My 10th year in the Jizz Biz came and went a few months ago, and I’m finally getting around to talking about it now. Not that’s it a difficult thing to talk about, and I really wanted to blog about it the first week of August — August 2 to be exact — cause it was 02 August 2002 when I walked out of my Professor Office at the English Department and placed an ad in a weekly rag that said something along the lines of PORN STARS MAKE MORE MONEY IN ONE DAY THAN MOST PEOPLE MAKE IN TWO WEEKS. I had no idea what to expect from that ad…or really anything that went along with a career as a pornographer: the nutty models, the crazy fans, the dysfunctional relationships, or the social stigma.

Rereading that last sentence makes me sound naive. Or ignorant. Maybe a little bit of both.

I never thought about how making smut videos would effect future relationships with women — women both in and out of the industry. I knew “civilian” women wouldn’t be too thrilled about having a dude who made dirty movies for a living; I had no idea it would make a relationship virtually impossible. I never knew it would be equally impossible to maintain any sort of relationship with one of the models as well. I’ve told you these stories.

By the way, I point the finger at myself. I don’t wanna come off as The Sane One surrounded by all The Crazies.

For a while, I was thinking 2012 was gonna be it. After 10 years, I was all done. I’ve changed my mind, at least for the foreseeable future. I like my job, more than I ever have, and I know a great deal of that has to do with the slowdown. “The Perfect Storm” nearly killed Porno, but, in the end, it’s made my life a little easier. I still make a decent living, but it’s not like The Good Ole Days.

The Perfect Storm: the near-meltdown of the US Economy at the end of 2008, which is the same time the Tube Sites exploded in popularity, which is the same time DVD production, for the most part, died and went to Heaven.

The Perfect Storm reduced my work by 2/3’s, which has allowed me to stay (somewhat) sane.

My family’s always been involved in a cyclical business (they started it 8 years before WWII did) and they’ve always said, “when biz goes down, it’s always a good thing…cause it shakes the trees and gets rid of this shit.”

Porn Trees shook hard, and a lot of the shit has gone away…hopefully for good. There’s other interesting things that’s happened since, and part of it is the damage the storm left as far as a model’s longevity is concerned. Pre-’08, I think a “good career” spanned about the same time as an NFL player’s did…3 years. I think if a model can get steady, consistent work through a calendar year in 2013, that’s pretty fucking good. Some people think there’s “no more” Porn Stars, but I won’t go that far.

So much has changed in 10 years. I’ve never heard of a business model imploding in such a short time. I don’t mean the internet model, either. When I got to Porno Valley in 2002, there were “internet rates” and “DVD rates”, and our rates were 20 – 30% lower; in addition, the DVD Crews thought the Internet Guys were a joke. They predicted a rapid demise, and some even licensed their content to web sites for next-to-nothing. Some models wouldn’t even take an “Internet” gig. And when they did, you could almost hear The Agent smirk on the other end of the phone when he said, “Oh, it’s just an internet site? Then her boy-girl rate is $700 instead of $1100. And if you’re looking, I know a producer that will license his entire library to you for $8000. I’m pretty sure there’s hundreds of titles.”

Anyway, the storm seems to have passed. And as far as me…well, I’m good for a while longer. Maybe a good while.

What else am I gonna do?

The first time I met a Porno Princess in the flesh was 1992. I was living in Dallas, peddling stocks and bonds, and after the market would close the crew would jam into a couple of cars and head to Caligula’s, where we would patronize strippers and wolf down their late lunch buffet before we’d head back to the office to start cold calling the West Coast.

A lot of the strip joints along Northwest Highway like to label themselves “Men’s Clubs”, and they’d play it up with nice tables, cushy sofas and over-sized chairs, and afternoon buffets with (believe it or not) edible food. They were fine, but I always preferred slumming it in the sleazy joints on Harry Hinds Blvd where C-grade strippers would give handies under the table for twenty bucks.

One day we busted into “Calig’s” and there, right in front of my very eyes, was Keisha. I missed her name on the marquee out front, but there was no missing her inside, working all the members of The Lonely Hearts Club who referred to themselves as “regulars”.

Strip joints in the afternoon — like getting wasted in the afternoon — was always a favorite of mine.

The only thing that surprised me more than Keisha working the stage? Keisha signing and selling stuff after her routine! I went straight for the cheezy, who-knows-what-kind-of-entity-owns-this ATM, and pulled out a couple hundred bucks (which cost me $10). Then, I stood in line.

I got lap dances from Keisha! She sat in my lap and whispered dirty things in my ear while she signed stuff!! I walked out with a couple of signed Polaroids (she had to shake them dry before they were good to go), a signed VHS, as well as a personally inscribed message on the inside of the bill of my SST baseball cap: “Billy, I want to taste your sweet cum! XOXO Keisha”. (SST was a punk label, and some of my favorite bands (Meat Puppets, Husker Dü, Minutemen) were SST bands).

Imagine that! A personal, heartfelt message from none other than adult superstar Keisha! And back at the office a couple hours later, it was show-and-tell time…and they all envied my super sweet Keisha swag.

How times have changed. I used to be a fan. I guess I still am. I like true amateur porn featuring people we’ve never seen before, but the problem is it’s scarce; in addition, I make smutty sleaze for a living now, and if I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a zillion times: if you wanna cure yourself of your Porno Fanboydom, just start making it for a living.

Not that I ever really was. My porno consumption in the old days was about every other week; I’d venture into Tower Records and see what new smut hit the shelves, and I’d rent a couple titles. I never bought a tape. I was a renter. And I preferred Tower Records to the porno shops, cause the Sleaze Factor was way diminished at Tower. And I always hated taking my smut to the counter, especially when a girl was behind the register. I’m sure you remember that feeling, too.

When VHS machines started selling for under a couple hundred bucks, I bought a second one so I could dupe scenes I liked, and a few favorites went on a compilation tape not unlike the one David hands Andy in “40 Year Old Virgin” — except mine was called Billy’s Boner Jams ’96.

After Keisha, I never met a Porno Princess until I met Phyllisha Anne at one of the very first Porno Webmaster Conventions ever held (New Orleans, 1999). By now, I was in the biz, and instead of “will you sign my cap?” my question was, “are you bookable, and how much to shoot you?” I would like to think Phyllisha Ann found my naïve question charming. “Oh, I’m bookable! When do you wanna work? How about in a couple hours? And how much you got in budget?”

Other than writing a letter and sending it to their PO Box (which wasn’t easy information to obtain, I suppose) there really wasn’t much of a way to communicate with your favorite Porno Princess…unless you lived in Porn Valley, I suppose. And then I guess it was total luck if you ran into one at, say, the produce section of Ralph’s…and had the balls to say hello.

Super creepy fun at Ralph’s!

Thank God for the internet! Thank God for mySpace!! Thank God for Twitter!!! Thank God for Facebook!!!!

Now you can tell your favorite Porno Princess all about your 10 inch cock, and send them the big cock pics you found online and say it’s you! Then tell your favorite girl how much you love them!! Try to arrange a meeting!! Feedback is immediate, too! No waiting around for a SASE to come back. You can communicate with your favorite Stunt Cock! Even producers and directors!! Then, when they don’t respond accordingly, you can tell them how much you hate them. You can get into all sorts of graphic detail about how much they suck, how much better you fuck, or how much better you take pictures and make movies; and, when they still don’t respond the way you want, you get really adventurous and post personal information like real names, addresses, family members…even make death threats! Then, after you grow bored, or you’re blocked out of their life, move on to the next!

Woot woot!

Thank God for the internet.

If you haven’t heard, this past week has been a stressful one for Porn Valley, as there’s been a confirmed case of HIV. Due to privacy laws, no one — at this point — is certain of Patient Zero’s identity. And the only way we’re gonna know for sure is if Patient Zero stands up in the crowd, raises his hand, and says, “it’s me.” And in the meantime, Patient Zero, anyone who banged him, and the people down a couple levels have had their name removed from the database (and added to a quarantine list) that producers/directors check to make sure a performer is up to snuff with testing.

Which is the way it should be.

This is a business where everyone seems to know everyone else, so rumors are flying: a gay-for-pay performer who has appeared in some straights scenes and, up til recently, advertised his services at Rentboy (“Pimp Yourself Now!” – Rentboy’s motto) is a bettor’s favorite for being Patient Zero — at even money.

He also dates a (former) female performer; in fact, there’s a handful of bi-sex scenes featuring said performers as they bang (and get banged) by various boys: June 25th – Today I’m debuting a brand new interaction shoot with the boy next door Cameron who brought along his real life girlfriend Casey to get in on the fun. July 2 – The games continues with Cameron and Casey. Watch us heat things up as we finish off our spin the bottle game and get to the real fun. July 10 – With the games over its raw action from here on out watch us takes thing to the next level before we wrap up this smoking hot shoot.

Raw action? Hmm. Unless I’m totally missing the something here, raw action means barebackin’ means sex sans condom means insane behavior in the world of gay sex between men — unless practiced by a monogamous couple who know each other’s sexual histories very well.

I’d like to add no one knows who, exactly, Patient Zero is right now — except Patient Zero and the administrators at the clinic where most of today’s performers get their monthly health check-up.

I’d also like to add that the two performers listed at Club Dean (“Cameron” and “Casey”) are, in fact, MIA…and removed from their agency’s web site.

Where there’s smoke there’s fire?

All of the people in Porn Valley make their living in a controversial, hotly debated industry. Sex is a controversial, hotly debated topic…especially in the great country I call home. I’m not so narrow-minded as to wonder why some people hate what we do; I wonder, however, why the people who attack us most viciously are often our best customers.

All jobs have their risks, and each and every sex worker knows what they’re getting into — whether or not they want to admit it.

A quick Google search to make a point:

Commercial Fishing: 129 deaths per 100,000 people employed in the industry and 61 injuries per 100,000 for 2008.

The Timber Industry includes loggers, lumberjacks, and helpers. It held the Number One spot for many years with 92.4 deaths per 100,000 workers in 2006 – a decrease from 118 in 2002. In 2008, fatalities increased to 116 Deaths per 100,000 workers.

Collectors of Refuse and Recyclables – Garbage Collectors and Professional Recyclers. These jobs have increased in numbers and have become deadlier. With the increasing number of businesses, dwellings, and vehicles in America, drivers and material movers are at increased risk of traffic-related accidents and/or being some other way injured by their machinery. Drivers of trucks and other sorts of commercial vehicles are more at risk as greater numbers of vehicles are put onto the streets as populations grow.

I could go on and on and talk about people who install power lines, cops and firefighters, oil and gas crews, cement makers, cabbies and chauffeurs, slaughter house employees and security guards…but I won’t.

People like eating fish; they’re ok talking about that, too. People like using products made from wood; they’re ok talking about that, too. Same goes for all the other jobs listed above…except when it comes to their masturbatory habits, which is something almost no one likes to talk about — let alone even admit.

There’s ways to make all workers safe…and safer. I dunno what lumberjacks do to protect themselves, nor garbage men, nor the fine folks who install our power lines.

I do know sex workers get tested every 30 days for HIV, chlamydia, and gonorrhea, as well as bi-annually for syphilis…and I think it’s time the male talent all start wearing rubbers, too. But that isn’t the case…yet.

The problem?

You silly pervs don’t like to buy safe porn. Kills “the fantasy”. Puts an “artificial barrier” between the actors. And, for you really twisted, sick fucks who dig interracial sex, how in the world can a white girl get knocked up by a black dude who’s wearing a rubber?

So Cal OSHA steps in, makes condom use mandatory in California; hence, all the producers flee Cal OSHA’s regulations (and Porn Valley) to places like Vegas and Miami…or, as I refer to them, the left and right armpits of America.

Not really. Gary, Indiana is actually the armpit of America. Well, that and Trenton, New Jersey.

I won’t shoot porn where it’s illegal to shoot porn, which leaves me LA County and New Hampshire, and I don’t see much of a porn scene there.

So, I’ll continue to shoot in Los Angeles, and I’m gonna keep my male talent pool limited to the dudes who, for the most part, are straight (yea, I’m laughing, too), and I’ll welcome mandatory condom use if (and when) it ever happens (don’t get me started on an actor’s First Amendment right to Free Expression, which includes the right to express oneself without using a condom) and I’m sure, like each and every HIV case I’ve made it through, this, like all other things, shall pass.

Mind if I keep ranting? Cause just a few days ago Madison Scott agreed to do a silly article appearing in my hometown paper, and it really pissed me off.

Once upon a time I wasn’t involved with the sex industry, and during that time I liked to beat off using pornography. It’s a great masturbatory aid — the world’s most cost effective masturbatory aid — and that’s all I ever used it for. Which is to say I fast-forwarded through the silly acting and dumb, dumb dialogue and went right to the fucking, where I’d FF through when it got boring, to the pop shot, where I usually popped. This took anywhere from 10 to 30 minutes, and at that time I’d either start, resume, or end my day (with a better-than-average night’s rest).

I also like to drink from time to time. I’ll gamble when I’m in Vegas (up to my loss limit of $50)…but I’ve never, ever smoked a cigarette.

I know lots of people with drinking problems. A lot of them smoke while they’re drinking, too. In fact, it’s taken the life of more than one of my family members.

I know lots of people who gamble. A lot of them smoke while they’re gambling, too. In fact, it’s taken tolls on relationships (and bank accounts) of more than one of my friends.

Gambling, smoking, boozing, and beating off are just a few things that make life worth living. They’re super fun to do (well, I can’t argue for smoking, but I’ll take it from the smokers), as long as you do them within reason (except smoking, which, at last count, is killing 1200 people PER DAY), and while I hate to see people let their vices ruin their lives, I’m certainly not about to advocate outlawing them.

I am an advocate to population control, and I think smoking is doing a great job of that…but I often wonder why the Shelly Luebens of the world aren’t spending their time eliminating smoking, which, in addition to killing a while bunch of people, is draining our health care system. I mean how about at least help the Porno Princesses quit smoking, Shelly?

Well, cause it’s easy to point the finger at porn.

Are you getting tired of my rant? Cause I’m getting tired of writing it…but real quick, lemme add something: before I got into porn, I couldn’t imagine what would make a cute, wholesome girl commit filthy, despicable acts for the world to see. Before I got into porn, I thought The Bang Bus was real. Before I got into porn, I really thought someone held a gun to Linda Lovelace’s head and made her suck a bunch of cock. Before I got into porn, I really thought Traci Lords was stoned for 3 years straight and didn’t know what she was doing.

Before I got into porn…

If you took the time to read Madison Scott’s story, let me clarify a few things: she didn’t make a million dollars in porn, and she didn’t spend anywhere near that on drugs to cure herself from STD’s, and she didn’t spend anywhere near that on drugs to party with; in reality, I never saw one dirty AIM test for Madison Scott (and I’ve looked at MANY) and I know Madison Scott didn’t party to excess (she was too busy taking care of her little girl).

I do know Madison Scott feels like she has a lot of explaining to do (mainly to people who don’t give a shit about her) about her porn career, and instead of just telling people something like, hey, I fucked and sucked a whole bunch for a lot money, and now I’m broke cause I never really learned how to manage it, let’s just tell something The People want to hear. Something that will make sense to Them. And make me, Madison Scott, look like a good girl who made a terrible, terrible mistake…such a big one that I’m gonna ask The Big Man to forgive me — cause that’s the only way The People will.

Besides, how else am I gonna get my kid good daycare after everyone finds out I was a porn star?

OK — rant over. I could go on and on. I was gonna address my friend Mark G. from Down Under and his silly statements attacking porn, but they’re so ‘tarded they don’t even justify being addressed, and I’ve ranted enough, and besides, I got the new Superchunk record, and it’s way better than I thought it was gonna be, which is a great surprise, so I’m gonna so listen to some ‘Chunk and enjoy the rest of my Saturday editing porn and listening to music at unhealthy levels.

My poor ears.

But, in the end, when I’m a deaf old man, and I can’t hear what the nurse says to me while I get my sponge bath, I’m gonna blame myself — not the music.

A site called Media Take Out — “the most visited urban website in the world” — has reported that porn star Aryanna Star was, at one time, a child actress who appeared on an 80’s TV show called A Different World.

I’d link back to them, but their reporting is so fucking terrible they don’t deserve it; in fact, anyone who had a hand in writing this entry deserves a sock in the nose…but I would never hit a person. It’s against my good nature.

Why do they deserve to get smacked around? The same reason any erroneous reporter deserves to be smacked around — cause they’re erroneous. There’s nothing more sacred than The Truth. There’s nothing more powerful than The Written Word. And there’s nothing worse than a journalist who doesn’t know the facts.

Well, I can think of some stuff that’s worse — the leak in the Gulf of Mexico right now that BP is responsible for; Fox News; a poorly-made latte; women forced to wear berkas and denied basic civil liberties; Iron Man 2; the holocaust; as well as the latest Jack White project, “Dead Weather”.

Media Take Out’s big fuck up? Their description of Aryanna’s Cumbang scene: “the men were all wearing CONFEDERATE FLAG T-SHIRTS . . . and they spit on her and called her THE N WORD while they did their business with her.”

Fucking dopes! Not once is the “N WORD” dropped in Cumbang — in any scene — including Aryanna’s.

Fucking morons! Not once is a girl spit on in Cumbang — in any scene — including Aryanna’s.

Cumbang is simply a revenge site. Think of it as a sanction for African-American women who want to even the score. Why? Well, it’s very simple: all the women on this site have black boyfriends who have cheated on them with a snowbunny.

Or Snow Bunny.

Just depends on how you want to write it out.

If I was a black woman, I’d place Snow Bunny on the list I just gave for Everything Bad in The World — right after Jack White’s new band.

Can you think of a better place to get revenge on your cheatin’ ass niggah boyfriend than with a buncha dirty, red-neck crackers in a warehouse somewhere outside of Hemet, CA?

I think not.

OK Ok ok — fine. Here’s the link to Media Take Out’s entry I’m referring to. I’ll go ahead and give it out just so you can read some of the General Publics’ reaction to this whole deal.

Some of the comments made my morning.

The best reaction, however, is the e-mail my producer just received: hey people, i read this post late and i am very concerned. the site that show this young lady in action is ghettogagers.com which is owned by D&E media, LLC which is headquartered in east orange, nj. as I type this I have e-mailed and written letters to the following: oprah winfrey, Michael baisden, al sharpton and the national action network, 100 blacks in law enforcement, the NJ attorney-general, the us attorney-general, the NJ governors office, all the NJ state senators(one of which lives in the same town this company is headquartered), all the NJ assembly people who represent this district, both us senators from NJ, all the us congress people from this area, the FBI, the IRS, the department of justice, as well as the mayor of the city of east orange. if all of you do the same as me, this company and the trash they produce will be eliminated and they will be no more. although most of their work is protected by the first amendment, they are going well beyond what protects them in the constitution. black women don’t deserve this treatment, for that much, people don’t deserve this treatment

At least this dude got his facts straight about the dirty web sites Ms. Starr has appeared on — if she appeared on Ghetto Gaggers at all.

I’ve shot Aryanna a whole buncha times — twice for Gloryhole-Initiations, once for Cumbang, and once for the world’s greatest interracial website — Blacks on Blondes.

We took a trip to some infamous gloryholes around the SoCal area. Here’s some free Aryanna Star Gloryhole pictures and movies. In fact, she had such a good time, Aryanna came back for seconds.

You already know about her Cumbang appearance — here’s some free Aryanna Star Cumbang pictures and movies.

Finally, Aryanna played a farmer raising chickens with her hubby (played by Byron Long). They try and secure a loan from the bank, and the lending officer, Brooklyn Jade, visits their chicken farm — only to deny them the loan. (You know what happens next). Here’s some free Aryanna Starr pictures and movies from her Blacks on Blondes scene.

Oh, and before you start hating on me, and talkin’ shit about how I had them play chicken farmers cause black people loved fried chicken, just know that there’s a dude who lives close to a studio I use who really raises chickens, and they were loud that day, and to save our editor a ton of post-production work, we just went with the chicken thang.

Here’s my last word on this for today: there are freaky gals who love to get their freak on. They love it. Some of them love it so much they star in dirty movies. They love having sex for the world to see, and they hate sitting at a desk (probably like you’re doing right now) for 40 hours a week pushing papers around. They love working a few hours a week and making wages in excess of the 40-hour-a-week wage earner. They love the attention they get off set. They’re not coerced to make dirty movies. They’re not on drugs. They’re simply doing a job they love to do.

The only thing that really fucks up most porno people is the society who condemns them for what they do; the same ones who just dropped a nut all over the place watching — and loving — the freaky behavior they put down the first chance they get. These are the ones who are married and haven’t banged their wives since the closing night of the Salt Lake City Olympic Games — mainly cause the only people they have sex with on any sort of regular basis are hookers or mistresses…or themselves.

I refer to them as conservative Republicans.

Charlie Hustles posted on Adult DVD Talk: Would you marry a pornstar? I’ve come to the conclusion that this is most likely my destiny, hahaha.

Funny…I’m not laughing.

Some of the responses (if you don’t feel like wading through multiple pages of posts):

I’d love it. Just as long as she didn’t lie about things and everything was out in the open. And as long as she still has some fucking left in her for me when she gets home.

Um — hate to break the news to ya, but most are pathological liars, and when they get home to you, they’re fucked out.

Me married to a hot lesbian pornstar? Definately 🙂

Um — the last one I hung out with for a few months turned to me one night and said, “I’m a lesbian. I think you should know that.” Needless to say, we ain’t hanging out no mo’. I love lesbians, too! The problem was — The Lesbian didn’t like me.

I guess I’d just as soon marry a porn star as anyone but she’s signing a prenuptial that says she can’t divorce me if she gives me an STD.

Huh?

Not really thinking about marriage at the moment, but with my mum’s desperate and constant nagging for me to get married I am sure that my mum wouldn’t mind! I reckon it would be cool – your wife would have lots of great funny stories to tell that would keep you amused (and probably turned on) well into your twilight years and long after your pecker ceases functioning.

Yes, your mum would mind. She might not pretend to mind, but she would. At least at first. And funny stories? Like the time she tore her vag from too much rough sex on set? Or the “Stunt Cock with The Stinky Balls” story? Or how ’bout the “Producer Who Would Only Give Me Work as Long as I Fucked Him” story? There’s a whole barrel o’ laughs just there.

Definitely. She’d all of a sudden become a little more exclusive to her projects, she’d make a few well placed promotional appearances, take some dance lessons, and hit the feature dance circuit. I’d be right there with the camera taking the $15.00 Polaroids. I’d then set up the website and then we’d venture into selling personalized scenes where’d she play directly to the person paying for the scene. Then I’d self produce a best of disk something like; E is for Eva, or G is for Gianna, and sell them along with the polaroid. The way I figure it, an autographed Polaroid and a disk for $40 or so, would probably net an extra $5,000 a w/e. We’d retire to a beach in Costa Rica after 5 years or so.

See Urban Diction for the definition of “Suitcase Pimp”. And no, you wouldn’t be able to retire anywhere after 5 years…not even Costa Rica.

I’d marry Amy Reid, Audrey Bitoni, Cassandra Calogera, Claire Dames, Holly West, Mindy Main, Priya Rai, Sativa Rose, Taryn Thomas or Taylor St. Claire but only if they were still shooting porn and they would marry me too. It’s hard to marry somebody if they won’t marry you back. Unfortunately, most of these ladies are taken and far from thinking about marrying me, but I’m pretty sure I’d marry each and every one if they proposed.

“If” being the operative word.

I don’t understand why you wouldn’t marry a pornstar. I’ve never known, dated, fucked or lived with a pornstar. If I met a pornstar that I knew was a pornstar I would take whatever I could get, let alone her and I being married. Hello, my name is D_____ E___, and this is my wife, Sadie West. Sounds good to me. At the very least you would get to hear about some interesting things. I think pornstars are interesting. I read the interviews. Some of the girls are fucking smart. Ashli Orion. So is Ashlynn Brooke. Dana Dearmond. Why would you not want to marry a young, cool, sexy girl? It doesn’t make any sense. I mean, in the long run, yes, the relationship is going to end, but all of them end, and almost none of them involve a woman who knows how to fuck. Companionship can be overrated sometimes.

I dunno even where to begin with this one. Some of these girls are fucking smart. Some. And just ’cause they’re fucking on camera doesn’t mean they know how to fuck.

I dont think I could ever marry a pornstar, like so many have said the fantasy of the situation would be crushed under the weight of the reality. As an everyday guy I know that no matter how accepting of a woman career I would be there would still be that part of me that would be totally jealous. Imagine that you were married to your favorite pornstar and you had your ordinary job. At first you think it is so cool and hot that you are married to a woman that so many guys want. After a while the comments start and at first they dont bother you because the guys that make them can only imagine what you get. Then after a little while they start to bother you. Then comes the day where she isnt in the mood to be with you and most guys would be frustrated and understanding, but in the back of your mind it like not in the mood to be with me, but she is going to go and bang a guy in a scene tomorrow. I personally wouldnt want to guilt my wife into sex by saying oh you’ll do it for your job but I am married to you and I cant get any. You could say it is all a job all you want but at the end of the day she is still getting physical needs met from that job and mental and emotional needs met from you. While for most guys you maybe getting your physical needs met, your getting mental and emotional anguish in return.

This is my favorite post. And with that, I’ll go ahead and make this more fun: If I was gonna marry a porn star right now, it would be Ashton Pierce, who beat out (by an ever so slight margin) Katie St. Ives. The bronze would go to Hannah West. (As if marrying me would merit a medal of any sort).

Who’s Ashton Pierce?

Well, she used to be Christie West — for a heartbeat. Then she quit for a while, and now she’s back as Kristie West. And I dunno why, but damn, this girl pushes my buttons.

Whatever those buttons may be. I say that cause they seem to be changing all the time. The only constant with me is the following — it seems after I’ve secured a relationship, I want out. Is there some sort of psychoanalytical nonsense that might enlighten me to my condition?

Anyone?

But yea, I’d hook up with Ashton for sure, and we’d run off to Vegas and get hitched, and for a few months we’d be as happy as clams (pardon the cliché) and then, after an issue or two or three, it would be over.

Cause, in the end, aren’t all relationships a cliché?

Whenever somebody points the finger and starts up The Blame Game, I like to call it “The Blame It on Yoko Effect”.

Stop me, oh, stop me
Stop me if you think that you’ve
Heard this one before
Stop me, oh, stop me
Stop me if you think that you’ve heard this one before

Hey — here’s an idea: next time you fuck up, and it’s 100% your fault, why don’t you just blame it on Yoko? Serious. Let’s say you’re at work, you go way past deadline cause you’ve been fucking up, and Boss calls you into the office and demands an explanation, instead of blaming coworkers, or your health, or some other fucked up bullshit, just say to Boss, “Boss, I know you’re not gonna believe this, but I blame Yoko.”

Say it with a straight face, too.

Yoko, of course, being Yoko Ono, a woman everyone loves to hate, and who had absolutely nothing to do with “breaking up The Beatles”. We could go back and forth about why and how The Beatles broke up, and I’ll maintain — throughout our friendly discussion — Yoko is innocent. (Any four human beings who are forced to spend every waking moment of every day working their ass off couldn’t make it a year together, let alone almost a decade…especially if they aren’t banging each other (ie Fleetwood Mac (not that Fleetwood Mac achieved anything remotely close to The Beatles (they were just a quick, handy comparison)))).

How come no one blames themselves anymore for bad behavior? Especially when it comes to sexy shit?

See the silver medal around Odd’s neck? Well, it ain’t gold…cause he watched a whole lotta porn in Vancouver.

Uh huh.

(By the way, what kind of name is Odd? Oh! Those silly Norwegians. Norwegia must be a kooky place.)

I’m not defending smut cause I make it; I’m defending smut cause it ain’t the cause.

My very favorite vice of late is The Dr. Drew Franchise: the utterly brilliant Celebrity Rehab…which just followed his utterly brilliant show featuring a bunch o’ whacky “sex addicts”.

Sex addiction is a sham. Avoidance behavior is very real.

Who wants to work a 10 hour day when beating off is way more fun? Especially when you hate your job.

Who wants to bang the same person they’ve been banging since 1986? Especially when that person is 100 pounds overweight and snores like a freight train.

Let me clarify: you can’t be addicted the sex the same way as you’re addicted to chemicals. Sex is an out, which can work out really well, mainly cause it feels good; or, it can work out really bad, cause when it feels good, you can often lose control.

Who wants to deal with the real issue at hand? What would you rather do? Spend hours (and thousands of dollars) at The Shrink’s office dealing with your shitty marriage? Your shitty childhood?

How ’bout a stint in rehab?

Or, just bust a nut or two or three or four or five and carry on with your day?

Then, when confronted on the matter — blame porn.

Blame your addiction to sex.

Just don’t blame yourself for goodness sakes. That’s a sign for the weak and weary.

Why deal with the origins of the enormous pressures athletes put on themselves to win at any cost when you can just blame porn!

To me, Bill Maher is as close to The Voice of Reason we have for this day and age. He went on a Tiger Woods rant during his last show…as well as a rant that’s similar to mine. I won’t rehash, but he thinks sex addiction is bullshit, too; “You want to know the surest way that you can spot a ‘sex addict?’ He’s got a penis.”

If only I had said it first.