sexually explicit material, and is for adult viewing only. If you are under the age of 18, pease exit now by clicking the "EXIT" button below. By clicking the "ENTER" button, you agree that you are at least 18 years of age, you are of legal age in your area to view sexually explicit materail, you will not expose the contents of this web site to minors, you are wholly liable for any legal ramifications that may arise from your viewing or downloading materail from this website, and you will subject yourself to the jurisdiction of the State of California should any dispute arise between yoursef and the operator of this website.

Exit Shop Magazines
2257 Compliant
the erotic review

ShareThis

History of the Hedgehog

PORN’S MOST STALWART PERFORMER LOOKS BACK AT THREE DECADES IN THE BIZ

RON JEREMY HAS FUCKED every single woman we have ever fantasized about—and thousands more. Somehow, this hirsute, rotund wretch has been able to flourish and survive in the world of adult entertainment to become one of its biggest stars.

But how did the wannabe mainstream actor and failed Catskills comedian Ron Hyatt (Jeremy is his middle name), a nice Jewish boy from Bayside, Queens, become the recognizable figure he is today? In his new autobiography, The Hardest (Working) Man In Showbiz, Jeremy chronicles his own climb to the top of the ladder as the clown prince of porn. Here are some notable excerpts:

On his member: I have a policy—if a girl wants to see my penis, she first has to show me her tits. Just ask Paris Hilton or Traci Bingham.

On Viagra: I don’t know why the idea of Viagra bugs me so much. I guess it’s because I consider it cheating. Most male porn stars today use some form of Viagra or VigRX or ExtenZe, but I’ll never touch the stuff. The minute I need a pill to get wood, I’m going to retire from the business.

On starting out: When the October 1978 issue of Playgirl [featuring Ron Jeremy] came out, I went to the nearest newsstand and bought two dozen copies. The salesman looked at me like I was some kind of pervert. He probably thought that I was gay, and very, very lonely.

On his first film: I was already having second thoughts. When the producers gave me the address for today’s shoot, I had expected it to be a studio warehouse, or at least something that passed for a proper movie set. Instead, it was at a town house in lower Manhattan, which had been loaned to the producers just for the weekend. It all seemed too amateurish, like a student film that was operating on a limited or nonexistent budget. I wondered if it was too late to make a break for it.

On his nickname, “The Hedgehog”: When I walked out of the shower, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, Bill Margold was waiting for me, along with Seka and a few of the other actors. He took one look at me and burst out laughing. “What’s so goddamn funny?” I asked him.

“Will you look at this guy,” he said to the others. “He’s all pink and furry, like a little hedgehog.”

On doing Marilyn Chambers: I got a call from a photographer for Chic [a onetime Larry Flynt skin magazine] who asked if I was interested in doing a photo-shoot with Marilyn Chambers for a new book. I nearly crapped my pants. This wasn’t just another job: It was the chance to work with a legend.

The next day at the studio, I had butterflies in my stomach. When Marilyn waltzed in the room, naked as the day she was born, I nearly blacked out. The shoot was softcore, meaning there wasn’t any actual penetration. We were supposed to SIMULATE sex, but the moment I crawled onto the bed with Marilyn, I got a whopping boner that wouldn’t go away. “Oh, come on, Ron,” yelled the photographer. “Hide it behind her leg or something.”

“I’ll try,” I told him.

“We can’t shoot anything until you get that thing out of the way.”

“I’m doing what I can.”

“I have an idea,” Marilyn said. She had a mischievous grin on her face, “You can hide it right here.” Boom, right in the vagina.

On sucking his own cock: Very few people believe me when I tell them I don’t enjoy blowing myself, but it’s true. Conventional wisdom has it that self-fellatio is every guy’s dream. As George Carlin once observed, “If I could reach, I’d never leave the house.” And sure, it sounds like a good idea in theory. But when you’re actually doing it, unless you are gay or bisexual, it can be a profoundly disturbing experience. A part of me is thinking, “Hey, you’ve got a nice set of lips on your dick. That feels pretty good.” But the other half is screaming, “Ron, there’s a fucking dick in your mouth! Get it out! Get it out!!”

It doesn’t matter if you are a die-hard Ron Jeremy fan or not. You know the guy and, in a way, sort of want to be him. The Hardest (Working) Man In Showbiz wavers between self-indulgent and self-effacing, but is overall an entertaining and sometimes lighthearted chronicle of one man’s remarkable life. It’s available at bookstores and HUSTLER Hollywood stores everywhere.


K.K. Le Roque

Photo Credit: Ron Jeremy



Click to browse new and back issues of HUSTLER Magazine.

Click to view subscription offers for HUSTLER Magazine.