At first glance at the title, you may presume that the subject of this article concerns a 2000 slasher satire starring Brittany Murphy, Jay Mohr and Michael Biehn. As interesting as that turn-of-the-century thriller is, this article is about an entertainer whose showbiz name was meant to remind you of a singer named Neneh Cherry. The singer took great offense at this, so that’s why the entertainer changed her name to Nina Cherry. In 1997, the fallen angel delivered a harangue on the oldest forum as follows from here on in.
I see that I’m quite an article of discussion and have been for a very long time. At first I was very shocked, hurt and incensed all at the same time with some of the posts I have seen on here; but now I’ve decided to share my version of the incident that took place in the L.A.. adult entertainment industry. Before I begin, I will branch off in several different areas. I have been in over 200 XXX movies. I am from Houston, TX. and reside here now. I moved to L.A. in 1994 to do XXX movies. I was a party animal who loved sex tremendously; that was the driving force. Well, that and then money, but mainly the sex! I was doing gangbangs way before I ever did my first movie. In edition to my wild sexual behavior, I was a firm believer in safe sex, and still am.
I have been testing HIV negative since 1994. I gave up a life with a Deputy sheriff in Texas to pursue my career in L.A. Porn is the American dream. I loved my job and all the people in the industry very much. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was a part of something. I clicked with the clogs in the machine. I was very happy, and good at this new found profession. I remained to be single in L.A. for ten months. I did nothing but movies and parties with people in the industry. Now, if I partied with others outside of the industry then I made the guys wear condoms. I did do drugs, but who said I shot up? That is a total lie! I hate needles and people who use them. So, anyway, when I say I did drugs, I will confess that I did pot, ecstasy, and coke at the beginning but the latter was a very small amount.
When I turned 18 in 1987, I did A LOT of coke so, in comparison, there was no comparison. At the beginning of the new year. I hooked up with the vice president of a Toyota dealership and we became a very hot item (or so I thought). I fell madly in love with him but got dumped on in the most inhumane way. I was devastated and could not get over him. It was destroying me! I was turning to alcohol and drugs, BIG TIME! More drugs, and harder ones to lift me up off the coke except this time I was smoking it.
I am ashamed that I admitted that but I really want to be a mature adult and come to terms with what I went through. This could all be a direct result of all I’ve been going through. Before I go any further, I am clean and have been since I’ve left L.A. I feel great because I’m healthy and strong. I regret all those stupid days of wasting away on the crazy drugs. I WAS a party girl and I still am but a different kind now. I don’t need or desire drugs. Drug dealers commit manslaughter.
I felt trapped in my little crazy drug maze and knew I had a problem but I was hooked. As such, I didn’t know how to get out. I wasn’t working as much and was traveling from L.A. to Houston. When I situated in the latter, I talked to “Dale” (as he shall be forthwith known). He wanted me to come on back to L.A. He and I hooked up. We had never been romantically involved before and he knew of the hardships which I had been suffering from, as did a lot of people. I simply was a big mess over this Mr. Toyota. I could not heal and get over him.
The drugs and booze were not helping, so I figured that Dale could replace him. Wrong! But this story takes a strange twist or two on the way to where I’m taking you. I moved out of my apartment in Woodland Hills, CA. and into his house. We became engaged. I still continued to do drugs while living there and we had a very unusual relationship to say the least. I still mourned over Mr. Toyota and eventually went in the hospital for depression.
Dale and I grew very distant as this hospital put me on all kinds of powerful drugs. I was an authorized addict. I was pretty messed up. I was very unhappy with with my current lover, although still engaged the night before we were to go down and get our marriage licenses. All seemed fine, but the next minute, Dale came flying at me and grabbed me by my hair on top of my head. Did a blackout make me miss something? He started slinging me around like a rag doll saying to me: “See this? This is your hair. Do you want me to to rip it all out of your head?” Well, I tried to fight back but he was too big. He held me down and tried to suffocate me. He says to me: “Stop screaming if you like to breath!”
I had no choice. I thought I better get some air soon, I was scared and couldn’t believe that I was going to marry this crazy man. It was so unlike him, unless his facial expressions were a veil for his true character. His previous speaking tone seemed like a cloak so that his body could be used as a dagger. He was like an undercover cop. He tried to keep me captive in a room, and I pleaded with him to let me use the phone across the street to tell my doctor that I felt depressed. We had just moved in his condominium and the phones weren’t on yet, so the yutz said “Okay. I’m going to get my jacket.”
I bolted, called 911 and he was then arrested. I filed a restraining order and the judge kicked him out of his condo. He was arrested again and, this time, I really was in fear. Next time could be worse, or so the police warned. They advised me to leave, so I did. Myself and all three of my cats. The pets were a makeshift spouse and family. A friend put me up in a hotel, and gave me sufficient money. I could not work from all the bruises on me. I couldn’t work in the more abusive types of porn. Soon, I would be able to work. I hung out with Ron Jeremy one afternoon. He is a very dear and close friend of mine, we had sex, he took some photos of me and paid me.
I needed the money desperately for the abusive fiancé who had been supporting me. Dave Hardman came over and we had sex. Jonathan Morgan and two other people did the same. By the way, they were all unprotected. I went to Norton in Culver City to get my HIV test and, to my suprise for the first time, it came up equivocal. I could not work. I had been using a lot of drugs and feel as if the drugs had messed up the test. I know for a fact that my blood was totally polluted. Plus from the coke that I was smoking before all of this happened, I was sick. Now, I was doing some speed.
I kept getting tested. No trace of HIV was ever found in my DNA, or PCR, or RNA. None of my lovers or current sexual partners had it. Even if they did, I know at least a third if not half of the hundred guys I must have slept with would have been exposed to it. But they were not and no one in the 3 to 6 month window has it! Did I do so many drugs that I kept getting a false positive result on my test? Was a corrupt doctor paid to forge a test result? Was I in purgatory? The former is more likely as other people attested.
Look at Roxanne Hall. She was another party girl who was in the same boat and had to come clean off the drugs to get a proper test result. I went back to Dale and told him the bad news. He offered me 4,000 dollars to go home, so I took the money. In retrospect, I was given a false report so that the murderous monkey was off my back. I flew back to houston with the intent to get off the drugs and get a business going. My immune system is getting stronger by the day, but I can tell my body is repairing itself.
I have a website with a chat program and live video teleconferencing. I could never have imagined this much interface of the cyberspace back in the eighties. I’m so popular that, in one store, six different viewing rooms played some of my movie titles (including some that I’ve produced through). I’m staying very busy and I’m on the way to very big success. I have many other great projects lurking behind the scenes, but now let’s get back to the medical issues here.
There are 5 different criterias which mean 5 interpretations in determining if a person is indeed HIV-infected. There is no Gold Standardization, and if there was then this would be much more simple. So here’s the other point I want to express about the genes in the HIV virus which are looked at very closely. they are the gag, pol and envelope genes. 2 of these genes back on my HIV test (March 17) are equivocal. Before only one of them were equivocal.
My county doctors here say that they will not put me on the protease inhibitors until they know for sure that it is the HIV virus, and they have not confirmed this, and also they said they found a very high level of barbiturates in my blood and this was kinda puzzling because I did a lot of coke and some speed right before returning home. My doctor found I high level of protein in my blood. He said to get off and detox so that we could get a better test result. I did.
Soon, I will be going back in to do just that get a clean reading. It takes a while to detox all the drugs. The hardest part for me through all this is the Chinese whispers. I’m a good person and I made some foolish mistakes. I regret ever loving someone such as Mr. Toyota, for he broke my heart and he knew all the pain that I suffered before I met him. He was like unkind. He could care less if if I’m dead or alive. He was that mean, but Dale was meaner and meanest when he said: “No one in L.A. cares about you.”
After all I sacrificed for all the movies, it really makes me feel blackballed and abandoned by the industry that I still love. It’s hard enough being a star, but imagine dealing with all the lies, and NO ONE comes directly to you to get the facts. There is a lot more than just this and if people will open their minds as much as they open their wallets so as to learn from my downfalls then you will see there is a really nice and together person over here who is adult enough to admit that she made some mistakes. I use my past as a blanket to help others instead of using a blank state. I’m the kind of person who would give the shirt off her back to do right to others, even if it’s the only thing that I’m wearing.
Editor’s note: As one fan noted, the Chinese whispers about her medical condition are a sign of a few people having chips on their shoulders. Some say she retired; some say she died.