Bats just shouldn’t go *in* there

yikesbats.jpgNo, I’m not talking about Belladonna and her anal tributes to major league baseball. I was going to put this particularly juicy find on Fleshbot, but I saw that Gram already reviewed the DVD.

However, with all due respek, the only way to do The Princess Has Come of Age any justice in explaining it to you, my dear readers, is for you to watch the extremely NSFW trailer for the big-money CGI porn epic in all its gnome-humping, flower-fucking, robot-grinding, forest-creatures-alarmingly-stuffed-into-orifices glory. Sort of reminds me of (one of) my all-time favorite explicit graphic novels, Bondage Fairies, where tiny cute lesbian fairies Pfil and Pamela have all kinds of outrageous sexual adventures with an array of beasts and bugs (and each other). In it, a thousand year old cedar tree releases libido-enhancing pollen, and we get to see how fairy female ejaculate can cure all ills, with lots of crazy bug sex, tree sex, strap-on sex and BDSM.

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The GETV RoboGames wrapup

robowrap.jpg

Six minutes of robot-smashing action, interspersed with my interviews with the bots’ creators and drivers — most especially cool, I interviewed one of the *only* women in the bot pits, and we talked about her fast and furious machine, Pipe Wench. Very fun! Also — keep in mind that I knew all along what a vicious robot destroyer Mr. Megabyte was when I interviewed him…

Link to post (with bonus footage); link to video (.mov).

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Hooray for Seattle’s HUMP!

hump-intro.jpgLast year my pals in Seattle at The Stranger came up with a great idea: an amateur indy porn film fest and competition, called HUMP! I was invited to go but couldn’t make it — which was probably good because it turned out to be a sold-out event. They’re now taking submissions for this year’s event, HUMP! 2 (8-minute shorts only), and I might try to make the trip to see the screenings (showing September 8-9). Read more about the event in my Fleshbot post HUMP! 2: Call for Indie Porn Submissions and on their HUMP! page. Also, Dan Savage wrote a nice post about my post, making the whole thing a tidy metarecursivebloggyhumpfest.

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Thomas Roche is a beeeyyayayayayatch

I think Thomas beat me at fight club this month. Today I edited five chapters line by line (because an editor *mangled* my manuscript and inserted crazy-wrong pronoun chaos and sex-negative judgements into the text) and just finished a 4K word chapter. And I lost a week, last week, obviously. But Thomas. He’s a beeeyyayayayayatch. He wrote me, “You know that book I was freaking out about a week ago Friday? I finished it last Friday. Seems on Saturday morning I decided I hated all of the 13,000 words I had written (especially “a” “and” and “the”) and I threw it all away. Wrote the 75,000 word manuscript from scratch in six and a half days. Just finished revising it & printing it out. Why do I do this again?”

I get extra fight club points for writing nonfiction, don’t I? Mufucka!

I’m so over the sex act I’m writing about right now I want to change the name of it to “fluffy bunny” throughout the entire text just to keep the insanity at bay… Think The Ultimate Guide to Anally Excitable Fluffy Bunnies Pinching Tiny Little Loaves by Violet Blue, and that’s where I’m at right now.

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Developing Indian obscenity case

I’m fascinated with the way obscenity is monitored in other cultures, most especially countries like India, with their huge entertainment industry and (our) outsourced workforce. I’ve often spent fruitless hours trying to find Indian porn for Fleshbot, or Indian women for the times I’ve done Best of Babelogs posts. I seldom find anything credible, free or respectful… It’s just hard to find. I wonder why? So I’ve been watching the “wardrobe malfunction” hoo-hah that’s been brewing since “Bollyqueen” and model Carol Gracias lost her top during India Lakme Fashion Week last April. Now it seems that there will be a court and police investigation into the matter, with possible charges being filed. It wasn’t just Gracias who had some skin on display, but also model/actress Gauhar Khan. So for fun, I trolled and came up with the sexy pic at right and two videos of the wardrobe malfunctions, after the jump. Like the superbowl nip slip (and the insane new FCC fines imposed for “indecency” — tenfold — where *does* that money go?), it’s hard to believe this is all such a big deal.


* * * * * * *

Carol Gracias:

Gauhar Khan:

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The theme is glitter

My world folded in on itself for a bit; thanks for staying with me. Miss Jessi has thrown down the gauntlet: last year we won a kissing contest at Pride and she called me an hour ago, “What are you doing and what are you wearing?” Me: “I’m in my pajamas staring out the window watching homosexuals walk by my house.” She replied, “This now the Iron Chef of sluttiness and femminess: put down your pool boy and get your false eyelashes on. The theme is glitter. We’re going to terrorize the gay bars.”

Sweet: back to normal! I’ll post pics later if I can still drive a mouse.

Update: whole recap is here — it’s mostly a Castro bar review, so I felt it fit better on Metblogs. My whole Pride 2006 album is here.

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To the funeral now

Sunday update: It has been so strange in so many ways. I think the most odd feeling was to meet people she loved and who loved her who I did not know at all, and have them say, “She talked about you a lot.” It was also strange to have a number of people find out about Jesse because they read my blog; I never put her name in the post, just her picture, but started getting emails from people I didn’t know and a few long-lost friends who read this blog, to connect, and to find out where the funeral was. I also had to break the news to several people throughout the week; grown men crying on the phone will never be easy to navigate. I also didn’t realize I hadn’t eaten a meal since monday; the cute skater boy and I caught up after ten years of not being in each others’ lives, and he brought me food, and made me eat, many times. Time and life shook hands and said goodbye; no one at the funeral really talked about what actually happened to Jesse. After the funeral, I found an anonymous blog post in which she had poured her heart out to someone she barely knew. If you want to know more about what happened to Jesse, here’s the post.

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