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Anthony Weiner's Penis
Anthony Weiner's Penis

The new documentary “Weiner” got great reviews, but any hope I had of gaining genuine insight into my former sexting partner vanished quickly. The film begins with precisely the sort of ass-kissing you’d expect given that it’s co-directed by Anthony’s former Chief of Staff, Josh Kriegman, a political hack who previously worked for President Obama’s campaign and briefly went to work for a well-connected Democratic lobby shop after his boss’s career went up in flames.

Krigman and co-director Elyse Steinberg, immediately offer clips of Weiner’s rants on the House floor in an obvious attempt to remind people that once upon a time — before we all saw his dick — he was a congressman with some dignity, or at least legitimacy. The problem is that staging a scene in the House just to get free TV time isn’t the same thing as passing actual legislation. Can you name anything Weiner actually accomplished in the House, other than being one of the few Democrats to vote FOR the Iraq War? Yeah, me neither.

Three minutes in and we’re being reminded of the first sexting scandal. The one that forced him to resign from Congress. The one he lied about, claiming he’d been hacked. At the time, I had been a fan of his and naively, I believed him. I actually thought Breitbart had set him up.

One of the most fascinating parts of the documentary is when Weiner claims that he wanted to return to politics because Huma “was very eager to get her life back that I had taken from her.” What a sweet husband!

And so after careful reflection, Weiner decided that once wasn’t enough when it came to humiliating his wife and becoming a nationwide laughingstock. He decided to run for mayor of New York and started the whole process over again. You would have thought “Carlos Danger” would have dropped out of the race after his sexually-charged exchanges with me went public, but instead he hung on and ended up with a degrading five percent of the Democratic primary vote.

If I read this premise in a work of fiction I would say it was farfetched. But when it comes to Weiner, truth is stranger than fiction. For example, consider this tidbit from the film: Bill Clinton officiated at Huma and Anthony’s wedding. That’s right, Bill Clinton, a man who knows nothing about the sanctity of marriage. If that’s not a premonition of marital doom, I don’t know what is.

There’s a point in the film where Weiner is reading aloud an article about himself and whining that he didn’t hire a prostitute or “break up a marriage.” And all I could think was, “Yeah, no shit, neither did I.”

I was routinely treated like a home wrecker when no home was wrecked. I never wanted him to leave his wife. It was just sexting, yet I was treated by the media as if I murdered babies. It’s amazing that he got a pass and I was slut-shamed, considering I was 22 when it all started, unmarried, and not a public figure.

People still say I “set him up” somehow, but during the documentary Weiner admits I wasn’t the only women with whom he had been sexting. In the past Weiner admitted that he had at least six sexting partners, including one that was seventeen. But yeah, it’s all my fault.

I can think of few things less appropriate than a “Women for Weiner” fundraiser, but I would like to personally thank whoever it was that decided to include it in the movie because it made me laugh out loud. I know some people feel sorry for Huma, who spoke at the event; even I did at one point. But the more I reflect, the more I’m reminded that if you allow things to happen they will continue to happen.

Huma stayed after the first scandal. She stayed after the second. And his behavior will continue. In fact, I am certain his behavior continues to this day because a woman who claims to be one of his current sexting partners has reached out to me for advice.

I’ve read speculation that Huma only stays with Weiner because she’s Muslim, as if you have to be Muslim to stay with a cheating husband. Is Hillary Clinton Muslim too? No, this has nothing to do with her religion and everything to do with her ambition. She’s taking a page out of Mrs. Clinton’s handbook.

Some people think I’m the loser in this situation, but the real loser is Huma. She’s the one married to this guy. It’s amusing to listen to her fundraising calls for him where it’s clear that their marriage is more about business than it is about love. (Or sex, of which it seems apparent they have very little judging from the obvious lack of intimacy between the two in the movie.)

At the fundraiser, Huma feigns interest in hearing a potential donor talk about someone’s engagement, eager to get a few bucks out of them. “Is this your A-List?!” Weiner berates her. But at the end of the scene he applauds — “Five thousand in five minutes? Not bad” — sounding more like her pimp than her husband. This scandal cost me my job within half an hour of BuzzFeed outing my identity, and I was forever branded “that” girl. I chose to make porn videos after the scandal and I’ve been called me a “whore” for doing so but when you listen to their fundraising calls, it’s clear that they’re the real whores.

In another scene in the movie, Huma tells staffers that “as a quick optics thing” they should try not to look too miserable. Someone should’ve given Huma the same advice, because it’s so apparent that this woman is utterly miserable throughout the entire documentary. One has to wonder why they even let the filmmakers continue on with this project. Oh, yeah, maybe because they’re deranged, power hungry narcissists.

There are several points in the film where you can see how truly delusional, naïve and narcissistic Anthony is, but few are as funny as when he declares that all scandals only have a 72 hour shelf life. Poor Anthony didn’t know I’d be making the most of it and doing multiple interviews.

Another wonderful display of Anthony’s delusional nature is when he’s re-watching his Lawrence O’Donnell interview  a complete and utter shit show described widely as a “train wreck” — and he actually believes he’s been vindicated. He encourages Huma to watch with him and she appears disgusted, refusing to join him. “Why are you laughing?” she asks. “This is crazy.” He tries again to convince her he came off well in the interview and she says, “Sorry, I can’t,” and walks out the door.

One of the few honest things in the film is when Huma says being in the scandal “is like living a nightmare.” It wasn’t fun for me either. I made the best I could of it, but it was a terrifying and humbling time, to say the least.

Watching Weiner practice an apology speech comes off about as authentic as my fake orgasms making a porno. A practiced liar, Weiner told People magazine he felt like a different person after the scandal broke, but all the while he was still sexting me daily after his first bust.

Another moment of blinding, stunning narcissism is when he’s watching the video of his fight with a Jewish voter in a bakery, and instead of worrying about how insane he looks, he’s worried that his bald spot is visible in the clip. Don’t worry, Anthony, no one has ever liked you for your good looks or personality. Including me.

During a bizarre scene where I crashed one of his campaign stops, Anthony instructs his staffer to have supporters “surround her and chant the shit out of her.” Like Hitler from the bunker in 1945, calling for imaginary battalions to protect Berlin, there wasn’t a single supporter there to do that. By this point, the entire campaign knew it was over, other than Weiner himself. He actually wonders out loud if he had more time, would he rebound? The answer is “No, jackass. Voters like you about as much as your wife does.”

Some people thought the porn industry exploited me by roping me in during my “15 minutes,” so to speak. But this documentary does more to exploit me in 90 minutes than the porn business has in three years. The filmmakers didn’t give me a dime and the movie was released long after I had worked hard for years to move on with my life. Going back to college was a huge step for me, but the documentary came out the week of my graduation and press interest shot back up.

Thankfully I found ways to make a little money from it anyway, like my interviews with Inside Edition and Nat Geo, and this article. So thank you to the filmmakers for reminding me what a tenacious little capitalist I truly am. And P.S., Fuck You. Seriously.

My favorite part of the documentary is when a woman comes up to Weiner and asks, “Why are they filming you? Are you somebody I’m supposed to know?”

No, Miss, I can guarantee you. You don’t want to know Anthony Weiner. And whatever you do, don’t give him your Twitter handle.

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