![]() I wriggle free and punch him in the face, closed-fist but not too hard. Because filming wasn’t allowed inside, he and his newly discovered entourage had stepped outside, heading for the confines of a “Girls Gone Wild” tour bus parked across the street.īefore climbing aboard, he walks in my direction, and the next thing I know, he’s acting out his 2003 arrest on me. He’d scoured the club, recruiting young and, for the most part, intoxicated women. In exchange, a girl who goes wild will receive a T-shirt, a pair of panties, maybe a trucker hat. He’s made a fortune selling videos of women who agree to flash their breasts and French-kiss their friends for the cameras. Clubs like this are fertile fields for Francis. Tonight we had spent almost five hours in a sweaty nightclub, crowded with 2,500 very young and very drunk people. I’ve been with him nonstop since early afternoon, listening as he teases employees, flying on his private jet, eating fast food and watching young women hurl themselves against his 6-foot-2-inch frame, declaring, “We want to go wild!” ![]() This is not what I anticipated when I signed up for a tour of Joe Francis’ world. This much is certain: He’s got at least 80 pounds on me and I’m thinking he’s about to break my left arm. As he yells, I wonder if this is a flashback, or if he’s punishing me for being the only blond in sight who’s not wearing a thong. He’s going on and on about Panama City Beach, the spring break spot in northern Florida where Bay County sheriff’s deputies arrested him three years ago on charges of racketeering, drug trafficking and promoting the sexual performance of a child. He has turned on me, and I don’t know why. ![]() Electronic music is buzzing from the nightclub across the street, mixing easily with the laughter of the guys who are watching this, this me-pinned-and-helpless thing. and we’re in a parking lot on the outskirts of Chicago. He’s pushing himself against me, shouting: “This is what they did to me in Panama City!” He has my face pressed against the hood of a car, my arms twisted hard behind my back. Joe Francis, the founder of the “Girls Gone Wild” empire, is humiliating me.
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