Hunter Moore is hungover. It’s early evening in Cali and the ‘small town Christian boy’ is feeling badger rough. This is in spite of the fact that he ‘didn’t do much’ the night before – ‘just hung out’. For most people, this would involve dinner, Sons of Anarchy and a spliff. For Hunter, it consisted of ‘a bunch of molly’, a fuckload of alcohol and casual sex with strangers.
There may have been company when his head hit the pillow, but the 26-year-old woke up alone – ‘which is always the best situation.’
Now he’s slumped in front of his MacBook, head pounding, heart pumping and pussy – or is it ass? – residue on his fingers. There’s titty pics to be retweeted, there’s dollars to donate to charity ($5 for every ass pic submitted), there’s a mixtape to promote and an Ed Uncovered interview to be done. It’s going to take more than a fucking comedown to stop Hunter Moore from going to work.
In spite of the molly-coddled sesh he’s arisen from, Hunter assures me that he’s presently ‘on nothing’ – a claim that’s verified by a pic he tweeted ten minutes earlier.
‘I don’t really touch too many drugs,’ he drawls.
Molly, mandy, MDMA, coke, blow, ching and tony; call it what you will, Hunter doesn’t touch it. Not really. The street names – like the names of the street girls he fucks – aren’t important. In his line of work, the lothario comes across a lot of names, but Hunter’s not so good with names; he prefers faces.
Hunter Moore doesn’t do drugs in the same way that he doesn’t do girls. ‘I’m on a dry spell right now,’ he explains. ‘I get off more to the story now than I do to just fucking everything. Plus I hate getting chlamydia all the time.’
A dry spell for most people would constitute a few months. How long has it been for Hunter?
What Hunter calls a dry spell, most of us call going to sleep.
‘You know what’s weird? It’s like I’m totally burnt out. I don’t even like having sex any more. I’m like, asexual now.’
Usually when people are ‘suffering’ from too much sex, they’ll check into a clinic, be it an STI centre or an addiction clinic. To overcome his own sexual hell, Hunter Moore has resorted to experimenting with ‘weird-ass shit – like peeing on girls’.
So far this month, he’s bedded ‘at least 60 or 70’, though how many of these were treated to a warm embrace and an even warmer shower is unclear.
When you’ve tired of sex, drink and drugs, you’ve tired of the rock n roll lifestyle – then all you’re left with is rock n roll itself.
Music to Fuck to
For a man whose mantra is ‘Fuck bitches, get money and wear cool clothes’, Hunter Moore seems pretty relaxed about the lucre, at least when it comes to flogging his mixtape. ‘If you wanna download it for free, download it for free. I don’t really give a fuck. I’m not selling it like I’m selling titties.’
The last time Ed Uncovered wrote about Hunter Moore, we asserted that he’s the guy Beliebers turn to upon hitting puberty. At the recollection of this, he smiles.
‘Yeah, I quoted you on that,’ he laughs, but denies making music to woo teenagers – the ones whose parents won’t allow them to buy a Blow Lines Fuck Dimes shirt, and whose titties aren’t yet full enough to present to Hunna.
‘I don’t need anyone’s fucking money. The music is just there; it’s just something I enjoy doing and I put it online. My whole life’s online.’
He ain’t wrong. Long before Hunter Moore became Hunter Moore: Porn Peddler Extraordinaire, he was perfecting the art of being Hunter Moore. He recalls his first taste of wincest, which took place at Zumiez (a US skate shop). ‘I was ringing up these girls, it was the last customers of the day and I ended up having sex with this girl and her mum in the dressing room. I put the story online and it was the start of Hunter Moore in a way.’
Most guys would have been content to live off that story for the next 30 years, but for Hunter Moore, it was just the start. Since then, he’s never looked back.
With half of Instagram fighting for his jizz, you’d think Hunter wouldn’t have to pay for sex. You’d think wrong.
‘I pay for hookers all the time,’ he admits. ‘Getting hookers is fun as fuck – I’ve been doing it since I was 16. You can do whatever you want to them. They’re like the perfect woman.’
Some people will order in a keg for a party; Hunter requests a bunch of hookers.
‘I’ve countless times gotten hookers for parties and had all my friends fuck ‘em. It’s just like a normal thing and it’s a good story. People make it seem like it’s shameful here, it’s really frowned upon…my country fucking sucks.’
Is he on a mission to change America’s attitude to prostitution?
‘I’m just trying to change America’s attitude. I fucking hate this country.’
The American Nightmare
When Hunter Moore launched Is Anyone Up, he was $120 in debt and crashing on his parents’ couch. Today, he’s the ultimate entrepreneur, a self-made man and the epitome of the American dream. Lunch at the White House must surely beckon.
He laughs. ‘I hope so. But I have to say, there is no more American dream now – there’s just the internet dream. And I know that sounds fucking retarded but it’s serious. There’s no more coming over to America and starting a company or some bullshit and making a million dollars. Everything’s self-made on the internet now.’
Earlier, while trash-talking a country music singer whose name he shares, he’d proclaimed ‘Dude, I am Hunter Moore. There’s a Hunter Moore pornstar, but that bitch can’t fuck with me. My ego and my name are too big and you’d literally have to kill the president to surpass me on Google.’
He may be an attention whore, but the man has a point.
‘Everyone wants to be famous but nobody wants to do the work. I just want my dick sucked and to do hella coke and be rich,’ says Hunter, churning out soundbites as if they were plump lines.
At 26, Hunter’s already ticked off everything on that to-do list 1,000 times over. Where does he go from here? Well, there’s IAU2 to launch (‘It’s gonna be the scariest place on the internet’), there’s London to try and book for one of his notorious parties (‘London girls are either haggard as fuck, like really gross, or they’re just drop dead gorgeous’) and then there’s the music to promote. First though, there’s the more pressing matter of several dozen ass pics to sift through on Twitter.
‘Oh god, this girl’s ass is so fucking gross,’ he complains. And then hits the RT button.
The hunted and the Hunter
Hunter appropriately grew up hunting, even if he didn’t care for it much. ‘My dad lives in Idaho and could kill a bear with his bare hands,’ he recalls. ‘He’s the manliest man in the world.’
Hunter Moore has been surrounded by animals all his life; first by the ones he hunted, and now by the ones that flock to him like lambs to the slaughter, begging for RTs, sex, and fleeting fame.
As Bang Dirty succinctly put it, ‘A hundred says you can’t keep the hunted from the Hunters’.
When it comes to tweeting, Hunter doesn’t over-analyse. No qualms, no regrets. Well, perhaps just the one.
‘The only one I ever felt bad about was when I told people to lick their dogs’ asses and I got so much shit for it, I ended up deleting it an hour later. I thought maybe the dog liked it, I mean, it licks its ass anyway…’
Debasing and humiliating people is fine; animal cruelty, he concedes, is a step too far. With the power he commands over American adolescents, it’s a miracle that PETA haven’t enlisted Hunter to become an ambassador. His girls would much rather go naked than wear fur.
Hunter Moore is the man your parents rant about. He’s the guy that feminists seethe about. And he’s the douche you warned your girlfriend about – but she didn’t listen and now you’ve got chlamydia. From Hunter Fucking Moore.
He’s smart, funny and subversive. In short, he’s everything that white corporate America hates. The feeling is mutual.
‘I hate fucking corporate America; I hate all that shit. I don’t have any education, my whole life has just been based on networking and without networking you can’t get anywhere. With IAU2, I wanna bring that back ten-fold, with getting your dick sucked on top of it, or your fucking pussy beat; whatever you’re using it for.’
‘Facebook is ruined,’ he continues. ‘They’re ruining the internet in general; they’ve ruined social networking and I’m just gonna bring it back.’
Hunter Moore is an IRL Patrick Bateman; he’s a monster, but you’d give your left nut sack to step into his shoes for a day, if it weren’t for the fact that to play Hunter Moore, you would certainly require both balls.
‘I just wanna keep the internet for the internet,’ he concludes, ‘So yeah…I guess I’m fighting for the internet.’
At that, Hunter laughs and goes back to RTing ass pics to raise money for colon cancer. He’s not the most hated man in America – he’s America’s favourite asshole.
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