Obscenely early. A shooting day, so I headed to the set. As I pulled my Tesla out of the garage, I saw a skinny old dark-skinned Asian guy wearing a plain white tee and cargo pants in my rearview. Had I called the gardener to come early?<\/p>\n
But this gardener had the wrong tools. I rolled down my window and asked what he wanted. He didn\u2019t answer. His hands were behind him, like a kung fu master. His hair was cut very short, his face deeply lined. Squinting and blinking, he resembled an Asian Clint Eastwood.<\/p>\n
I repeated my question.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m Herbert Lin\u2019s father.\u201d He brought forward his hands, one of them gripping a sizable revolver. He pointed it through the window, inches from my face.<\/p>\n
\u201cTommy Kok,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Tommy Kok was Herbert\u2019s stage name. He was the mope who got stabbed to death by Ryan Driver on set over at Lust Definition DVD. Driver led the police on an all-day chase, and when he was cornered in West Hills, he threw himself off a cliff. I\u2019d met Tommy once, before he started out. He told me I was his idol and that I was living his dream: doing porn and fucking hot girls. I told him to chase his passion. Don\u2019t let anyone discourage you.<\/em> Isn\u2019t that what you\u2019re supposed to say? Oh, and I introduced Tommy to one of the directors at Lust Definition.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve got to go to work now,\u201d I said, my hands up. \u201cPeople are expecting me. If you shoot me, you won\u2019t get far.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI want to ask you some questions,\u201d he said, thumbing the revolver\u2019s hammer. \u201cIf you leave now, I\u2019ll just come back tomorrow. Or tonight. Or the next day.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat would be tomorrow too.\u201d<\/p>\n He jabbed the barrel of the revolver, hitting my left temple.<\/p>\n \u201cMy face!\u201d I shouted, rubbing the side of my throbbing head.<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t need a face for what you do.\u201d<\/p>\n I wished I had some fucking neighbors. Bad enough I had to work with so many of the drug-addled. Worse that there could be a completely psychotic mope waving around a prop samurai sword waiting to kill someone on set. I didn\u2019t want to come home and blog to my tens of thousands of fans that I was afraid of getting my brains blown out in my new 6,000-square-foot home in Woodland Hills.<\/p>\n \u201cGet in,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019ll answer your questions if you put away the gun.\u201d<\/p>\n And so we drove to the studio. Me and Tommy Kok\u2019s father. Me and this armed, angry dad. Hadn\u2019t done the angry dad drive in almost fifteen years.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve seen your films,\u201d he said. \u201cThe Legend of Jon Bamboo<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n Ah, my magnum opus. The plot goes: three beautiful babes (Sunrise Flowers, Hannah Rose, and Brooke Lee James) follow a treasure map that leads to an island castle off the coast of San Diego where I, the reclusive, titular, and preternaturally well-hung Asian lover resided.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s based on a true story,\u201d I said. \u201cDo you know the legend of Dick Ho? He was supposed to be the first Asian male porn star in the seventies. Said to be longer than John Holmes! The Legend of Jon Bamboo<\/em> won a lot of awards. Best guy-girl and FFM threesome 2012. I\u2019m proud of that film.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShut the fuck up!\u201d he shouted, loud enough to make me pee a little.<\/p>\n My hands, at ten and two on the steering wheel, began to shake. \u201cI only met your son once. He said it was his dream to do what I do. I think we should let kids pursue their dreams, no? This was my dream. I mean, not this, with you in the car with a gun, but\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHerb was a smart boy. He was going to college at UCLA. He was an engineering major.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy parents were similarly skeptical,\u201d I said. \u201cThen they saw my house and my cars. Now my mom calls every week to make sure I haven\u2019t caught a disease yet.\u201d<\/p>\n Tommy\u2019s father shook his head. He wore white gym socks with black shoes. Never a good sign. Several very long whiskers sprouted from his Adam\u2019s apple. Grooming is so important. His lack of grooming and attention to conventions of fashion should have been immediate red flags.<\/p>\n \u201cMy son did whatever you told him to do,\u201d he said. \u201cI found out from one of his friends that he went to Las Vegas to see you at your smut awards show. He drank with you. You gave him advice. You gave him a contact to the porn company. You told him you started out as a mope.\u201d<\/p>\n I was hoping he didn\u2019t know all that.<\/p>\n Back when I was in high school, my dad kept a locked suitcase in his closet that I pried open with a screwdriver. Inside, I found a VHS tape of a movie that starred Peter North. I thought: I\u2019m going to be that guy. So I worked on my body. I was naturally well endowed. School wasn\u2019t my thing. I had lots of girlfriends. After graduation, I moved from Monterey Park to Van Nuys to be closer to the studios. At first, I\u2019d be one of the tuggers in a bukkake, or the guy cheering the couple on while they fucked in a college dorm party scene, or the dude who stood around in a mask in a BDSM. Mainly, I was the guy who uploaded videos on the website, and cleaned the set afterward. Lube gets all over everything.<\/p>\n Needless to say, with Revolver Dad by my side, I wasn\u2019t feeling sexy as we pulled up to the set, a warehouse by the Van Nuys Airport. I was scheduled to film two scenes. A boy-girl and a mommy-daughter threesome. We got out of the car, and I headed for my trunk to get my yoga mat and saw that Tommy\u2019s dad was waving his gun around like an iPhone.<\/p>\n \u201cJesus Christ!\u201d I said. \u201cPut it away!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cRelax, Howard,\u201d he said, sliding his gun back beneath his waistband.<\/p>\n The fucker used my real name. He had really done his research. I warned him not to use my real name in front of the crew and especially not in front of my sexy co-stars. Inside, the director, Mack Sinner, was in the kitchen, getting some coffee, while the crew was messing with the lighting on set in the loft space upstairs. We all know that set well, the bed with white sheets. The second floor windows had a nice view of the runways, but no need to marvel at that\u2014we weren\u2019t shooting the view.<\/p>\n I told Mack I had a visitor.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m Jon\u2019s dad,\u201d Tommy\u2019s father said.<\/p>\n Mack looked pleasantly surprised. \u201cThis doesn\u2019t happen often. Parents visiting the set. Jon never mentions his family.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI bet he doesn\u2019t,\u201d said my hostage-taker.<\/p>\n My balls were officially feeling like empty coin purses. \u201cGive me a thirty-minute warning before we shoot,\u201d I said to Mack.<\/p>\n Mack again looked surprised, but this time, not pleasantly so. The thirty-minute warning was industry-speak for \u201cI need to pop a boner pill.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou okay, JB?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d I said. \u201cJust had a hot date last night that lasted until morning.\u201d<\/p>\n Mack shook his head with admiration. \u201cThis guy gets as much pussy as the country of China,\u201d he said to Tommy\u2019s father. \u201cYou should be proud of him.\u201d<\/p>\n A look of nausea scrolled across his face.<\/p>\n I disappeared into the dressing room, unrolled my yoga mat, turned on some slow ambient EDM, dimmed the lights, lit some aromatic candles (lavender), and sat cross-legged on my mat in the middle of the room. Tommy\u2019s father perched on the folded-up futon and looked around before fixing his gaze upon the framed Game of Death<\/em> movie poster on the wall (one of the producers bought me that for my last birthday). I wished now that it was one of Bruce Lee\u2019s more benignly titled works, like Enter the Dragon <\/em>or The Green Hornet<\/em>. I shut my eyes and did some abdominal breathing exercises.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is my routine,\u201d I said. \u201cOtherwise, I don\u2019t feel sexy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI expected more drugs. And more junkie whores.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s still early in the day.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t think you can joke your way out of this.\u201d<\/p>\n I opened an eye. \u201cWhy are you here? Why do you want to expose yourself\u2014so to speak\u2014to this world that you hate so much?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI want to understand what my son was thinking.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe probably wanted to have sex with beautiful women. Most people can\u2019t. Like you. No offense. I\u2019m guessing you can\u2019t sleep with, like, thirty different good-looking women, over a hundred times a year. Porn isn\u2019t calculus.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t even know he had sex. He never had a girlfriend.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen you didn\u2019t know your son as well as you thought you did,\u201d I said. \u201cMy dad doesn\u2019t know me at all. It happens. No use dwelling on it.\u201d I realized how bitter I sounded, how insensitive I was to his loss. \u201cI\u2019m not going to tell you how to mourn your son\u2019s death,\u201d I added.<\/p>\n \u201cI could have done more,\u201d Tommy\u2019s father said, his eyes filling. \u201cHe didn\u2019t like going to church. He stopped talking to me because I made him go. Maybe I shouldn\u2019t have been so strict.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t be so hard on yourself,\u201d I said. \u201cWhat happened was a tragedy. The guy went nuts and your son was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I can\u2019t imagine what you\u2019re going through. There\u2019s nothing you could have done to stop it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat I keep coming back to is that he met you.\u201d He unlatched the cylinder on the revolver, fished single bullets out of a cargo pocket, and began loading the weapon.<\/p>\n No breathing exercise was going to help now. I envisioned my guts splattered all over the dressing room, and my dad, whom I hadn\u2019t spoken to in at least a decade, telling my mom with a shrug, \u201cI told you something like that would happen.\u201d<\/p>\n A knock on the door. I opened it a crack. Mack\u2019s assistant, Cherry. She handed me the release form on a clipboard. I signed and returned it.<\/p>\n \u201cMack said to give you the thirty-minute warning.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThanks,\u201d I said, shutting the door. I reached into my dresser drawer for my emergency pills. I turned up the lights to view the expiration date. Still good. I popped one with a swig of water.<\/p>\n \u201cIf I could turn back time and make it so that I never met him, I would,\u201d I told Tommy\u2019s dad. \u201cIs that what you want to hear?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIs she a performer?\u201d he asked, nodding at the door.<\/p>\n \u201cCherry? She wants to be. If she toned up a little and maybe cleaned up the complexion, she could be making good money already.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe looks barely eighteen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cClock\u2019s ticking. Once she gets started, she\u2019s going to look thirty in like six months, and then there will be another hundred eighteen-year-olds ready to take her spot.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow do you live with yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBy cashing the checks.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf I killed you right now, would anyone miss you?\u201d<\/p>\n Maybe a few. I tried not to keep too many close friends. My mom still loved me, I thought. My fans might miss me. But what were they going to do? Hold a candlelight vigil for their favorite porn actor? Laud my contributions to the cum-munity? I\u2019d long thought of myself as a service provider, except the service provided wasn\u2019t necessarily a net positive for society.<\/p>\n The sword murder-suicide was a crime felt throughout the industry. Some houses started hiring additional set security. Others required applications and background checks for every last person near a porn star. Too bad no one thought of a way to stop a crazy from showing up in my driveaway.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat does your father think of what you do?\u201d<\/p>\n When I told him what I was doing for work after high school, I was driving him home from his food truck. He worked that truck by the airport for thirty years so that I could do whatever I dreamed would make me happy in life. He didn\u2019t expect porn to be on that list; hard to blame him, really, for the way he reacted. He clubbed my ear while we were on the I-10 East and said he would never speak to me again if I kept doing porn. He claimed he had never seen pornography in his life. He claimed he never masturbated. My honesty triggered a spew of his dishonesty.<\/p>\n \u201cYou think I\u2019m the criminal here?\u201d I said. \u201cYou think that just because you think what I do is a sin that I\u2019m in the wrong? You\u2019re the one with the gun.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy would my son be so stupid to want to be like you?\u201d he said. \u201cI look at you and I see an uneducated person. I see someone who goes to the gym all the time but never studied in school. I see someone who has no family and lives in a big house counting his money. I see someone lying to himself that he\u2019s happy with his pathetic life.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd who the fuck are you? What have you<\/em> done other than spawn some loser-ass mope?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAt least I\u2019m honest,\u201d he said. \u201cI have nothing left. My only son is gone. My wife has left me. I have nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n We seethed in silence. I anticipated the next door knock, my call to go to work. This was going to be the least pleasurable scene ever.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re one of the first,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n Media always asked about that. I didn\u2019t like talking about it. I was one of the few Asian male stars in the American industry.<\/p>\n I got my start because there was a demand for AMWF (Asian Male White Female) in Asian countries. A lot of my early work featured me fucking while my face and wang were blurred to get through the Japanese censors. The Japanese also really liked their rape, so I had to pretend to strangle girls while they fake-cried and screamed as I was inside them. Awful work. Worst of all, I\u2019d only get paid $200-300 per scene! A dark period in my career.<\/p>\n Then The Legend of Jon Bamboo <\/em>happened, and I took off. People actually wanted to see me fuck in America. And I did enough movies and met enough stars that they wanted to work with me. They knew I\u2019d fuck them respectfully. I\u2019d made enough money so I could say no to the BDSM and rape fantasy stuff. When you\u2019re nineteen or twenty, you can sort of fake your way through that shit. You can stay hard forever. Not so easy when you\u2019re thirty-five.<\/p>\n In summary, I wasn\u2019t James Deen or Johnny Sins, but Jon Bamboo was doing pretty well for himself.<\/p>\n Tommy\u2019s dad stepped up to me until our noses were almost touching. \u201cWhat if you\u2019re one of the last? Then no one would want to be like you anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n I realized I wasn\u2019t afraid. I had achieved what I\u2019d set out to achieve and everything that had come since was extra. And yes, I was a little disappointed. I grew up wanting to be Peter North, but now I knew that I could never be Peter North or Johnny Sins or James Deen. I could only be one of the Asian guys. I had my small moment in the sun and that was it. I\u2019d succeeded, but at the same time, I\u2019d failed. Sure, I couldn\u2019t enjoy some things because of the career I\u2019d chosen: a relationship with my family, a normal love life. But I did the best I could with what God gave me.<\/p>\n \u201cIf you\u2019re going to kill me, just do it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAren\u2019t you ashamed of who you are?\u201d Tommy\u2019s father said. \u201cYou do the BTSM. You choke and hit women.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBDSM,\u201d I corrected. \u201cAnd I lightly slap and fake-choke. Nothing more. It\u2019s all consensual.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou spit on them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow much did you enjoy your research? Did you jerk off to it?\u201d<\/p>\n The mouth of the gun kissed my forehead. And then finally, the knock on the door.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re ready, Jon.\u201d Sindee Vuitton, one of my good friends in the industry. She came up around the same time, and we\u2019d filmed lots of scenes together. We dated for a year. When she started, she skyrocketed to fame as a barely legal. Now, ten years later, she was twenty-nine and a MILF. Sometimes they even asked her to do Mature. On a normal day, I never had trouble keeping it hard for her. Her husband is a chef, nice guy\u2014we played golf sometimes. Her three-year-old son was super cute.<\/p>\n \u201cCome on in, Sin,\u201d I said. Tommy\u2019s father wheeled his weapon behind his back.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you okay?\u201d she said, peeking in. \u201cI heard you needed thirty minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t take it,\u201d I lied. \u201cCome in. Meet my dad.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh hi!\u201d Sindee said, shaking the gunman\u2019s free hand. \u201cPleasure to meet you, Mr. Bamboo.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe likes the bondage porn,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n Sindee\u2019s eyes widened.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a Japanese thing,\u201d I added.<\/p>\n She smiled, smacking me on the arm. That was our inside joke. It took her about five years of working together for her to remember what kind of Asian I was.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat the hell are you doing here?\u201d Sindee said to me. \u201cGo out with your dad. We could have rescheduled.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI came to see you,\u201d I said, locking eyes, hoping she\u2019d see that something was wrong. \u201cSo what do you do?\u201d she asked Tommy\u2019s dad, missing my unspoken message.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m a postal worker.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course he is,\u201d I blurted.<\/p>\n He glared at me.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy don\u2019t you stay here, Pops? I\u2019m not sure you should actually see what I do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, I do,\u201d he said. \u201cI want the full BTS. I love the behind-the-scenes videos.\u201d<\/p>\n Sindee laughed. \u201cYour dad is<\/em> a perv.\u201d<\/p>\n Even with Sindee, the scene was a struggle. Took over an hour. My erection lasted too long, and I couldn\u2019t finish. She looked distracted; I looked distracted. Mack kept asking if I was okay. Everyone kept asking if I was okay. I wasn\u2019t fucking okay. Fucking okay was standing over there in the corner, watching me, waiting to blow my brains out.<\/p>\n Afterward, downstairs in the kitchen, a robed Sindee took my sweat-soaked self aside. \u201cI\u2019m sorry I touched your hair,\u201d she said. \u201cI know you don\u2019t like that.\u201d<\/p>\n I hadn\u2019t even noticed.<\/p>\n \u201cYou must be so sore,\u201d Sindee said.<\/p>\n \u201cYou too,\u201d I said, shaking my head. \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t be. You know you can always talk to me, right?\u201d<\/p>\n I checked over my shoulder to see where my tormentor was. Mack was showing him our dungeon set and complaining that my inability to cum had caused him to be behind schedule. I pulled Sindee close and muttered: \u201cHe\u2019s not my dad. He\u2019s Tommy Kok\u2019s dad. He\u2019s got a gun. He thinks I got his son killed.\u201d<\/p>\n Sindee smiled and nodded as she eyed Herbert\u2019s father. \u201cFuck,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n \u201cSon!\u201d Tommy\u2019s father shouted from the dungeon.<\/p>\n \u201cDad?\u201d I looked for sharp objects. Nothing but cheese knives. \u201cLet\u2019s go get some lunch.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not hungry,\u201d he said, walking over.<\/p>\n \u201cI need some food before my next shoot,\u201d I said. \u201cAnd I need to shower.\u201d I hugged Sindee goodbye. \u201cCall the police,\u201d I whispered in her ear.<\/p>\n \u201cI think Sindee should have lunch with us,\u201d Tommy\u2019s father said. \u201cI\u2019d love to talk to your friend.\u201d<\/p>\n And so there we were, in my dressing room again, waiting for burritos to be delivered from El Pollo Loco. Behind closed doors, I told Tommy\u2019s father that Sindee knew who he was.<\/p>\n \u201cSo it looks like you\u2019ll have to commit a double murder today,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cYou should know, Mr. Kok,\u201d Sindee said, \u201cthat Jon had nothing to do with your son\u2019s murder.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShut the fuck up and sit the fuck down, whore!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t talk to her that way,\u201d I said. \u201cIs that the type of Christian language you use to speak to women?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWomen do what men say in my church.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo church is just like porn.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou corrupted my son!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou didn\u2019t support him! You think that just because you feed a kid and send him to school that that makes you a father? No. You have to support what will make your son happy. When he was old enough, he\u2019d learn all on his own that the world is shit. He didn\u2019t need you to tell him too. All you had to do was say: go be happy. I love you and I\u2019m proud of you. Did you ever say that? I bet you didn\u2019t. My dad didn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cStop it!\u201d Sindee cried out. \u201cBoth of you. How is this going to help, Mr. Kok? We can\u2019t bring your son back.\u201d<\/p>\n And that was when Tommy\u2019s dad crumpled on the futon and began to weep. He rested the gun on the dresser and covered his face with both hands. He began to release clenched sobs.<\/p>\n Sindee sat next to Mr. Lin as he cried. I felt bad for him and racked my brain for more memories with Tommy that I could share. He said he hated college. He was glad to be away from home so he could meet women. He flunked out of freshman year. His story was a lot like mine. That\u2019s why I kept talking to him. That\u2019s why I gave him an in. I couldn\u2019t say that I made the right choices. All I could say was that they worked out. Tommy made me feel better about those choices.<\/p>\n \u201cHe wished he didn\u2019t have to choose between you and himself,\u201d I said. \u201cHe told me this. In my suite. While we looked over the Bellagio fountains. He was a good person. I could tell.\u201d<\/p>\n Mr. Lin was in full-on ugly-cry-face mode now. I\u2019m not 100% sure that was a real memory of Tommy. It seemed like something he might say. We did look out over the Bellagio fountains at the AVN awards that year. At least that part was true.<\/p>\n The doorknob started rattling and Mack and Cherry asked what was going on. Sindee and I locked eyes and an understanding passed between us. I swiped the gun and stuffed it in the dresser while she unlocked the door, letting Mack and Cherry in. Before Mr. Lin realized what was happening, I threw myself onto him. Something in the futon frame snapped and it folded flat under our weights, and I held Mr. Lin\u2019s arms down against the mattress. He was just a frail old man who didn\u2019t weigh much more than the women I worked with. I waited for him to stop struggling. I was sitting on his chest like I was the girl on top, and Mack was holding up one of his dungeon paddles, ready to use it. The El Pollo Loco delivery guy appeared in the doorway with our burritos.<\/p>\n How did one even begin to explain a morning like this?<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n I drove Mr. Lin home. A real memory of Tommy in Las Vegas returned. \u201cHe said you always wanted to own a restaurant, but you could never get the funds together. He said you were a good cook.\u201d<\/p>\n For the first time that day, Mr. Lin smiled. Sheepishly so. \u201cThen we had Herbert,\u201d he said, his voice phlegmatic.<\/p>\n When I dropped him off in front of his house in San Gabriel, he got out of the car, looked at me, his lower lip trembling.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you for telling my boy what he wanted to hear,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" “Porn isn’t calculus.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":14928,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[1220,2621,1770],"class_list":["post-14889","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","tag-asian-american","tag-fiction","tag-literary","writer-leland-cheuk"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14889","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14889"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14889\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14909,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14889\/revisions\/14909"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/14928"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14889"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14889"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14889"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}