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[ # ] Scott Baio selling his sex stories!
February 19th, 2007 under Books, Scott Baio

What’s a guy to do when he’s "dated and made love to some of the most desirable, beautiful starlets in Hollywood" but still can’t find love? If you’re Scott Baio, you find two co-writers to package up your pinhead thoughts and try to sell a book. Perhaps emboldened by the success of early ’90s casualty Tori Spelling, who sold her memoir to Simon & Schuster for $300,000 in December (albeit, after asking for $2 million), Baio is shopping around his own, poignantly titled tell-all, BaioWatch: How I Dated and Loved Hollywood’s Most Beautiful Women and Ended Up Alone.

On losing his virginity at the age of 16 to Happy Days co-star Erin "Joanie" Moran:

"I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say after we got naked. So for the first five minutes, maybe less—hell, it might have been the first twenty seconds—I’m doing it and thinking, man, this is really uncomfortable. What happened was, my thing was between the cushions on the couch and I didn’t even know it. Instead of being inside Erin, I was humping a corduroy sofa!"

On being a teen heartthrob:

"I got tight with Charles Laufer, the owner and publisher of Tiger Beat, which became an effective promotional tool…. One girl sent me her underwear that she’d peed and menstruated in, didn’t wipe and ran a mile in, so I could have her natural body fluids and odors.

On how he managed to pull chicks while partying at the Playboy Mansion with Charles in Charge co-star (and Radar correspondent Willie Ames):

"Admittedly, it’s all about money, power and fame. Sometimes Playmates will walk right up to me and grab my crotch."

On the exact moment he knew his relationship with Pamela Anderson was over:

"One day Pamela came home and said, ‘I’m thinking of getting my boobs done.’ Admittedly, I was surprised. My initial response, ‘Reduced?’ She already had large, beautiful, natural breasts. At that moment I knew our relationship would soon begin to crumble. Pamela had finally gone Hollywood—or whatever it is that happens when a woman becomes a hot celebrity."

Perhaps most bizarre, however, is an exchange he details in which a 51-year-old Minnelli tries to get Baio to become her surrogate baby daddy:

"’I really want your sperm. You’re a talented, good-looking Italian guy. That’s what I want my child to be.’ I was incredulous. ‘What are you gonna do with my sperm?’ ‘Well, I’m going to take my egg and put it into somebody else’s body.’"

Radar (check out the site for so much more!) 

When I was younger I so wanted to lose my virginity to him!!! Part of me still wishes he would confuse me for some sofa cushions!!! 

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[ # 413546 ] Comment from Bodypro8 [July 18, 2010, 4:41 pm]

I was dating a manicurist in Encino in 1986. A nice Jewish girl. Her name was Lisa. She had a hair stylist girlfriend who was dating Scott. One day on White Oak Blvd., Scott was there with the friend of my girlfriend. He shook my hand, “Hi, I’m Scott. And you’re forget your name as soon as I hear it.”

A year later I moved to Vegas. For nine years. I worked as a masseur and a dice dealer. I met many other Hollywood ass holes in Vegas. Thank you very much. Motherfvckers.

[ # 413553 ] Comment from Bodypro8 [July 18, 2010, 6:07 pm]

I started pulling up wood…

I had the backhoe facing downhill on section G. I’m facing west. There were no markers on this grave site. Howard, the caretaker, had marked it out for me. He had the map. It was his job. He lived on the grounds with his wife Edna and their grandson. In a little house. The secretary/treasurer’s office was under the house. I guess they lived there for free and got a small stipend. Howard and I had a little power struggle going on. This was in 1981-82. I hadn’t been there too long.

I was the charge hand and I took what jobs I wanted for myself. So I was digging the grave. Most of the time we used the backhoe. Sometimes we had to dig by hand if we couldn’t get the hoe in there. This was a private cemetery. We used liners very rarely. So we would have to put out plywood or the backhoe would sink into the old graves. The caskets would rot out and leave empty space below.

Anyway, I’m digging and the French Canadian kid is assisting me. I had to fire him later. Or he quit. I don’t really remember. At any rate he wasn’t there long. I get down about a metre and a half and I start pulling up wood. I got a queasy feeling but I keep going. Also I am kind of fascinated. I hit an old grave! I start pulling up cloth as well. Patterned cloth. I don’t know if it’s a burial gown or casket lining. Then the bones start to emerge.

But clearly it’s a very old grave site. I was under time constraint. The burial was scheduled for AM the next day. Plus it was Howard’s fvcking mistake, plus, what the hell. But I didn’t like it. Because I was disturbing a grave site.

I go tell Howard and he comes and looks and double checks and we decide…I finished with the grave, throw a tarp over the dirt, pulled a plywood over the grave and placed the frame for lowering the casket on top of the plywood and tarp and the old body went right on top of the new body. The grave was decades old anyhow.

[ # 413555 ] Comment from Bodypro8 [July 18, 2010, 6:16 pm]

A soundless voice

I was proselytized in Vegas in 1993. I was just trying to be polite and get rid of the guy. He asked me to say the sinners prayer. To ask Jesus for forgiveness and I started to follow him, I was repeating his words and something happened and I broke before God and I started sobbing and I am crying now because this is eternal and timeless.

I mean at this point in my life…a town like Vegas…I was a dice dealer and out of work. I was close to a full blown crack addiction. I was looking at suicide as a logical response to the existential dilemma of the fundamental meaninglessness of my life.

Because without God life means nothing. To live? For me? It wasn’t remotely worth it. And all the crack in Las Vegas couldn’t kill my pain. All the drugs and booze.

Anyway, after I had that experience, which still is the most real thing that ever happened to me, I was scared and couldn’t, still can’t find an identity as a Christian. I did go to a Spanish language church for a while. The people liked me. Then I went to a Messianic church. But I was bored and the congregation seemed smug.

I was baptized also. In a swimming pool by Mccarren Airport. But all the water in all the pools in Clark County couldn’t wash the Jew off of me.

A while later I decided to get clean. I quit drinking, narcotics and cigarettes all at once.

I was living in the Peter Pan Motel at 14th off Fremont. 80 bucks a week. I was dealing dice (craps) at the Las Vegas Club up the street…downtown, Glitter Gulch.

Anyhow, I had bought a new shower curtain, the hitch hiker series, and it had pictures of licence plates from all the different States in the Union. I was staring at it with pleasure. It was colourful.

I was happy. I was clean and alive and I was living. Suddenly I heard a voice, a soundless, powerful voice. It came from outside my body and the dead centre of my brain at the same time. The voice said, “you can barely conceive, you can barely see, you can only glimpse what I have for you.”

I was startled. Did I hear it or think that? The voice levelled me and I wept.

[ # 413558 ] Comment from Bodypro8 [July 18, 2010, 6:38 pm]

Crass name dropping

The first really famous person I massaged was at Ballys. Ballys was my first Vegas job. I got Willy Mays the ball player. He was an executive host at Ballys AC. This was in 1987 and he was in his early fifties. I was excited. I’m thinking, “I’m having a special life!”

He had very powerful traps and forearms. He took a half hour massage. He tipped me twenty bucks which is generous and I got him to sign a fight poster on the wall of my booth.

He signed it Willie ‘hey kid’ Mays. Hey kid was his nickname.

Tom Jones was in the spa almost every day a week out of every month. He had a contract with Ballys. He would come in with his blond haired body guard. Jones didn’t take massages. He didn’t like the oil. He used a tanning bed every day. His skin must be like leather by now. He gave the spa people tickets to one of his shows. Both sides. The mens and the womens side. I wore a suit. It was a good show and middle aged ladies were tossing their panties onto the stage. Panties and room keys.

Afterwards we went back stage and had a free drink and met the great man for like twenty seconds and that was it.

I got Ricky Schroeder at Ballys. The Silver Spoons actor. He was in the movie ‘Champ’ with Jon Voight. “Don’t die champ! Don’t die!”

I get into my booth. The attendant had already gotten him on the table. I get started. The little brat asks me, “Are you gay?” I was quite even tempered about it. “No.” Pause. “Are you gay?” “No.” So we got that settled. He stiffed me of course. Him and another little friend of his got caught upstairs playing the slots. He was about 18 at this time. Well, at least he had a clean body.

I massaged Denis Farina. Of ‘Police Story.’ He also acted in “Midnight Run’ with Robert De Niro. He was an ex police and a Hollywood ass hole. Ten bucks for the hour. A standard tip.

Top Rank was promoting cards upstairs at this time. There was a doctors scale on the mens side. The only scale in the hotel. They would haul it up there for weigh ins. And the fighters would come down to check their weight in the days before the fight. I shook George Foreman’s hand. He was just starting his comeback and I saw the card where he knocked out Steve Zouski. The guy from Minnesota. Foreman hand picked this guy.

I shook Floyd Patterson’s hand. He was at Ballys with his adopted son, Tracy Harris, who was fighting on a card. Archie Moore. Shook his hand. He was there with Foreman.

I saw Gene Hackman. He was down in the spa with Micheal Nunn. He had a piece of his contract. Hackman carried himself well. With modest dignity.

Shawn O’ Sullivan was down there. He was the Canadian amateur star who was pursuing a disastrous pro career. Leonard was guiding him. If Sugar Ray had intentionally tried to ruin this guy he couldn’t have done a better job.

I also saw a lot of famous fighters at the Golden Gloves Gym and the Tocco Gym. Tyson, Dwight Muhammad Quawi, Micheal Dokes, Chavez, Virgil Hill, Bruce ‘The Mouse’ Strauss (infamous). Akeem, the kid that got ruined in the ring and ended up a suicide. Jeff Mayweather. Trainers: Freddie Roach, Eddie Futch, Hedgeman Lewis (trained friends of mine).

I also massaged a comedian named Louie Anderson at Ballys. He was a big fat homo. I wanted to grab his throat, “Make me laugh, fat boy!” He gave me three bucks for the half hour.

Rodney Dangerfield at the Trop. At the spa. I gave him juice and a towel. He gave me nothing.

When I was dealing I dealt to Chuck Norris at the Barbary. He played green. Twenty five dollar checks. He would bet for the dealers. So I liked him.

When I got to Caesars; more famous muckety mucks. Charles Barkley. Rick Mahorn. From Philly, Basketball. Twenty bucks for an hour. Which was okay.

Greg Norman. Golfer. Twenty bucks. Niel Sidaka, room massage. A stiff. Julio Englasis. Twice. Room massage. I did a partial. He had a bad back. He tipped a hundred bucks each time.

Jim Belushi was up there. Les rubbed him. I was on my way to lunch and he was catching the elevator with a friend. I ran to catch up and get in the elevator. So I could ignore him on the way down. Some people say the wrong brother died.

I saw Hector Camacho in the gym. I saw Don Johnson in the gym. He needed a shave.

Nobody is going to remember half these people. If you work at Caesars long enough…

Because everybody passes through there. I think this whole thing, this name dropping is tedious. But what is it about the famous that seems to validate my meagre and anonymous existence? Because it did. Somehow.

[ # 1110219 ] Comment from Jesse Kaellis [January 24, 2012, 12:26 pm]

‘Pulling up wood’, ‘A soundless voice’, and ‘Crass name dropping’ are from my manuscript, ‘Breaking in on dice’ and renamed, ‘Early out.’ They were written by me, Jesse Kaellis.
I pasted them from an online forum attached to the Plenty of Fish dating site. I used the pseudonyms: bodypro8, bodypro8ra, babyland, bodypro88, unknownfibers, and bodypro9. The above three stories belong to me and cannot be used or reproduced without my permission.

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