Synesthesia Interview — Coming In Color

I love the adorable retro sex site, Lippy Imp — and Lippy loves me back! No more lonely nights, ahhh. Check out the big, fat and happy interview with me on Lippy Imp, which is actually my favorite interview to date. I’ve been interviewed by places as far and wide as Esquire magazine and the Discovery Channel, but this one’s my favorite because I feel like I finally got a chance to comment on how I think our culture is affected by what people like me are doing. Yay!

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Tons of Mail

Wow, I’ve been getting oodles of mail lately — yay! I went to a wedding this weekend here in town, where one of my oldest friends married her butch girlfriend of many years. After a week of dealing with that porn industry woman angrily criticizing my upcoming book based on its being geared toward female viewers, couples and films focused on female pleasure, being at my friends’ all-inclusive wedding was like food for my soul. As is much of the mail I’ve received on the topic. Last week when I worked at the Good Vibes store I recounted my magazine-lady experience to an African-American feminist I work with, and she told me she wasn’t surprised at all. "What do you mean? I’m kinda shocked," I told her. She explained to me that African-American culture has a term for people like the magazine editor lady, a term I can’t repeat here. She said that it’s a term referring to when a black person gets into a previously all-white enclave of some kind, and then is the only person of color there — and acts as a sentinel, guarding against the inclusion of other people of color, not allowing them in. She told me that this editor lady was being exactly like that, guarding against other women who didn’t tow the line or who might challenge what her position is built upon, in an industry built on male and female stereotypes. It’s an interesting point, as interesting as one reader who wrote me saying, "…it sounds like you’re taking on some of the myths of the industry that continue to undermine it. You citing the porn-industry mag woman who criticized your assumption about your audience really hit home, except I’m a man and enjoy porn and erotica of all types, and the industry just doesn’t get it. Jesus, with the millions they’re making you’d think they could take a risk or two occasionally, I mean look how popular Fashionistas is, that’s not standard fare!"

Indeed. You can tell this is really on my mind, but I’m excited by it at the same time. So I dug up a bunch of recent articles on women and porn, and the mainstreaming of porn in general:

Recent porn studies and women:,4057,6932943%255E1702,00.html

Porn for women in the UK:

Porn mainstreaming:

On other fronts, I think I’m finally over my evil allergic reaction to Burning Man (playa dust) and can get back on the porn reviewing train. Ahhh — yesterday I watched the newest video from indy porn makers Blowfish Video, Clearly Sex, and had the masturbation session of my life. Or at least of the weekend. This video is a great example of San Francisco porn (unlike the drek my company makes). Hot, sexy women with incredible natural bodies (they look like hotties that might work at the local hip café) experiment ten ways until Sunday with every hard acrylic toy that Blowfish carries, yum! You see, to get my interest with girl-girl and female masturbation fare, the women must have bodies similar to mine and have to be really getting off and having fun. And in this video they are all that. One steamy masturbation scene opens the video, then there is a brief interruption as we see how the toys are made (it’s cool if you like tech stuff and lathes, like me), then four women try out a bunch of toys. Let’s just say they were very inventive with positions. The final scene was with a het couple where they have sex while he enjoys a butt plug, but sadly there’s no come shot, and you know how I objectify men… but they are cute and loving and very tender and sweet, which sure is a nice change from most of the porn out there. So that’s my pick ‘o the week. Now, back to the next two books, a couple proposals, pitching an article, and firing up my poor neglected motorcycle.

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Lick My Gubernatorial Platforms, You Worm

And I thought Larry Flynt running for governor of my fair native state was cool. Adult supermodel and queen of big-boobie naked jumping jacks Mary Carey is in the running, and with many, er, interesting platforms (and not just of the spike-heeled variety). Along with taxing breast implants, making lap dances tax deductible and a "porn for pistols" anti-violence exchange program, I think my favorite platform of Carey’s is:

"4. If I’m elected Governor, I will wire the Governor’s Mansion with live web cams in every room. We will create a pay site, and all money collected will go toward reducing the deficit. Californians will get to see their government in action — literally!"

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Women Watch Porn, Dammit!

Often in the business of working with small, independent book publishers (as I do), the publisher will impress upon the author to garner quotes from various sources with which to grace the book’s cover. These quotes are intended to help book sales, give browsers an idea of what someone else thought about it, and the sources of the quotes round out the book’s suggested audience. Big publishers do this too, but with small ones, the onus is on the author to select quoters, and solicit the quotes personally.

So for The Ultimate Guide to Adult Videos, available in about one month, I gathered together a not-short list of interested parties who I felt would give a good varied perspective on the weighty tome. I gave each of the quoters a caveat: only if they liked the book were they encouraged to give a quote. So the minute galleys (photocopies of the book in final layout, with all the art) were sent, to my happy surprise, the man I sent one to at Playboy loved it and immediately sent me more praise than I imagined. My head was so big from the compliments, I could barely squeeze out of my office cubicle at Good Vibrations.

But when I got back from my ill-fated weekend in the desert, I had a non-lovely, cold, curt and short email form someone I’d sent the galley to. This woman works for a big, well-known porn industry magazine, created by and for the world of mainstream adult, and is sold only at adult stores. She was very upset, and said she wouldn’t be giving me any endorsement, and provided her personal phone number. So I called he to find out what her issues were, and to garner some feedback.

As it turns out, she was quite cagey on specifics. She said there were problems, but wouldn’t tell me what they were, and the ones she did specify seemed odd — she said I should have included titles that (when I checked) still aren’t available for consumers, and complained that I mentioned her magazine’s website’s pop-up. But what really bothered her about the whole book, the big main problem, and why she only read the first hundred pages, was that the book "is too focused on the reader being a woman."

I realized that I probably shouldn’t tell her that the book was written primarily for couples that include women. Can you imagine my amazement to hear this coming from a woman, nonetheless a prominent female editor in the adult industry? Well, I’m not totally surprised — the book is a highly critical examination of porn from the perspective of a consumer — a female consumer. I don’t expect anyone who thinks that only men watch porn to like my book. I just can’t believe that someone who promotes porn for a living (as she does) would virulently overlook a huge and growing consumer market, as seen in this recent article by the Sydney Morning Herald about the growing number of female porn consumers, not to mention the explosive growth of sites like mine, and women-owned sex shops (like my employer) that are thriving on a female porn viewership.

I scratch my head, and await more comments. Meanwhile, here’s what Mike Osterowski, Correspondent at Playboy Magazine said:

*Violet Blue’s chapters on "Safer Sex in Porn" and "Porn Terminology and Sex Act Glossary" are alone worth the cost of the book. This is highly intelligent, incredibly up-to-date information, some of which actually could save your life. Worth reading, worth buying, worth keeping. This book contains more contemporary resources and current information on adult videos and sex than any I’ve seen in a long time. Violet Blue is fast becoming the goddess of "Ultimate Guides," and this one (her third) is her best to date.*


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I Am Allergic to Burning Man

Ugh, I’m sitting here, after writing five porn reviews, with my fourth nosebleed in two days. I have just returned from an ill-fated, ill-advised trip to the Black Rock desert (home of the hateful Burning Man festival), and I am definitely allergic to something in the desert dust out there. Which is just fine with me, as I never plan on going there again. Don’t get me wrong — I love the desert and camping. But I don’t love allergies and nosebleeds, paying to attend a party that others show up to for free, and no, I have never been to Burning Man and no I don’t want to go. No, SRL has never done a show there (though members have taken their personal machines out there). My first encounter with a "burner" was a guy in a bar several years ago who was showing his pictures, photos of naked girls looking very pissed off, and lots of photos of just their tits. When I went to the Exotic Erotic Ball last year I found a disposable camera on the floor and got the film developed the next day, and the pictures were exactly the same. So it’s like Exotic Erotic, but in the middle of nowhere and you’re trapped for days on end, and you paid a lot of money, and there are a lot of hippies, you’re ruining delicate desert ecology with 30,000 mostly amateur partiers, and you can’t even shoot guns. Well, my weekend wasn’t exactly what I’d call Exotic Erotic in the desert because they were all seasoned partiers and excellent musicians, but I wouldn’t call it the "feel good event of the summer" either. Meanwhile, my pal Thomas house-sat for me and wrote erotic stories about cannibals on my computer, and he was used and abused by my 17 lb. cat, who is a huge love slut. (The cat is the slut — I wouldn’t know about Thomas.) I should’ve stayed at home and answered your mail — I’ve been getting tons of email lately and I will answer you soon.

Let me rewind to last Thursday, because it was a wonderful day filled with sexual frustration and the joy that comes when you discover porn that really does the trick. I am a dirty girl. But I am not alone. I know there are others like me — lots of others. Thursday while working at the Good Vibes store, I surfed porn on my break. That’s usually part of my job, but porn on GV time is seldom any kind of porn I’d get off to, and I almost never get turned on at work — unless I’m working at home, and rarely on Internet porn like I did the other day. Oh, it’s bad to admit that I got turned on at work, but spank me, I did.

I am unabashedly bisexual, though men really rev my motor. Mmmm, men — stubble, broad chests, stiff cocks and hands gripped around them in a fist. I’ll bet about a million other straight gals will agree with me, and I often fantasize — as do other women and oodles of gay men — about sexy men masturbating. It’s a little frustrating that 99.9% of the porn and websites out there show women masturbating in ten million different ways, but few ever show guys. I’ve long dreamed of role-reversal in porn formula, where in each porn film there is the obligatory male masturbation scene, and why not throw in an obligatory guy-guy scene right along with the typical girl-girl scenes in the formula? Oh, I know why — because porn only ever assumes a homophobic male audience, and the people who make porn are suffocatingly heterosexual and quite homophobic themselves. But the rest of us kinky straight and bi folks — and there’s a lot of us — can dare to dream.

I subscribe to Blowfish‘s email newsletter and in their latest issue one of the writers links to a site that caters to a fetish that I’ve been asked about by a surprising number of Tiny Nibbles readers: clothed female, nude male. It’s called CFNM, and it’s where a woman is clothed, sometimes incidentally or sometimes in a way that indicates domination, with a naked man. Think female news reporters and locker rooms, or nurses and a naked male patient. But what I didn’t expect to find on this site is one of the things I crave to see more of — men masturbating for women. (Look for gifs linked to from this page… they’re "for the ladies." Uh-huh.) And then I discovered something else just as hot — a vast, vast site dedicated to pictures of hand jobs. Eh. Wow. C’mere young man, let me objectify you.

So my weekend bombed. But I did have a great conversation with a sexy female trumpet player. She is hot, hot, hot. We stood there in the middle of the desert at sunset in full costume — hers Marching Band uniform, mine long silver gloves, silver high heels, long silver backless gown and piled-high tomato-red Victorian pincurl wig. Waiting for the first of many long waits to come, we drank beer and huffed whippets (remember junior high?) and talked about sex. She plied me for a list of sex acts I’ve never tried. I promised her a list in this weblog sometime this week…

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A Private Invitation

Well, now I can finally talk about it, now that it’s been posted on the local community arts resource (and resource for what’s happening in the real SF underground nightlife) the Squidlist. Months of hard work and intricate planning has led to an exclusive event, a dinner hosted by the Extra Action Marching Band, catered by SF gypsy restaurant Bistro E Europe, and with a roster of highly skilled musicians and performers, all at different elaborately constructed stages at undisclosed locations in the desert. It’s going to be like a crazy Emir Kusturica film meets Fellini, with a heavy dose of sex, alcohol and major costuming. It’s a formal dinner party in the middle of nowhwere. I’m on Extra Action’s email list, so I got to be one of the first to hear about it, and bought the expensive ticket right away — $100 to $150, you camp in the desert, and the official starting time is sundown, with the party officially over at sunrise. I’ve been working extra hard to be able to take time out from book deadlines to go — and it’s exactly the crazy, decadent break I’ve been dreaming of. The email read like this:

"This is a private and extremely special event and we want to let the people on this list know about it before we publicize it further… Setting Sail from a mystery location in Nevada…just before sunset to sunrise of the following day (should it arrive). Join the crew of La Contessa and Extra Action Marching Band… A High Desert Reinterpretation of Ancient Maritime Legend! La Contessa, The Great White Whale, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Sea Monsters, Treasure, and The Dreaded Sirens of Cocktail Island are all assembling for an epic journey!!!"

I’m so excited I could pee myself, except then there would be a mess. La Contessa is this amazing recreation of an authentic Spanish Galleon built around a bus, and though I haven’t seen it in person, looks in pictures to be amazing — I read about the engineering in an engineering magazine that fetaured it as a cover story, the designer being a cute horn player in the band himself. There’s a full deck, crow’s nests, a full bar inside, and I heard that the trapeze act will perform in the masts. Also, this local performace artist dude who is kinda funny if not just really quick-witted, Hal Robins will recite the "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" while the band plays accompanying music — meanwhile, the guests are to be ferried from isalnd to island in the desert for a formal dinner party and more performances. Who dreams this stuff up? Who cares — I readily coughed up the dough, and spent even more on a formal fetish outfit. That evening is promising a meteor shower delivering 60 shooting stars each hour, and all in all, I feel like I’m going to an adult Dinsneyland — better yet, a trip into my favorite parts of my all-time favorite movie, Black Cat, White Cat. Tonight I might be writing about porn videos that wish they could convey creativity and decadent sexual expression; this weekend I’ll be setting sail for La Dolce Vita in all its turbulence, chaos, sweaty sexuality, musical mayhem, loss and redemption, and alcoholic exuberance. I’m bringing lube, a whip, a camera, high heels, stay-put lipstick, a shimmery gown, goggles, instant espresso, and I’m shaving everything, because you never know what might happen out there, alone in the desert with 40+ gorgeous musicians and 100 strangers, at a formal, all-night party…

Other things on my mind: two "new," though not really at all new permutations of male sexual identity now floating around the collective conscious ether. One is the "Down Low" phenomenon, where men of color (primarily African-American) identify as straight but have sex with other men — it’s surprisingly common, HIV is a huge concern, and lots of these guys come from very macho environments — they keep their activities on the "down low." The other, my personal favorite (though till now they haven’t had a name) is the "metrosexual," guys who like women but are so comfy with their sexuality they mix masculine with feminine in their methods of dress, are groomed like gay men, and have associations of all sexual identities. It’s like this guy I know — he dyes his hair, wears nail polish, plays trumpet superbly in several bands around town, wears tight little t-shirts, sometimes wears a skirt/pasties, and always has girlfriends. One time I heard two macho dudes making fun of him, and I let them know that that my friend gets girl action more than any guy I’ve ever seen — and unlike the macho guys, he seems to know what to do with all the attention he gets. He wears it like a tailored suit.

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Beer for Beeyatches

Up late working on an anthology (reading some of the dirtiest short stories I’ve ever read, by the way — may have to take a "personal break" soon!). Thomas Roche is also up late working on one of his many anthology or novel projects — and probably procrastinating in the way we writers do late at night, and is sending me hilarious emails. He read my web log and in response to the below TNN entry, sent:
" These guys need to talk to the TNN marketing execs…."

This, after reading a riveting story where two luscious babes, one married and one single and out for a visit with her old college pal, attack the husband with strap-ons. Beer for women, indeed! Fill ‘er (or ‘im) up!

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