XXXmas Box

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December 6, 2010 by markstani

[this is the title story in my new, FREE, mini collection of the same name – click the cover on the right for more details]

Hi, I’m Kola Kubes, and I love Christmas! When people ask me what it is that makes it so special, I tell them plain and simple – Winter’s Tale. Folk may laugh but I still get goose-bumps every time I hear that song. It takes me back to the night I was curled up on the back seat of Wayne Thackeray’s Datsun Cherry round the back of the Kwik Save, sucking on a post-shag Superking, head thumping to his hardcore acid house. All of a sudden his tape chewed up and sent the radio crackling into life, drifting a few precious seconds of David Essex out of his souped-up Kenwood speakers for the whole of Fryup to hear:

it was only a winter’s tale
just another winter’s tale
so why should the world take notice
of one more love that’s failed

I swear at that exact same moment, the first virgin flakes of snow began to fall. It was like a fairytale, and to me it was a sign that I should make every Christmas an extra-special one, even if it meant shacking back up with the Wayne Thackerays of this world beneath the fluffy dice. Luckily it didn’t come to that. As soon as I went and got my first boob job I found a whole lot better things than Datsun Cherries to curl up in at Christmas time.
One guarantee about being a global megastar is that you never go short of friends, especially when it comes to the time to hand out presents. You find friends you never knew you had and other folk sucking up who poured nothing but scorn at least until the time the cash started rolling in. I’ve done some crazy things in my time, but giving a brand new Pontiac Firebird to a high school kid on the basis of a one-night stand just about takes the biscuit. I loved that kid, though, and even since our quickie divorce I still wear the friendship bracelet he made me in return. Funny how a silly bit of string’s survived through all these years yet that Firebird got totalled into a tree within a week. I’ve never been big on the moral of the story or any other morals come to that, but I guess it shows that Christmas isn’t all about cash and fast cars. I learned the hard way that it’s something a whole lot deeper than that.
Ever since that night in the Kwik Save car park, whenever I’ve found myself at a cross-roads in my life I’ve been able to credit Winter’s Tale for helping me through it, and that’s one of the reasons I decided to record a cover version. Since I was a little girl I’d always dreamed of appearing on Top Of The Pops and the idea that a plain old buck-toothed, flat-chested kid from Fryup could one day challenge for the Christmas number one just seemed like a fairytale to me. I still hand on heart believe I could have done it if the copyright wrangles and the legal mess over the song’s XXX-rated video hadn’t stalled its release until February. Apparently it was David’s people who kicked up the stink. I can tell you I lost a whole load of respect from him that day. As a matter of fact I ripped up all the old Look In! centrefolds of him smiling up out of that necker-chief that I’d kept through the years for the times I felt low. Whatever, the song still helped open a whole new chapter in my life, and I guess I ought to be grateful for that. If it touched just one other person in the same way it touched me in the Kwik Save car park that night, then I reckon it was all worthwhile.
People often ask me, Kola, what ever happened to that super-skimpy Santa outfit you wore in your controversial Christmas nativity movie, Kola’s XXXmas Box? Well, the answer is I save it for special occasions, and far as I’m concerned there’s no more special an occasion than Christmas Day itself! Last Christmas, I hooked up with a few friends and the camera crew who are filming pilots for my new reality show, Kola & Co – which we expect to air on cable shortly – and we drove round LA tossing out chocolate money to the poor and needy. I know how lucky I’ve been in my life and it was just my little way of giving something back to those less fortunate. The looks on those poor folks’ faces when I unfurled out the van in that sexy little outfit of mine – it was like all their Christmases had come at once!
My charity work has always been very special to me but it is not something I especially like to talk about. At my Kola Kubes Foundation, which provides advice and support to young girls looking to find their feet in the adult entertainment industry, we have a tradition of each year cooking up a little Christmas party of our own. Cherry, one of my assistants, hauls in whole trays of the best mince pies you’ve ever tasted from the Wal-Mart over the way, and we ship in supplies of my favourite super-strength lager from back home just for the occasion. We have a tradition of playing Secret Santa with a difference: we pull pairs of names out of one of my double G-cup bras and the winners are the first couple to get it on there and then! I’m proud to say I’ve won it six years straight – even the year I got paired with our old Korean cleaner!
Like the song says, it’s the season for love and understanding, not that I knew it when I was growing up back home in Fryup in that little long-stay static of ours. It was like Christmas didn’t hardly exist. We would sometimes have a fold-out tree and a few sprigs of tinsel hanging limp around the place. Mum would string a line of red fairy lights across the window when the nights drew in. I remember reckoning it was a sign to show Santa we were waiting up for him. It’s funny though, all kinds of blokes would get attracted by those lights of ours and there wasn’t a single one of them who showed up in a Santa outfit. As for stockings, the first I set sight on were the pair I swiped from the Woollies and pulled over my knees when I was twelve years old to impress the boys. Mum used to say Santa must have run out once he’d finished in town, how that somehow made us special as we had what we had and knew how to be thankful. If we’d been especially good, she’d let us scoff out the coconut eclairs from the bottom of the Quality Street box. Most Christmas Days, mum and her new bloke would be off down the pub for the early-hours lock-in bright and early, and leave my brother Bobby and me to fend for ourselves. If we were lucky, we’d find an out-of-date packet of Crispy Pancakes in the back of the fridge. Bobby would fry them up and we’d eat them huddled on the sofa in front of the Christmas movie. We’d be long gone to bed by the time mum and her new bloke rolled back in from the pub, and if they were full enough of festive spirits they’d sometimes drag us out and feed us crisps and fizzy pop. Other times, they’d keep us awake with their shouting and the rest of it right through to Boxing Day dawn.
As we got older, Bobby and me used Christmas to have a little more fun. What with mum and her new bloke pretty much camped out down the Hounds, we’d guarantee the place to ourselves. By then I’d started posing up for the Polaroids and some of the best I had Bobby take were of me sprawled almost nude on the couch, wrapped in just a twist of tinsel or pouting up in a Santa hat under mistletoe. One Christmas morning Bobby handed me a present stuck up in a brown paper bag. It was the first wrapped gift I’d ever got and I’ll be honest, it could have had a lump of coal inside and I’d still have been happy. I tore it open and found a copy of Razzle with one of my tinsel shots in the Readers’ Wives. I burst out crying and tugged Bobby close. To me it was the first sign that I should follow my dream, that I wasn’t going to be living my life the same way for much longer. Me and Bobby have had our differences over the years, but I’ll never forget that moment. To me that copy of Razzle was and always will be a better Christmas present than Santa could ever bring.
Some folk are surprised to hear me say that I’m a very spiritual person. Just because of what I do for my day job, it doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings, and I’m proud to say I’ve never forgotten the real meaning of Christmas. By now, everybody knows the story of how Bobby and me would clamber up on the church roof when we were kids and he’d egg me on to give them a flash through the vestry window. At Christmas I’d pull on my special pair of musical Santa knickers for the purpose. The way I saw it, I was giving some of the old dears down below a festive treat they’d never forget! Looking back now, it’s a chapter of my life I’m not too proud of. I’ve come to learn there are some folk out there who don’t like what I do and never will. I don’t have a problem with that, just so long as they get on with living their lives and let me live mine. Sad to say I’ve found out the hard way there are some who will have nothing but hate in their hearts for me, and no matter how I try to go about my business, nothing’s going to change that till I’m six foot under.
When I came up with the idea for my Christmas movie, Kola’s XXXmas Box, I can honestly say I had no idea of the controversy it would create. I’ve lost count of the number of times folk have asked me, Kola, if you had your time again would you still have done that movie? My answer is always the same: hell yeah. Sure I’m sorry for the innocent folk who got caught up in the riot that day, the distributor guy who lost a finger opening that awful threat letter, my couple of co-stars who got knocked cold by placards at the stable shoot. I’ve been through enough in my life for none of that stuff to scare me. My biggest regret is that XXXmas Box got taken off the nominations for the XVNs. My six career XVN awards mean so much to me, and I’m convinced XXXmas Box would have swept the board. We shot the movie in two days in my co-star Chesty Coceres’ place in the Hollywood hills. We’d had to scrap the location shoots over security once Fox News got wind and ran that piece about our so-called porno nativity that got the fundamentals frothed up so much. Okay, so Chesty’s place didn’t look too much like a stable but that’s when we came up with the idea to change the plot a little, find a way of persuading the inn-keeper to get us a room for the night! I still say my scene with the three wise men was one of the most satisfying of my career. It’s just too bad it was never made public for my millions of fans to enjoy. By that point the fundamentals had scared everyone enough to not go near it. There was the odd scene that got spliced in some straight-to-videos, and there’s a bunch of stills you can see exclusively on my website,, but that’s about all. To say I was angry is an understatement. I’d dreamed that XXXmas Box could do for the porn industry what Winter’s Tale did for the festive charts, only a bunch of narrow-minded folk who probably never saw a pair of fake tits in their whole lives saw it different. Well, if those folk are going to keep hunting me down till I’m dead and gone I guess we’ll have to let God be the judge. One thing’s for sure, the day I reach those pearly gates I’ll be wearing my super-skimpy Santa outfit – if that doesn’t swing it, nothing will!
I guess every one of my Christmases has been special in its own way. Each one helped make me into a little more of the woman I am today, and I wouldn’t change any of it for the world. I remember the first year I was married to Roscoe, it was just after we’d shot our world-famous porno-biography, Sweet Tooth, and we were superstars – he could have wrapped up almost half the Vegas Strip as a gift if he’d wanted. Instead he drove me out in the desert where we waited up swigging Southern Comfort for the stroke of midnight. Then we made love on a blanket illuminated by the lights of our rented pick-up – and guess which song he’d had burned to CD especially for the purpose?! It was right then I thought back to the Christmas I spent with Wayne Thackeray in his Datsun Cherry round the back of the Kwik Save, and truly came to realise just how far I’d come.
I would love to head back to Fryup and give my mum a taste of the Christmases we missed growing up. Because of her medication mum can’t fly, but I always make sure to wrap and send a bunch of my latest videos so she has a little piece of me to keep her company on Christmas morning. Sometimes I find myself wishing I was back there, necking pints with the boys in the Hounds, maybe teasing out a quick strip on top of the pool table before picking my way back to the static through the glooped-up lanes. Most of those boys I grew up with are married and moved out now and there’s fresh folk moved in who act up like they own the place, would raise merry hell at the thought of me heading home for a festive visit. I suppose you could say it’s just what I deserve, what with all the trouble I caused them when I went back to shoot Sweet Tooth. Re-creating that church roof scene maybe wasn’t the best idea, what with it being Easter Sunday and all. But it still makes me sick to think of those do-gooders cramming the pews preaching forgiveness to all when they’re not even prepared to give the time of day to a girl whose only real crime was to head out of that place and make good of herself, even if it meant having to pull a bunch of her clothes off along the way.
This year, I’ll be spending a quiet Christmas at home with my agent, my lawyer, the crew from Kola & Co, my cat Misty, my six Dalmatian puppies and my security guy, Kane, who’s a six-foot-eight ex-champion wrestler. A typical Christmas Day will start with one of the crew banging my bedroom door around midday to tell me it’s time to start shooting. I’ll head down around two and find a whole heap of presents under the tree and my people sitting round waiting patiently. All those pending libels and lawsuits over XXXmas Box may mean my days of unwrapping sports cars and plunge-pools are over for now, but it doesn’t mean a girl can’t dream! This year my wish-list includes shoes and lingerie and a deep-fat fryer. Folk who know me know just how much I miss the fish and chips from back home, and when my chef left last year he hooked the last one out with him and I haven’t had a decent chip since. Over here they go heavy on the stick-thin fries and there’s no scraps in sight, no matter hard you try to explain them to restaurant folk.
My Christmas is just as much about giving as getting, so I’ll hand out a bunch of extra-hot Kola 2011 Kalendars. They might not sound much but I’ll have had them especially mocked up for the purpose and exclusively available only to my closest friends and also to you via my website,
Where festive food’s concerned, I can think of no better idea on Christmas Day than rustling up a bunch of special recipes straight out of my very own Kola’s Khristmas Kookbook. It’s just a little something I threw together based on my favourite festive flavours, and I have to say I was amazed by the response, even if the health folk kicked up a fuss about the calories. Personally, I’m a big fan of the Kola Roast Ham on page 23, followed by the Kola Pancakes, which never fail to hark me back to the days me and my brother Bobby would search the bare shelves in the static for the packets of Findus. There’s something extra-special about gathering round the stove on Christmas Day with those you love most, sniffing up the treat that’s soon in store.
This year, with our hectic schedule, we’re having a change of plan and we’ll be buying in fried chicken from a little place I know down the road who open up just for the purpose. They’ll chuck in a few extras to mark the occasion. We’ll have buckets of fries – ordered as thick as they can make them, but still not the same – and onion rings, and my all-time favourite super-giant five-litre tubs of double chocolate fudge cake ice cream. My record’s ten minutes to scoop out a whole one, which I can’t help but suppose is a talent I learned in my brief days as host of my very own competitive eating event, Kola’s Khampion Khowdown, which aired on cable.
Afterwards I’ll hook on my super-skimpy Santa outfit and perform my traditional live Kola’s XXXmas WebKam for my fans. With all that action there likely won’t be time for my traditional chocolate money hand-out for the homeless, but they can rest assured if I can’t be out there on the streets with them, I sure will be in spirit. Later we’ll lounge round the pool till late sucking down plenty of gallons of festive cheer. As far as I’m concerned, Christmas Day doesn’t come a whole lot more perfect than that!

Kola Kubes donated a percentage of her fee for this article to the Kola Kubes Foundation. For exclusive pictures and for more information on Kola’s XXXmas WebKam, Kola 2011 Kalendars, Kola’s Khristmas Kookbook and Kola’s forthcoming biography, Sweet Tooth: The Ballad Of Kola Kubes, visit Follow Kola on Twitter @kolakubesXXX.

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