Thier Taste in Music Sucks, Too

I have been off the blog for a while — I’ve been really missing it. Unfortunately, a bunch of creepy frat boys have moved in upstairs, above my apartment, making my life into a living hell of constant loud music, yelling, playing some sport in the living room, and parties that rage into the night. I’ve tried everything — negotiating quiet times with them, cops, complaints to the landlord, calling my lawyer. The landlord has done nothing, the frat boys told me that "because you live downstairs, it’s your problem," and I don’t want to go to court and waste my time when I have five (!) book deadlines this year. To make a long story short, I am moving out, fast. So while the G4 (and the vibrators) will be the last thing to be unplugged, my life is chaotic.

Strange and interesting things are afoot, however. The woman who chopped my writing into tiny bits at Good Vibes is now gone and I am writing weird and wonderful and wacky things about sex as I please — if you subscribe to the email newsletter, you probably noticed a change in tone last week. Now I can be a first-class sex dork! Ahhh, breathing room. Also at Good Vibes, in a strange twist of fate, or twist of my knickers, Carol Queen has wrangled me into hanging some of my paintings as an art show in one of the stores — the very same paintings that had to be taken down in my own office for offending someone. Fancy that!

And a little over a week ago, a little bird emailed me at short notice and set up a midnight cocktail meeting/interview with porn director Axel Braun, and I highly suggest that you read all about right here. He’s a cool guy — even if his fingers are insured for $2 million for his "ability to make any woman female ejaculate." I simply found him to be an unusually articulate artist in a sea of bad pornographers. Tonight, I’ll be watching his award-winning film Compulsion to see how his talk meets up with his craft.

I’ve been doing interviews amidst all the boxes and chaos. (I had no idea I had over twelve boxes of books, and they are almost all sex-related.) My favorite interview so far has been live on the Derek and Romaine Show for Sirius OutQ satellite radio show. They were hilarious, and unlike regular radio shows, I could say anything I wanted. I adored their witty callers, especially the man who wanted tips on how he could become a gay male porn fluffer. I suggested he stand around outside gay porn shoots with a sign that reads "Will fluff for… nothing!" But my next interview is exciting on another level — someone is putting together a public radio segment on work-specific lingo. And boy, do I wander through minefields of odd lingo in the course of my job, in the sex biz, and especially dealing with the porn industry. I can’t wait to do the interview.

Okay, back to packing. I’ve given away piles of porn in my moving clean-out, and my friends are soooo happy. And sore. And possibly going blind.

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Conversations With a Real Doll

I have no problem admitting to having sexual fantasies about RealDolls — you know, those freakily realistic sex dolls made of silicone on a metal skeleton, custom-made from templates of eye color, pussy hair styles… etc., etc. They’re strange and otherworldly, and yet, growing up reading Omni magazine and all the sci-fi and horror books I could get my hands on, I know I had many a fantasy involving android life forms. I think I still do. Going to AVN last year and being in the booth across form the RealDoll people peaked my imagination, and I often drifted over to the bizarre booth of limbless torsos, eerily life-like severed heads and boobs-without-a-body. I chatted up the Real Doll folks while absentmindedly squeezing boobies and fingering orifices — but hey, everyone was doing it. Really.

Regular readers will remember my RealDoll fantasy orgy, where I discovered that RealDoll had created a stiff and lifeless male doll — I could only imagine the many strange combinations I could get myself into with a male and female doll, lubricants, inebriants, accelerants and total lack-of-pants. There were offers to fund my delightful fantasy, but sadly, no true offers came to pass.

Then around December of last year, I joined one of those Friendster-like services. I resisted for a long time; my pal Thomas Roche did everything he could to get me over to the dark side. Finally, when I was invited to the SRL "tribe" on, I caved in to the conformity, made a profile, joined tribes, and began enjoying various kinds of mischief. I never expected to meet a RealDoll.

One day, in my inbox was a message from a woman named "Charlie" wanting to be my friend. I know a few men named Charlie, but no women. Curious, I clicked on her personal profile — and there I found some very strange pictures. Pictures of a blonde RealDoll making food in a kitchen. At a desk writing a letter. In different themed outfits; one as a cowgirl labeled, "playing with my shiny gun." Pictures of other RealDolls dressed in various outfits, a male doll dressed in a Superman costume, labeled "my friend John as a superhero!" "My friend Sidore!"

Her profile was complete. Occupation: model. Industry: entertainment. Specialties: lingerie, motorcycles, cars. Skills: I can hold any pose for as long as you require! Past Positions: all of ’em!

It got better. Favorite Music: Dolly Parton, New York Dolls, Goo Goo Dolls. Favorite Movies/TV: Westworld, Stepford Wives, A Doll’s House, Valley of the Dolls, Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, The Devil Doll, Trilogy of Terror. Here for: to find someone who can see the real me beneath my superficial beauty!

Intrigued beyond reproach, I wondered if someone had read my Fantasy RealDoll Orgy blog entry, and now it was my turn to be at the (by now, well deserved) receiving end of a well-thought-out prank. I peered closely at the pictures and found a faint watermark of… a website. "" Turns out, this is the real, living breathing site of a Real Doll. What? Check it out — Charlie writes letters, has sexy photo shoots with her friends… Truth be told, while the thought of someone doing all this seems like an episode from Tales From the Darkside (and I think it is, for me at least), I actually see little difference between Charlie Joanne’s site and the newest issue of Playboy that happens to be sitting next to me on the desk as I type this, with a very freaky looking airbrushed and digitally manipulated Jaime Pressly on the cover (and whose pictoral looks exactly, shot-for-shot like ones from about twenty years ago).

So out of curiosity, Charlie Joanne is my friend. She wrote, "Let’s be friends! I’ll introduce you to some of my maledoll boyfriends!"

I was game — even if it’s some 55-year-old guy with a comb-over that lives in a trailer and smokes menthols, it’s a pretty brilliant prank, impersonating a RealDoll who has "her" own site. I wrote back, "Hey Hotpants, I’d love to meet one of your rubberboys — and Charlie, you are one sexy silicone seductress. Good thing silicone only melts at very high temperatures! I especially love your website!"

Sadly, no male dolls were shipped to Good Vibrations with my name on them. Charlie Joanne sent me:

And now — Charlie Joanne has disappeared into the ether. Gone from, and gone from my dreams, but at least I can still visit her website and watch her frolic with friends who never grow old, never get sad, and never die. They also never seem to get laid.


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Back from AVN!

I’m back home, yay! I had a really great time, and I’ll tell you all about it and post more pics — but I’ve only had three hours of sleep and just want to watch horror movies. Until I’m alive enough to give a full report, enjoy these two sample pics from my four hours of photo sessions yesterday in my hotel room at the Venetian…

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We Can All Tell She’s Faking It

First, it’s bad, it’s hilarious, it’s the Rotten Dead Pool.

Next, I got an email today that is very typical of the type of letters I get (see, they’re not all marriage proposals from oversized Elvis impersonators). I get piles of well-written and articulate letters from oodles of couples (and singles) who are just regular folks that watch porn for lusty recreation — and wish that more attention was *really* being paid to female pleasure, because like duh, it’s the other half of the equation for all of us nice straight and bi people, and anyone who loves having sex with women wants to see them (us) enjoying it. Sorry Jenna, we can all tell you’re faking it. Well, since it’s AVN awards/convention week, I figured I’d cut and paste this letter, so you can see the kinds of letters I relish receiving, and that I answer every week:

My wife and I have watched adult films as an accessory to our lovemaking for over twenty years. Since there is so much dreck* being produced by the industry, we have relied upon recommendations made in the Adam Film World annual guide. Even this has been hit and miss, since our own sensibilities are not well-reflected there. But it was better than reading the covers on the boxes.

Our relatively-recent discovery of your reviews on the Good Vibrations website and now your Tiny Nibbles website has greatly assisted our enjoyment of films. We certainly subscribe to the criteria you use in your reviews. They are both appropriate measures for reviews of adult films and sufficiently descriptive to be helpful to those searching for a new treat. We look forward to purchasing your new guide soon. Thank you.

However, we have a question to pose that arises from our film-watching experience that we’ve never seen anyone address. It’s about female orgasms.

Along with good film-making, what we most like watching is sex between people who are turned on to each other AND where there is equal opportunity pleasuring leading to mutual orgasms. The male orgasm appears to be the industry gold standard, yet we both think it’s one short of a complete experience. How many films have you seen where it’s the female who orgasms while the male remains unsatisfied? It seems to us that these vestigial images of male dominance are very unsexy.

We imagine we aren’t alone in the quest to see more female orgasms in the context of hot couples sex on film, given the size of the couples market for porn. As a male, it’s an essential part of a peak experience for me to bring my wife to orgasm. Yet, it is rarely depicted in adult films and we’ve often wondered why.

We thought you might have some insights to share in answer to that question. Maybe you could add this criteria to the list you use in your reviews, acknowledging that your "chemistry" criteria is truly a great step forward. And maybe you’ve got some films to recommend, too.

* I just love that word "drek"! I have used it in describing bad porn before and angered many.

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Packed and perky

If I sit on my suitcase, it’ll close. That’s what I tell myself, looking at the heaping pile of clothing on top of the yawning mouth that should be my easy-trundle case. Normally, even for such a looky-loo faux-glamour event such as AVN I’d not pack as much, but (good news for people who love bad news) I got the news that my bestest friend Thomas is going to be there — and we’re doing three hours of erotic photos the minute I get in. He’s been busy as a photographer (look at his site), and he’s shooting me for (hopefully) my Suicide Girls set, book covers for a British S/M book company and general fun photos for you, dear readers. So I’m overpacked with billions of little bits of lingerie — quite comical when you think about it.

The other good news is that AVN might not be the fully dismal silicone convention after all — my pal Crankypants (remember him from when I had to entertain my French publisher?), Carol, Nina and my pal from SRL, X will be there and ready to make a possy and cause trouble with me. And I have a high-speed connection in my room (though it’s Vegas, and their version of "high-speed" might be a courier that does a lot of crank).

The lame news is that I won’t be able to blog while I’m gone, at least in the conventional sense. If regular blogging is the missionary position, we’re going to try a little oral and doggie for the next few days — I’m bringing my full podcasting rig (watch here for MP3’s), will also be podcasting from my phone, and will be photoblogging on Fotki. I fired Type Pad as a possible service and didn’t get Dreamweaver loaded on my iBook in time (with all my files, etc.), so no regular blog. Why so crazed? Well, I’m doing a benefit for the Center for Sex and Culture when I get back — on January 14, I’ll be hosting a Bad Porn Festival, and I’ve been busy editing together the worst scenes in porn I’ve ever seen. (And missing a book deadline waiting for contributors to get their shit together, you know who you are!) I’m swamped, so sorry if you’ve emailed me and I’m very, very late with a reply — don’t fret, I’ll get to my reader mail soon!

So, armed with visuals and audio, off I go into the weirdness of AVN. I leave home tomorrow at 9am, and I hope Hornboy can find something to do with my embarrasingly large porn collection while I’m gone…

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Fear and Loathing at AVN

I visited a professional acquaintance at his job the other day, actually I was invited to watch a taping of a locally filmed TV show, and when we had time to chat he told me he’s going to the Adult Video News awards and convention in Las Vegas next week. He seemed excited to "find people to have on the show" and that he’d already been "invited to a few orgies." I’ll bet he has, and I told him he wouldn’t have any problem finding chicks to take off their tops on his show. "What you will have a problem finding" I told him, "is substance."

I wanted to give him advice. Dozens of thoughts raced through my mind. My experience last year was Boot Camp for the Female Ego, and I wanted to translate it to him from one side of the gender divide to another. I won’t be going this year — though I would if my publisher had a booth this year and if I didn’t have a huge SRL show in Vegas a month from now. I’ll really miss meeting some cool people that I’ve formed friendships with via email over the past year, people who like me, want to make intelligent places for women and porn consumers in general to go, forward-thinking backlashes against the seas of cheese. If I did go, I’d surely lurk at Freddy and Eddy‘s booth, pester the guys at Wantedlist and Sugar DVD, drink many drinks with Carly Milne, and hide out with other friends who will be on hand such as Carol Queen, Nina Hartley and Ernest Greene.

But here is what I wanted to tell Producer Guy about what I learned at AVN last year:

* Women really can have voices like car alarms. They will speak to you with the patter of evil babies.
* The ratio of men to women is about fifty to one.
* There will be three gay men there — I found them all last year. Where’s Waldo?
* They have to post security guards outside all the women’s bathrooms to keep the men out. This is chilling when you think about why.
* As a het guy, one with a brain anyway, you will despise your own kind in about five minutes. When a woman drops a pencil, twenty guys ("fans") with cameras stick their lenses in her ass crack — literally. You will think you were raised in a different country, one where sheep were safe to sleep alone at night.
* It is most fascinating to take pictures of the crowds of men trying to get their cameras as close as they can to titties, pussy and ass. They have no awareness of anything else and do not notice their pictures being taken, or how much they are rubbing up against other men to get their shot. I took many pics with the porn chicks on the left and hoards of men to the right. Whenever anyone was aware of a camera pointing in their direction or their picture being taken, they were female.
* With one or two exceptions, every "fan" there wants to find out how he can "bang porn chicks." None of them ever do.
* Wear a condom. Always. Even when you’re walking around.
* If you are a woman and you are not in couture de Frederick’s of Hollywood, you will have discovered a magical invisibility spell. I wore leather pants and one of my mechanic’s shirts, and was totally ignored; though I pushed to get a few interviews for my video book. I got very few, and no one of high stature would speak with me — that was fine, because I wanted to know how regular women (women who watch porn, natch) would be treated by the industry. That experience is a whole other entry.
* You will think everyone in the porn industry is speaking with the translation of a wrongly dubbed foreign film. "Did you see Fluffy Cumsalot axmightyipo supulopsity in her repindytoism toglahdash, turn around for a little nobishty bitoshing, take witumin stumpido up her frodifer doky, then got plodkin while Dick Everhard came all over her face?"
* The Las Vegas strip was designed as a special kind of hell for vegetarians.
* Hunter S. Thompson got the dosage of medication correct needed to survive AVN. I will not go back unless I have really good drugs.
* In person, surgically enhanced porn chicks and trannies are indistinguishable. Just try to tell them apart.
* The only way to attend and keep your sanity is to be paid for your time there.
* You are one of many "producers."
* Somehow, a convention on porn manages to remove the pleasure for everyone involved.
* You will never get the smell of smoke out of your hair or clothing. Try to wait until you leave to burn all of your clothing and shave your head.
* Your intuition is right — "gaping anal" has nothing to do with the craft of filmmaking.

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