Caption contest winners

There were way too many funny entries, so enjoy the three excellent winning captions and indulge yourself with the runner-ups… The top three, in order:

“This was a gift to the President from Jeff Gannon.” –Noka, US

“You see, Mrs. Bush, the Exxxtreme 3000 dildo has a
flared base, which was the reason we were able to
extract it from Jenna’s loose, cavernous, ass.” —Chriso

“… no, Mrs Bush, in fact in this case ‘WMD’ stands for Weapon of Mass Dilation.” At which point Darren said “Oh, I’m sure you know a bigger prick, Mrs Bush,” and they all laughed heartily. –Randy Pan the Goat Boy, London

Laura Bush’s sloppy seconds:

“After we totally fuck the Earth, this is what we hope
to use to fuck Mars.” –Noka, US

“Ma’am, his head has been up there so long that I believe only our hunka-hunka burnin’ love size will give him any stimulation whatsoever.” –Spacekat

“So we figure that in order to accomplish his mission to fuck the whole
country, we’re going to have to have W wear this.” —Dan

“Why,” Laura mused, “does that thing remind me of Dick Cheney?” –Professor E, CA

“So that’s why W didn’t want me, Barbara and Jenna to help find those weapons of mass destruction…” –Jean Duke, Washington DC

Congratulations, winners! In tribute to the (Bush regieme’s) Attorney General’s new promise to crack down on porn, the winners will get mystery porn packages sent by me and will contain all the lubricious promises that a package packed with hours of masturbation can possibly provide, meaning some good porn and some lame porn. Special thanks to pjk for the pic!

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“Former Playgirl Editor-in-Chief Can’t Get Presidential Semen Stains Out Of Gap Dress”

Apparently they fired her while I was there, but I didn’t know it. And it’s still really impossible to resist making fun of Michele Zipp right now. Who doesn’t love a nice, hot piece of Republican ass? (Seacrest: OUT!) Well, okay, I met her for one second when I was in NY last week, and she seemed nice enough. But I’ll admit I was a bit cold toward her. It’s only because she violated me mentally with that awful essay, using Vaseline with sand for lube.

I don’t really like dems or ‘pubs; my dislike for what’s going on in the US is equal opportunity. But mixing sex and politics always kills my woody. Even worse when the visuals are cruel and unusual punishment (not to mention the grammar), as in what Zipp wrote in her bizarre little piece, the one that set me off before my trip. I can heal by sharing:

“Think about the George Bush/Dick Cheney camp’s phrase for the Iraq war: Shock and Awe. I don’t know about you, but I love to be shocked and awed nightly. And let’s just take a moment to look back at the two ‘dirtiest’ words I’ve used: Bush and Dick. Now that’s hot and it’s in the White House.”

“Look at Senator Kerry. After he lost to Bush in ’04, do you think Theresa gave him some sympathy sex? I’d venture to say that I doubt it.”

“… And for some reason I think that, yes, Tipper gave Al some bush after George defeated him.”

“…please don’t hold me responsible for just putting forth my opinion.”

“Lest we forget that Arnold married into the most famous blue party family: Democrat wife Maria Shriver is part of the Kennedy clan. I imagine their sex life to be rigorous, sweaty, and non-stop-until-she-comes kind of sex.”

“Red, the Republican color, is the color of lust, romance, passion, the devil, and Valentine’s Day. Democratic blue is cool, detached, icy, blue balls.”

“The Democrats of the Sixties were all about making love and not war while a war-loving Republican is a man who would fight, bleed, sacrifice and die for his country. Could you imagine what that very same man would do for his wife in the bedroom? He’d go down on her trying to get her to achieve the ultimate victory: orgasm.”

“Maybe Laura [Bush] gives really good head.”

“If you are a Democrat then maybe these stats (and highly-informed, albeit biased opinions) will make you want to bed a GOP supporter.”

Like, war is *so* hot. Um, is a female Republican pornographer the same as a Jew for Jesus? Needless to say, caption contest winners are going up tomorrow, with a few runner-ups.

So much to make fun of! That is, unless the visuals have you ready to pound finish nails into your gums. Now you have an idea as to why I was reluctant about my trip to meet with Playgirl. What does this editorial have to do with a women’s wank magazine, exactly — and why do I care? I care because there aren’t any women’s wank magazines, and we desperately need one, and we don’t need one that runs pieces that might belong in a high school newspaper if they didn’t have sex in them, or visual imagery that makes me want to rinse my eyes out with lye. This, and Sweet Action, are *it* for the multitudes of girls like me who want to see explicit male sex marketed to us — and I totally will pick up gay mag Inches to get turned on before I’ll grab a watered-down glossy.

I think Zipp had an inherent distaste for the material, gleaned in her AVN quote, “I’m very proud of the redesign I did for 2005. It’s more women friendly, more erotic, rather than straight-out, X-rated and explicit.” C’mon — we can do much, much better than that. What is “women-friendly” porn, exactly, when you’re talking about women who are buying a magazine to look at porn? Porn does not need to be made “safe” for women; watering it down is insulting. The problem was that Zipp’s idea about marketing the magazine toward women, as opposed to gay men, meant that it had to be made safe, not all nasty and gross like homos or what men would want to see. (Hey, this guy‘s a virulently straight, self-professed, pro-porn right-winger.) Maybe Republican women want Zipp’s idea of “erotic,” though I doubt it — especially the women in the White House. But now I can skewer her as Republican and I can say that Playgirl *used* to be Republican porn for women. When you think about it, that explains everything.

And the whole situation explains exactly why I’d never read or bought it. I can’t talk about what I did in NY, but I can say that I didn’t hold back my opinion about women and porn and sex, at all. And you know what? Now I want to work with Playgirl.

I got back from NY having seen none of NY at all. I saw the ugly unwashed butthole known as JFK for a long, long time, rode in a limo for the first time in my life (coke and whores not provided) and walked a few blocks, but that’s it. Oh, I had a de-lish Brooklyn IPA before I passed out from exhaustion. I didn’t get to see Rachel who wanted to make me cupcakes, or Paul who wanted to photograph me, or anyone. Then my flight was delayed for mechanical engine failures, which was totally fucking scary and made me decide I am not traveling ever again unless I am sedated. And I want all families to know that if you have a litter of three or more squalling infants, and no consideration for other human beings, DO NOT TRAVEL. Ever. I got back from NY, had the world’s worst jet lag, then went immediately to SRL and floated around the machine shop like Mr. Mackie on South Park when his head is all big and he floats away. I spent the rest of the weekend doing SRL stuff, making parts for a machine that shoots huge flames, and feel pretty good about the world. Except for having to erase the still-fresh images of narcotized mannequin Maria Shriver having sex with the Gropenator, but then again, I’ve seen the inside of a slaughterhouse before…

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Knock ‘Er Loose

As of tonight, my reign of terror on Fleshbot is over. Well, mostly. I’ve been filling in for Jonno for five nonstop days (of working from am to… am) and it has completely consumed me; add to this a very stressful wrap-up with my Best Sex Writing book that is still managing to be stressful and reminding me that being an editor is worse than herding pigs on ice. Also, Playgirl is flying me to NY tomorrow at 5am for meetings about who knows what… I’m feeling deep under water, with a lot of work and no pay.

It’s exciting about Playgirl, yet apprehensive. I love Jayme Waxman, one of their writers; she’s such a living doll and has a real sex ed background. But I’m not sure what they want from me, and I don’t know if they’ll want to hear my opinion about their magazine. I read the April issue, with a three page piece in it that slams Democrats and touts Republican values, especially in the bedroom, which I found very insulting and repulsive, even as a non-partisan person. *So* not wankable. Of course, I read this after I had agreed to write them a fiction fantasy piece, which I wrote (hot: a real fantasy about a marching band) and turned in last friday. I just don’t know what’s going to happen in NY, except that I have some pretty defined views about politics, women, sex and porn, and I only see a shadow of them in those glossy pages — but then again, I don’t see any hot porn magazines out there for chicks like me except openly gay ones, and the closest was Sweet Action (though I only saw the first issue). In fact, chicks like me have to really hunt for porn we like in general, but you know that.

It will be my first trip to New York. I’m cranky that my time will be completely occupied by work and I won’t get to sightsee or see people I know there that I really want to hang out with in their natural habitat. For instance, I’d like to see Times Square, the park, ground zero, the sex museum, the Daily Show, Steven Colbert’s banana hammock, and oh yeah, friends. Luckily my pal Carly will be there at the same time and she said she’d take me somewhere in the 2-hour window I’ll have free — anywhere! I don’t care!

As you can see by the pics, I did get time away from the ‘Bot to do some work with other bots at SRL; a much-needed respite, and a real need as we have a show coming up very soon. Inbetween Fleshbotting Wet Stewardess Orgies and Furniture Porn posts I’ve spent my time at the SRL shop getting greasy, cut, sore and exteremely happy working on the machines, getting ready for ‘the big push’ to showtime. There are a few key crewmembers missing from this show which means the knowledge falls to remaining core members, like me (and many others). Which is cool because I’m one of the younger ones there, and female. So I’m needed more than usual, which I really like ’cause I love that feeling of being needed and having a place where I belong and stuff.

About Knock ‘Er Loose: that’s basically a kind of Liquid Wrench, a liquid lube for loosening up screws, bolts and other stuck things. See, WD-40, that’s for housewives, just like those Slimline vibrators. Liquid Wrench is like those alien-looking Japanese vibes that hit all the spots at once, the kind with three prongs if you know what I mean. Knock ‘Er Loose is like this bastard lube that Mark got for free because the hardware store had to pull the product from the shelves because of complaints about the name; we keep a piece of the Knock ‘Er Loose box on the wall next to the bible with shotgun holes through it and a homemade pitchfork through the holes, left over from when we had our big bible burn. I digress. I worked over the weekend getting the Inchworm ready for its new hydropump, a 5-gallon tank of hydraulic fluid, and the gears had to be changed to accomodate the new and improved size. Because SRL machines are made as they are modified (they evolve, which is how they survive), everything is welded and bolted on as the machine breaks and modifies with new tech over the years. Getting one gear off and the new one on took two days because of the way history had decided the permanent placement of the shaft (now the dirty talk). Yes, I spent all weekend lubing up a shaft and pulling on it; a dream job if there was one.

We had to heat the gear to 400 degrees to get it to expand enough to pull it on the shaft, very dangerous and fun. Unfortunately the set screw in the gear was heated as well, making the screw seize up, and I had to get all lubey with the Knock ‘Er Loose to get the screw to move.

I’m still covered in bruises, scrapes and grease stains on my hands and arms; I hope they like it at Playgirl that I’m no manicured muffy.

So no Fleshbot for me while I’m gone, and a break will be nice — but I’m stoked that Jonno liked my work, and tonight he asked me to stay on as his co-poster. Yay! I love it. It was intense, searching for stuff all the time, making sure everything is fresh, current or unused, keeping up to the minute with sex news. (Aside: I have a new favorite blog I *love* to watch, Unscathed Corpse.) Very exciting. I even posted a celebrity nipple slip, which kinda make me throw up in my mouth a little but was still fun because I got to make fun, biting the hand that feeds. Then again, this may mean I’m on a fast downhill slide…

It was also very interesting to get so up on where and how to find this information in the blogosphere, and see the various media as they operate, watching sex stories hatch and travel around the ‘net, see how various people handle the topics — and see just how much Fleshbot is watched. I saw certain well-known sites pick up items I had posted, and regurgitate the material, post it on their own sites, and even in the same order that I had put it up, with no reference to Fleshbot. I experimented with them to test my theory. I watched sites try to slam, scoop or discredit things I posted. Facinating. Most of all it’s fun to put my POV out there in the porn world; a world that typically calls anal sex “a pop in the pooper” deserves a bit of indy punk, girl-powered, all-gender and all-orientation sex-positive upheaval. Plus it was real fun to post that Bruce Willis huffed rails off Lindsay Lohan’s ass for his 70th birthday. ‘Cause that’s what I would do. Dammit, that’s what I *will* do.

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Friday pussy blogging guest spot

31-vi.jpgMy pussy has a first name. It’s B-r-i-t-n-e-y. It’s okay, she can’t spell. My pussy does not have a last name, for obvious legal reasons. And today I found out that my pussy can write. To my great dismay, she wrote me this letter:

Hey Violet, hihihi!

Omigawd, how are you? I’m like, totally fine and stuff. Yesterday we went for a walk and that was rilly rilly fun because you wore that black denim Dickies skirt, y’know, the one that’s kinda tight but comfy and short even though you almost NEVER wash it, and I totally watched the ground go by which was kinda cool ’cause we walked through the Castro where all the gays are and I feel totally safe there, and plus the sidewalk is really clean ’cause they practically have rugs from Dax on the sidewalks. OMG — that would be SO COOL!!! I wish they would cover the sidewalks there with Flokati rugs, that would look so neato through your panties, cuz I totally peek out your thong all the time when you’re not looking. See, you’re not the boss of me… [read more]

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Sorceror’s Apprentice

Last night Jonno gave me the keys to Fleshbot and cut me loose — I’ve been totally freaking out and shaking like an heiress’ inbred pooch ever since. He’s on his way to LA to cover the GayVN’s, and after a week of me feeding him 4-6 posts a day, with him as a sassy human filter, he’s having me take over for almost a whole week. It’s really scary; not just the extremely buggy old-world version of MT Gawker uses, but the pressure is intense. I think the chances are pretty good that I’m not quick enough on blogging celebrity nipple slips and sex tapes, mostly because they’re, like, so hot. But you do have to love it when your boss signs off his email with, “…and feel free to call if there’s an emergency or whatever (lawsuit, Lindsay Lohan bukkake video, etc.)”

You must be thinking, who is this Jonno guy and how do I know him? I first met Jonno via email when he started Fleshbot and emailed me to see if I’d be interested in offering up a quote for the then-fledgling site’s front page. Typically I’m pretty guarded about giving up quotes; while a flattering request, I often perceive it as a cheap-ass way for authors and “critics” to get their names on movie/book packaging, and I only will do it if I like the item in question (which doesn’t always make me popular). But I loved Fleshbot from the start, gave him a quote to use, and in a matter of time my quote got bumped from the front page by fancier quoters like The New York Times and Wired, whoever they are.

Anyway, I occasionally heard from Jonno in the way that frequently posting sites with connected/overlapping content do — shared links, “hey did you see this, it goes with your…” Until this year’s AVN convention. My dear, dear pal Carly had arranged a big sex writer’s dinner in Vegas for a bunch of us to meet each other, and while I met lots of people I’d only emailed with previously, two people were missing due to flight mishaps: Tristan and Jonno. Over dinner I learned from Carly that Jonno was, in fact at that very moment, sequestered in her hotel room in a robe with a bottle of something very alcoholic, tethered to a phone trying to find his lost luggage. After dinner I tagged along with Carly to her room and the meeting between Jonno and I was one of those things: the kind of instant recognition between friends, where you both swear you look familiar, finish each other’s sentences, etc. Striking. And surprising to discover at the world’s most superficial convention. The next night we found each other at a big, awful porn star party, and I wrote about the rest of my fobiles running around being fag hag for a weekend. A few things stay marked in my memory. I have many gay male friends, but Jonno is the most affectionate and warm gay friend* I’ve ever had — lots of close contact and warm hand-holds in crowds. He went out of his way to introduce me to people he really likes. And once, in a crowded taxi, the conversation went, “Oh my god, have you seen (blank)? She’s such a …” and Jonno cut him off and said, “Stop! Don’t you ever say a bad thing about a woman in my presence, ever.”

And today, sometime in the middle of the night before my first post, Jonno went and wrote ( this about me!

So now I’m the sorceror’s apprentice, and Jonno is teaching me the evil ways of Fleshbottery. Well, don’t let me do all the informing, check out this (not too recent) interview with him here.

* Why do I make this distinction? My straight male friends/family in SRL and the Marching Band are very, very affectionate with me; lots of hugging, arms around each other because we’re standing in proximity, etc. For some reason that’s missing from my relationships with gay men. (I don’t know if Michael Soldier’s parting lip-kiss after I interviewed him a few weeks ago counts, oh the tension…) But then again, the SRL/Band guys aren’t exactly your regular straight guys — in fact, not at all. There is quite an interesting history of bisexuality among the ranks of SRL men (a history always in the making, I understand), and gender/sexuality has always been fluid and a non-issue among core members. We’ve all shared near-death experiences at every show; our priorities in the way we relate are vastly different than, say, someone from Hollywood or the Marina district in San Francisco. An SRL sex map would be very amusing; Kinsey would love it. And while I don’t profess to know much about the preferences in the Marching Band, again, gender and orientation are a non-issue. I don’t know what I’m trying to say here, except that this type of open affection and acceptance is a value to me, and I’ve never experienced it in the “straight” world, and very little in my gay cirles, too. But you know, I think the word “straight” should always be in quotes anyway…

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Building destruction video

Sent to me just now: cool time-lapse video of the death of the Chicago Sun Times building. Begins with men, ends with machines, all destruction, yay! Warning: sappy music, but evokes a nice meditative mood…

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Suicide rejecto girl

44.jpgI’m procrastinating that thing I have to write for Playgirl. Not because I don’t want to, not because I’m out of ideas (not by a longshot), not because I got my shuffle and it takes like a thousand hours to charge (but — w00t!), and not because it’s hard to tone down my fantasies for Playgirl. Okay, the last part is true. And even though my nose is sore from ejecting beverages every hour reading your captions for the Laura Bush photo, that’s not it either. No, just because procrastination is the porn writer’s friend. Gives us more time to wank off.

Not that I’ve been a total wanker — I at least did an interview with Web MD today (I’ll post the link when it goes up next week). I’ve been a busy Fleshbot bee; at the end of the week I’ll be posting by myself while Jonno goes to the GayVN’s — yikes! And upon finding out that Suicide Girls rejected my first photoset (they say it’s common for first sets to be rejected), I edited the hundreds of photos down, cropped and posted them as a striptease vignette here. SG told me it was because of the quality of the photography, but haven’t replied to my query email with a recommendation on who I should shoot with next — and it’s been several weeks since I asked them. I’ve technically been accepted and have a profile (not live yet). I’m just too busy Fleshbotting and doing the unemployed writer hustle to kill myself to find a photog for a session that may or may not work, and would result in $300 that would likely go to pay the photographer. I’m not too discouraged, just mulling things over. So enjoy the photos — they’re all mine now, and yours, too.

Now I must write dirty things. Here’s a too-weird-for-Fleshbot link: Amputee of the Month (don’t worry, it’s all fake).

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