Love For Sale

SRL Nudie Calendars are for sale! (All proceeds go to the North family — read more about the calendar and my friend’s fight with cancer in the 3/15 entry below).

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I Can’t Feel My Ass

I get a lot of letters from sex toy (and other) companies asking me if I will link to their sites. That’s no surprise — my site traffic is remarkably high, especially for a site where I sell nothing, have no advertisers, and I do nothing to advertise or promote the site. The only things I hope people buy are my books, but I don’t make anything extra if folks buy them off my site. I link to Good Vibes because I work there, I believe in our mission, and I’m one of over 100 owners of the co-op. Recently a site wrote me asking for a link (as usual with no offer of reciprocity), so I checked ’em out, as I’m always on the prowl to offer new sex-positive outlets for goodies to readers. I really like their site and its design, the product presentation looks fantastic, the site navigation is excellent, and they offer some really fun toys my shop doesn’t carry — toys I’d love to try. They also have great articles, like how to hire a stripper for a party, and even decent oral sex tips I’d endorse. But I have qualms about a few things they carry — one item in particular — which brings me to answering a recent email from a reader.

The product in question is a lubricant sold specifically for anal sex that numbs the anus (and by proxy) the penis doing the penetrating). In a few places on Tiny Nibbles and as standard policy in Good Vibes’ sex ed safety, I recommend against using butt numbers for anal sex, and this sweet reader wanted to know why. You see, she experiences a burning sensation during anal sex, and plain lube just doesn’t cut it. The Anal Eze, or whatever, numbs the pain and she can continue — and it also masks important messages that the body might be trying to send. Unlike the vagina, the anus doesn’t self-lubricate, it’s a fairly dry zone that requires lots and lots of lube for penetration. The skin is very very thin and (ouch) tears easily, so if you don’t have enough lube, you risk injury — and you really don’t want E Coli germs in a cut down there. If you can’t feel the dryness, you can’t apply more lube. You also won’t feel the pleasure that comes when anal sex is done right.

I get this question in the store from customers on a fairly regular basis. A slight burning sensation is normal when you first start anal penetration. It should gradually fade and give way to fullness, rhythm and pleasure as you continue, your arousal growing and as your muscles relax. If it hurts a lot, or won’t stop hurting, there might be a few reasons why:

* You’re going too fast. Slow way down. You won’t believe how slow you have to go: it might seem like the seasons are changing around you, but trust me. If you’re doing the penetrating, go so slow that your recipient gets impatient and makes sexy demands.

* You need more lube. Think a 40-gallon tub of I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter. Have towels handy. Try lots of Wet Platinum

* One of you doesn’t really want to be doing this right now. Hey, that’s okay — switch activities if your partner isn’t ready, or in the mood, or can’t relax due to stress or medication.

* You’re not turned on enough. You really need to be horny as hell if you’re a novice or nervous, so do whatever it takes to put your arousal into overdrive. A vibe on the clit (or a lubed hand on a cock) works wonders.

So don’t use the butt numbers — they’re dangerous. And the delay spray crap that some sites sell will just numb out your dick (and your lover’s pussy or ass), and it won’t make you last any longer. I’ll cover lasting longer in another rant… As for linking to that site, the jury’s out.

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After Last Tuesday

Whew, I’m recovering from the Tim benefit. I staffed the SRL Nudie Calendar table all night, signing calendars and chatting folks up about out super-cute calendar and the very hot boys and girls I work with in Survival Research Labs. Mark Pauline blew up three huge images from the calendar into big glossy posters — and because he loves to tease me, he blew up the one of me and put it right next to the table! I blushed a lot, but had a great time, and we sold quite a few calendars. But we didn’t sell them all, and the rest will be on sale on the SRL web site soon until they’re all gone — I’ll post the link for interested parties when it’s ready.

I got smooched a lot, felt like a nudie cutie star signing autographs, and got away from the table to boogie down with the incredibly talented Extra Action Marching Band. What an amazing phenomenon they are — horns, drums, undulating half-naked flag boys and girls — and everyone danced. Except Tim, of course — he was in a wheelchair but the band played all over and around and to him! I didn’t get home until four and dragged my butt into Good Vibrations by ten, to write with bloodshot eyes and sit through two hours of meetings about ad content… eesh. I came home early and watched some porn, then wrote our email newsletter the GV Spot, edited new erotic fiction for the Good Vibes magazine — and collapsed into bed with my phone to make some calls. But the highlight of my day was an email from a fan who wrote to tell me I was sexy — because I use a G4! You bet — I think all Mac users are hotties!

Tonight when I get home from work, a review of PornOrchestra.

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War Porn

I happen to live in a neighborhood in San Francisco that has an amazing view — not hard in a city with dozens of hills. I can see downtown quite easily with my binoculars, which is why today was frustrating. I knew that war protesters were going to "shut down the city," and Good Vibrations even closed all locations in anticipation of the chaos. The protesters actually started the shutdown last night at 5pm, and today it’s a huge mess, and they’re reporting little of it on the news, hence my frustration. I’m getting updates from folks who get caught in it by accident (and me, too) — there’s something going on in every downtown neighborhood, it seems, and the chaos randomly moves around. I can see some of it from my vantage point.

It’s weird. The city is like a ghost town in the outer neighborhoods, and a war zone downtown: in SOMA, the financial district, the waterfront and in the Mission. But on TV, it’s fuzzy pictures of nothing — while five helicopters hover half a mile from my house and 1400 people are arrested. And I just know that all those girls with red dreadlocks and cowboy hats are watching the news and getting ideas for their Burning Man theme camps.

Meanwhile, when I was caught in traffic snarls last night trying to avoid police barricades and running over manhole covers I couldn’t see, I tried to tune in to some news, to find out what streets were closed –or anything. But I found nothing. That is, unless you consider the Focus on the Family broadcast on pornography nothing. I admit, I was rapt listening to "two godly men" raving about the evils of pornography, and how "this filth makes our children vulnerable." "The bondage of pornography." It was almost like audio porn, the way these guys were getting worked up talking about kids and porn, and telling folks to get on their knees and pray for the souls of porn addicts, and people who work for General Motors. You read that right, General Motors, the car company.

You see, what had Dr. Jerry Kirk and Mr. Rick Schatz’s panties in a bunch was the not-new revelation that a GM subsidiary is part of cable companies that include adult channels. And these upstanding men have decided that they will pull together "God’s army" against pornography, and have created a downloadable petition for the righteous (or the paranoid, or the repressed, or the unhappy, or those who want to conceal the only thing that makes them feel all squooshy and warm and orgasmic and cosmic and at peace for just one second). This petition will go to Bush and Ashcroft, and urges them to prosecute anyone involved in the distribution of porn. I dug deeper to find out why they think porn is bad, and they say that it makes you a porn addict because it makes you (gasp!) masturbate, and they go into detail about how child molesters use porn to lure little kids, in case you were wondering how to do it yourself. What’s that guy a doctor of, anyway?

So that’s the war in my hometown, and the war on porn. I guess I’ll stay home and watch some "filth" on my TV. Here’s my hot list of wartime porn:

Take Her Down! Lesbian Hot Oil Wrestling: Now these are the battles I’d most like to wage. Watch a real cat fight here.

Conflict: Porn stars fight and fuck with equal abandon — tense and hot, and oh, once those lines are drawn in the sand they’re trounced with shiny high heels and covered in spunk.

Flashpoint: Though I’m not a huge Jenna Jameson fan, the sex is hot and firemen and all their gear here is incendiary.

Hearts and Minds: >A full-on war theme, but a great naughty nurse scene, and nice retro styling for this series of vignettes about soldiers missing their sweethearts.

Club Sin: Like the Fight Club, but it’s busty porn stars and they fuck instead of fighting. Works for me!

Don’t beat yourself up watching the news show the same scenes over and over, telling you nothing. Learn how to really beat people up — and spank them, whip them, tie ’em up and more, all in ways that turn everyone on. Check out BDSM master Ernest Greene’s series, Fetish FAQ. Besides, I know you’re a pervert and already have plenty of duct tape and plastic sheeting.

LA Blue Girl is an explicit animated Hentai flick (Japanese) where supernatural war is waged between the powers of good an evil, with lots of weird sex with strange creatures, and the final battle is a sexual endurance test.

The Screaming Orgasms series might just drown out those helicopters, which are still flying by my house as I write this. If not, all those hot young gals masturbating and having real orgasms will certainly make me feel like joining in and using Focus on the Family’s petition to clean up with afterward. Okay, that’s crude. But it’s been a strange 24 hours here. I’m going to go hop on my motorcycle now and see what’s going on down there.

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Last Saturday I enjoyed the first night of PornOrchestra, and felt that there were some exceptional moments. The audience’s reaction was very interesting.

My expectations were quite different than most of the presentation. I had hoped for an experimental audio experience coupled with "typical" porn, with a humorous/provocative comment made on porn (and the viewer), plus a showcase of some very talented and amazing local musicians. That’s part of what I felt I got! I loved the environment (21 Grand is a great gallery), the experimentation, the video combined with soundscape.

The evening was broken into a few performances: guys on laptops with samples and sounds put to artsy local video images of strip joints and adult stores, a fabulous quartet that played humorously and with much talent to classic porn, a guy with a laptop and geriatric porn, and the PornOrchestra itself (with maybe two dozen members).

The guys with laptops and sample thing bores me — I would’ve loved it if there were two premium DJs like DJ Shadow and Cut Chemist competing to match up with and riff off onscreen porn — and each other. The quartet was fantastic, playing to Outlaw Ladies sped up and slowed down by an improvising gallery volunteer, and they were talented musicians who also has the audience cracking up at humorous scoring. The geriatric porn didn’t bug me — but once the surprise and "shock value" wore off, it (and the music paired with it) became boring. They unfortunately lost half their audience after this, and it seemed as though the presenters didn’t know that this was on the playlist for the musician who selected it. It’s too bad that most folks wound up missing the orchestra because they didn’t want to sit through it — though it’s equally fascinating to ponder why older people having sex freaks people out. As a porn taboo it’s right up there with bestiality, which I find very interesting.

I felt that the musicians in the PornOrchestra were exceptionally talented and I enjoyed all of the unusual/prepared instruments combined with traditional trumpets and snares. And the fast forwarding/slo-mo with the quartet was cool, too.

However, I was very disappointed by the porn selection (that’s a reviewer for you). And I was also disappointed that with the PornOrchestra the conducted music had no relationship with what was onscreen. The split screen images of vintage porn and 1950s safety films were too distracting with the experimental music — I felt that it would’ve worked well if it was simpler. Either background music, or background porn. Know what I mean? A simple all-sex film (with extra cheesy 1980s hair, etc., or an unintentionally campy porn flick) running in the background with conductor and orchestra making the layers… working more with the onscreen imagery. A selection of clips would’ve worked nicely. I felt that the audience had little exposure to porn, especially by their reactions to things considered standard in the industry, so the sensory experience seemed like it was too much. They were so busy "eeewing" at basic things that I wonder if they were able to take it all in, or if (like me) they just wanted to watch cheesy porn with intelligent music. I think I had expectation based on the pre-press, suggesting that PornOrchestra was improvising porn film scores.

But I still really liked it. It’s a provocative act. What’s funny (to me) is that in the one film they showed, Outlaw Ladies, among the many famous classic porn stars in the film was John Leslie. He is now a director who lives in the North Bay, and he would really have liked what the quartet did with the film — he’s way way into experimental jazz. I love his films for many reasons (great camerawork, hot sex), but what makes his work stand out is that he uses no music, and when he does it’s understated background jazz, which works quite well and is extremely enjoyable.

So all his Voyeur films top my "yay" list for porn soundtracks. Independent filmmakers SIR video have great music, using local musicians and have a flair for editing their sound into the film. Radley Metzger (aka Henry Paris) made some of the most surreal and beautifully filmed porn in the 1970s, and the music gets my high marks, as in his films Barbara Broadcast and Score.

Cheesy bad porn that offends the aural sensibilities? Where do I begin? How about any film by the Dark Bros. such as New Wave Hookers — any of that series, ugh. The Devil in Miss Jones #6 is recent, but looks like the 1980s (like most porn) and could use any help it can get. The "Only the Very Best" compilations and compilations such as Once in a Lifetime and the "deep inside" compilations will yield the most cheese and have the worst soundtracks — though believe me, just when you think it can’t get worse, it does. The darkest night for me was watching "Solo Male Ecstasy," a tape of men jacking off disguised as an instructional video to "enrich male masturbatory techniques." Hey, I think that’s cool for folks who want to watch guys jack off — but the music was the exact same music you’d hear in an old Atari video game! Aaargh!

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Naked and Unafraid to Seymore Butts

I housesat for a friend last weekend — mostly to enjoy her nice pad, hot tub and cute cats. An added bonus is that she has Showtime, enabling me to catch Penn and Teller’s Bullshit! show, (great show) and the much-hyped Family Business. The Penn and Teller show was great, even better that I ran into Penn at this year’s Adult Video News Awards convention. He was tall and very sweaty, (evidence photo on left) and being mobbed by all kinds of circus sideshow porn chicks and suitcase-pimp types. But last weekend, finally watching Family Business was the sort-of highlight, the "reality" TV show about Adam Glasser (aka Seymore Butts) and his gonzo porn business, partially staffed by his family members.

I really like Adam Glasser’s porn, for many reasons. It’s basically like his own home movies, except that his friends are all in the porn business and like to have sex a lot. So the viewer gets the vicarious thrill ride of unscripted, off the cuff sex (the trademark of gonzo porn), but with seasoned sex performers who are having sex because they want to — not because they have to. At least that’s what it feels like: porn stars letting their hair down. Lots of real female orgasms, and the occasional joy of women penetrating the guys (and making them come like firehoses). If you don’t mind the in between scenes of Adam’s shoegazing camera while he’s on the phone, they’re great masturbation material. And Glasser is smart, and quite witty, which reminds you that your porn is coming from someone who has a brain — something that’s important to me, anyway. I became interested in Glasser a while back when he won an obscenity trial, detailed in my article Adam Glasser, Fisting and the Law.

Family Business is a pithy half an hour long — surprising in an industry that is extremely interesting, and wholly undocumented in any unbiased fashion. But unfortunately, this "reality" TV show is packed with filler, about two-thirds very forced scenes of his mom (Glasser’s accountant) and his uncle "just going about their lives" and one third Glasser doing his job — and looking for love. Actually, the show veers between trying really hard to present the family members as characters and coming off as a big personal ad for Glasser.

Too bad on both counts, because Glasser himself is very interesting, and if the writers, or "comic stylists" as they’re listed in the credits, would stop trying to make the family members lives fit into Hollywood’s expectations of what they think would be funny, the show could transcend itself and be very provocative. It’s like the writers forgot the "show don’t tell" rule of writing. Oh, and don’t think for a minute that "reality TV" isn’t scripted. It is. Check out Glasser’s porn on your own, and take Family Business with a big grain of salt.

Meanwhile in reality, I’ve been a member of machine arts group Survival Research Laboratories for over seven years. We’re a diverse and talented group of people who are very close, even with members who live far away, and at age 32, I’m the youngest member. Sadly, one of our dear friends Tim North has been recently and suddenly diagnosed with a lengthy list of cancers, including pancreatic. Severe abdominal pain took him to the ER last month, then an "open and shut" surgery, and they sent him home. Time is very, very short for him. Reality is sobering for all of us. Tim and his wife and daughter had just moved, changed jobs, and were one month from the start of their health insurance.

In an outpouring of love and support from our community, we are all pooling our resources and putting on a huge, fantastic benefit to raise money for Tim and his family. The Tim North benefit will be on Tuesday March 25 at SOMArts cultural center in San Francisco, from 8-12 PM. The entertainment will be an incredible list of performers, many of whom are internationally renowned and making rare public appearances — including my favorite marching band. There will be an auction, raffle, stuff to buy, and all proceeds go directly to the North family. I’m even donating some mystery porn packages!

In addition, SRL has been burning the midnight oil to create the official SRL Nudie calendar! That’s right, us machine geeks peel off our coveralls and pose with our machines and tools in and out of the SRL shop, in a high gloss, full-color 15 month calendar. These calendars will be on sale at the benefit for $25, and not only to you get hot male and female mechanics au natural, but I stripped twice and appear more than four times. See me in white panties engaged in a sloppy girl-girl scene with the sexiest machine in the world, the Running Machine. (Images here are taken by a not-very-innocent bystander) It was chilly on the shop floor, and okay, that’s maple syrup and molasses (not motor oil which is very carcinogenic). But after years of working on the Running Machine and operating it, getting down and dirty and naked with her was one of the highlights of my life.

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Fly the Big, Squishy Skies

The restaurant chain Hooters — what a throwback to the dinosaur era! This sports bar/celebration of artery-clogging bar food has made its name for over 20 years by providing a respite from the world for the guy who wants his beer, boobs and touchdowns all in one spot. Men who can only be with men. Actually, while Hooters has been an employer for a few of my gal pals who don’t mind making a little more money but don’t want to be strippers, I kind of like the concept.

Not for the sexist stereotypes — and those stereotypes include the male patrons. But because I like beautiful women too, and would love to spend an evening in a bar being served by a cute girl with nice boobies, and it’s okay for me to stare openly at the boobies. Except I wouldn’t want to hang out in a Hooters. I’m sure the patrons would be really crass, and the worst part would be that the waitresses probably wouldn’t be into flirting with other girls. I still think it’s a pretty funny cliché, though, even better that it’s a living piece of retro-sexist Americana. Besides, the role-reversed version would probably be lame.

Which is why I’m having fantasies about the new Hooters airline (beware, their graphics take about 100 years to load).

You read it right — Hooters has bought an ailing (one of many, I’m sure) airline on the East Coast, and has created their own flight service. The imagination runs wild, no? Packs of top-heavy stewardesses in little uniforms, unable to fit two to an aisle (or one to a restroom). Beverage service that includes inadvertent smacks upside the head by a mammoth bobbling breast as the window-seated passenger gets his scotch. Weight limit requirements for each boob. Equal numbers of flight attendants in front and rear of plane required for balanced takeoff. The snacks are Gummy Boobs. The drinks are Slippery Nipples. The drop-down oxygen masks are nestled in huge plastic D-cups. Flotation vests are two enormous inflatable pink breasts (what if only one inflates? Oh no!).

Okay, maybe it’s not that fun. In truth, Hooters’ lone plane has been re-styled to reflect the restaurant’s beach theme atmosphere, and only two Hooters girls will be on each flight — in skimpy Hooters restaurant uniforms, "just to be friendly." Sadly, there are only a few flights selected with male golfers in mind, to and from Atlanta/Myrtle Beach. It looks as though the chances of contact with actual boobage — real or gummy — are nil. It’s more like the old days, when airline hostesses were dressed to thrill male passengers, as depicted in the unintentionally sexy book, Airline. I guess I’ll have to nurture my sexy 1960’s flight attendant fantasies on my own time.

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