It’s 2 am and I can’t sleep, so I thought I’d pull myself out of bed and blog; maybe it would help me snooze, but I hope it doesn’t have the same effect on you.

Oh, and if my editing skillz don’t pay the billz at 2 am, eat my turd.

I know why I can’t sleep: I’m in Phoenix, and not in my own bed, and that always seems to fuck with me; today’s my birthday, and that’s certainly fucking with me — even though I hate to admit it; I didn’t bring my nite-nite medication with me, and the 1/2 bottle of wine I just knocked down didn’t really help much; a girl I fell in love with is such a pathetic liar that it just breaks my heart; but the bestest, most fun thing that kept me up is my new hero — Muntadhar al Zaidi — the journalist from Iraq who whipped his zapato at our shitty, fucked-up President.

I know this might sound silly, but Muntadhar al Zaidi has some big fucking balls, man. Mainly cause he knew once he did what he was about to do he’d pretty much lose his journalist job forever, and trust me, even if you hate your fucking job, you still gotta have some juevos grandes to do something so crazy you’d lose your job forever.

The only thing more impressive than Muntadhar al Zaidi’s two great attempts at taking off George W. Douchbag’s head with his shoes was W’s super-sleek, super-agile dodges at the shoe coming straight for his head. If that silly motherfucker did his job over the past 8 years 1/2 as well as he did ducking those shoes, we’d be calling John McCain Mr. President-Elect.

I heard after the whole thing went down they wanted to test Muntadhar al Zaidi to see if there was any drugs or alcohol in his system. To which I say are you fucking kidding me? First off, there’s about a zillion American’s who want to do what he just did — let alone Iraqis. Second, let’s have Mr. President piss into a cup so we can see if he’s under the influence of any booze or dope, cause that’s the way he’s run this country the last 8 years — fucked up out of his gord.

God damnit I wanna take my shoes off and clock the President upside his noggin. Imagine the amount of money the RNC could raise if they ran some sort of County-Fair-Type-Thang which featured a bunch of cool bands playing, a few kegs of beer, and a single booth: The Take Off Your Shoes And Whip Them at George W Bush booth.

I would pay $500 a shoe for such a privilege (really, I would); some would pay more, and a whole lot less, but if that stupid Mofo would just sit at that booth long enough for, say…Wilco and Radiohead and Beck to play full sets, the RNC could easily raise a few million bucks…which they could just hand to Sarah Palin for her run in 2012.

Imagine the Shopping Spree Ho-down those Alaskan Hillbillies would have! (Again).

You probably heard the same thing I did today — that feet are a stinky, yucky thing to our fine Arab friends, and when someone hurls a shoe at you while you’re in, say, Saudi Arabia, they really think you’re a dirty dog. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, Muntadhar al Zaidi called Mr President a dirty fucking dog while security was taking him down.

Why did security take him down? It was a secure room, and he was throwing shoes at Bush. What the fuck? My sister used to throw her shoes at me all the time, and even when she made a direct hit, the worst thing I ever got was a bloody nose.

Know what Muntadhar al Zaidi got?

Maybe 8 to 10 years in the slam.

And a whole bunch of dead relatives while we made Iraq a great place, Free & Full o’ Democracy.

Wait. Wasn’t it all about Al-Quaida?

Wait. Wasn’t it all about liberating Iraq from Saddam?

Wait. Wasn’t it all about the WMD’s that were all over the place?

Wait. Wasn’t it all about 911?

Wait.

You’re in for some good news. I’m starting to feel sleepy. So sleepy I’ll skip over the sappy, stoopid Falling in Love with a Big Fat Liar ghey-ness (cause I’m saving that one for a rainy day) and move right into my birthday, cause it’s almost 3 am, which means at almost exactly this time, some 45 years ago, I crept out of my mom’s V-Jay Jay to start my life.

Did I tell you the very first thing I ever did was piss all over the doctor and his nurses?

Really, I did. It was a long, fine, golden stream that seemed to catch everyone (and by surprise, too) so much so that the doctor said something along the lines of, “well, we know his plumbing works!”

It was 20 below that day, and the very first picture taken of me was in my great-grandmother’s arms, with my great-grandpa smiling at me. He was a retired Chicago cop — a big Irishman — and she owned a bar on the South Side for years and years. (She served “ice cream” during prohibition, and somehow I think she’s the only dead relative I have that thinks what I do it OK).

Ever think your dead relatives watch you beat off to porn? And they’re tsk-tsking you in Heaven, and waiting to chide you for it once you get there?

I bet you’ve thought that — more than once. And I bet you’re worried that God has watched you beat your fucking meat as well.

You fucking pervert.

How about this: your relatives are watching you beat off and they’re envious, and they’re cheering you on, cause they know how much fun that shit is, and they wish they could do the same.

You fucking pervert.

Once I asked Father Mike what Heaven was like. The only thing I remember was, “the streets are paved with gold” which, even when you’re 12, sounds a little off. I wanted to ask Father Mike something like, “if the streets are paved with gold, that makes gold valuable, which means people in Heaven will want it, which means we’re all have jobs in Heaven, which means to me, heaven kinda sucks, and I’m only 12 and never had to work a day in my life.”

Instead I said something like “Wow Father Mike! Tell me more!!” which, at that point, he led me into the Rectory’s hot tub for a little chat.

Just kidding.

Not really.

Father Dale was another story. He was the fine Catholic priest who would come say a prayer at my little brother’s football games, and then linger around and ask all the boys after the game — while they were showering — how it all went. He was also the one the had those same boys write his name on their underwear, so when they got dirty, lustful thoughts, they’d see the words “Father Dale” rise with their tighty-whiteys, which, of course, would make them cease thinking about whatever it was that was giving them a boner; hence, they’d lost the filth and only think pure, clean thoughts…and their boners would suddenly vanish!

You fucking pervert.

I’m telling the truth about Father Mike — who really was a great guy and never once asked me to take a dip with him in the hot tub; as well as Father Dale — who really did do all the things I just said.

Oh, and the hot tub thing came from Father Dale, who really had a hot tub.

At his rectory.

Just in case any of the teens from the group he founded — “Life Teen” — wanted to take go tubbing with him.

And you were worried about God and your dead relatives watching you beat off to porn.

Ever wonder why shooting porn is legal and prostitution isn’t?

Wait.

Scratch that.

Ever wonder why shooting porn is legal, and the cops can’t come crashing into my studio to bust me for pandering?

Pandering — 1 : the act or crime of recruiting prostitutes or of arranging a situation for another to practice prostitution.

2 : the act or crime of selling or distributing visual or print media (as magazines) designed to appeal to the recipient’s sexual interest.

In a couple words: Freeman v. California.

Hal Freeman was this cat who made dirty movies, and one of them — called “Caught from Behind II” (that would be the sequel to “Caught from Behind”) — was released about the time the State of California had a hard-on (pardon the awful pun) for porno, and they wanted it shut down, so they decided to bust smut peddlers under their brand new, very tough pandering laws.

This was in the 80’s, and Hal Freeman was arrested for pandering after producing and distributing “Caught From Behind II”.

Let me digress for a second: Bill Margold, an acquaintance of mine (I can’t really call him a “friend”, but we’re friendly…I just dunno if he’d remember me if we ran into each other) always told me the biggest mistake PT Anderson made with his film, “Boogie Nights”, was not showing the illegalities when making smut. Cause it was totally illegal to make a dirty movie up until Freeman v CA, so dirty movies were shot in secret places, and more than once Bill and the rest of the cast and crew had to haul ass from set when the cops showed up.

And he’s right — PT Anderson shoulda had one scene in his movie when Dirk Diggler and Reed Rothchild and Rollergirl and Jack Horner haul ass from set cause the cops show up.

Anyways, Hal Freeman was popped for pandering, and he lost his first appeal, and it looked like the State of California was on its way to shutting down our beloved smut industry.

Until Freeman’s case got to the Supreme Court of California, and they overturned his conviction because they felt hiring actors to fuck and suck in front of a camera wasn’t covered in the state’s pandering law.

The only way they could have nailed Freeman was if he paid the actors to suck and fuck him.

The State of California got pissed, and they took the case to the Supreme Court, and the Supreme Court decided not to hear it; hence, shooting smut in California was legalized. This was 1989, and, from what I could find about Hal Freeman, he died that same year.

I’m blogging this cause just the other day the state of New Hampshire ruled last Thursday that a man who offered to pay two adults to have sex while he videotaped the act is not guilty of a crime.

According to the court docs, the defendant “”was employed as a court security officer in Franklin District Court. On December 5, 2005, he asked a young woman, C.H., and her boyfriend, J.S., who were at the court paying fines, if they needed employment. After informing them that he could not discuss the job at the courthouse, he met them in a parking lot behind a bank. The defendant asked the couple if they wanted to make ‘fuck flicks.’ The defendant specified the details: he would pay them fifty dollars per hour, he would rent a hotel room, and they would use temperature blankets and different condoms while the defendant videotaped them having intercourse.”

Temperature blankets?

Condoms for the couple?!

Fifty bucks per hour!

The couple wasn’t interested, and went and told mommy about the bad, bad security guard from the court house, so mommy filed a compliant with the court.

Dude recently winds up winning, so now, in addition to California, it’s OK to shoot a dirty movie in New Hampshire.

As long as it’s not a POV.

Mark writes:

You posted today about that ridiculous craigslist add, which was no doubt laughable. But i can’t help but notice every time you discuss the issue of the “choice” pornstars make you seem to get a little irate. And while I liked your line: “But you know what? People make decisions all day long, and it’s our ability as adults to make decisions — good or bad — that make life worth living.”

I think the operative word there is “adult.” Is an 18 year old really an adult with the “ability” to make a good decision? They’re not able enough to drink booze or rent a car. What were you like when you were 18? Were you capable of making decisions with the full understanding of the consequences?

I mean I’m only 25 but when i look back at how stupid i was at 18, it’s borderline embarrassing. And, yes, I definitely had some concept of responsibility Even than, but i had a decent upbringing and WASN’T MOLESTED. So should an 18 year old girl with a shitty upbringing and a tormented past really be given the “right” to make a life-changing decision, most likely on a whim?

I understand why you might get defensive, it’s how you make your bread. But 18? Business aside, why not move the age up to 21?
___________________________

Hey Mark. To get right to it — no.

No way an 18 year old should be allowed to appear in a dirty movie.

Shit — something like half of the 18 year olds these days can’t even graduate high school, let alone make an important decision about anything concerning their future.

But the law’s the law, and it says once you’re a legal adult, you can suck and fuck on camera.

Just take a look at barely-legal teen Nicole Ray. She turned 18 a few months before I shot her at The Dick Suckers. Will she regret that decision when she’s 30?

Probably.

There’s a plethora of other things 18 year olds shouldn’t legally be able to do — voting comes immediately to my mind.

When I was 18 all I cared about is the sport I was playing, when I was gonna get my next Manojob, and where the keg parties were Friday and Saturday night.

Oh yea, and my homework…but that was last on the list.

The operative phrase here is “is it legal?” — and yea, it sure is…even though we don’t agree with it. And bro — I’m close to 45 but when i look back at how stupid i was at 30, it’s borderline embarrassing.

In fact, when does it ever end? I’m sure when I’m 60 I’ll look back at all the stupid things I did when I was 45…which will probably include directing pornographic movies.

If I was King Of The World, public school teachers would be exempt from paying Federal and State income tax. Wilco would be our nation’s official rock and roll band. Then I’d make Veteran’s Day our nation’s official day to vote. Apple and Windows would create operating systems that would make it impossible to play bootleg files of any kind. I’d allow gays get married. Upon the birth of a second child to a family, either mom gets her tubes tied or dad gets his vas deferens soldered. I’d revoke the tax-exempt status for The Church of Latter Day Saints. I’d fuck with The Scientologists, too. I’d create a “Loser Leaves Town, No Holes Barred, non-referred Texas Style Cage Match” between an Israelite and a Palestinian, where each side would chose a representative to fight, and the losers would be forced by the rest of the world to really leave town and set up shop somewhere outside Barstow, California, cause, well…what’s the difference Barstow and Israel/Palestine, anyways? Big Oil would cough up their secrets on solar and wind power. I’d make the CIA tell everyone who really whacked JFK. Oh! And I’d make them fess up as to what really went down in Roswell, NM, too. Wal Mart would pay reparations to every Mom and Pop Shop they put out of business. The Vatican would give full access to all the holdings in their library. I’d ask Michel Gondry to be Queen of The World.

And finally — I’d raise the age requirements on performing in adult movies to 21.

Well, I can’t really say that. I have no idea if Mr. Duchovny reads I Shoot Porn. But I’m sure you know he’s checked himself into rehab for his “addiction to sex”.

Specifically porn addiction.

Specifically an online porn addiction.

I was never an X-Files fan. Never watched a single episode.

I’m not a Californication fan. Never watched a single episode.

From what I’ve read, he plays an oversexed writer on Californication.

Art imitating life.

Life imitates art.

But wait a sec…porn isn’t art!

Never was, never can be…and the poor saps who continue to fight me on this will never figure it out: if said object (in this case, film) was created with the sole purpose of making a dude take his ween out of his chones and pull it hard til it erupts, then it ain’t art.

But I digress.

I was listening to Howard Stern when I first learned Mr. Duchovny likes to beat his meat to online adult entertainment. I didn’t know his wife — Téa Leoni — nor did I know she was super hot, but that makes sense…on two fronts: gay or straight, successful actors marry hot chicks, and then they learn: no matter how good the pussy is at home (or even how good it looks, cause I’m thinking the hotter a chick looks, the worse she is in the sac), you eventually tire of it, right?

If you don’t believe what I said, just ask Hugh Grant.

Or, if you’re married, just ask yourself.

Oh! And it works both ways, too — no matter how good the dick is, you eventually tire of it, right?

No Way Am I Gay.

Even Ms. Leoni admits this. In an Elle interview, she says, “Men are like bulls….They gotta get the new cow.” And then she said, in the same interview, “Maybe you’ve got to get the bull after he’s had a lot of cows, so you might just be the last new one.”

Now she knows, the show ain’t over for this Bull. Unless, of course, it’s “OK” for a dude to beat off to porn. Meaning that it’s part of the green light in their relationship. Something like, you can look at porn, but that’s it. No going to strip joints!

I know a couple where it’s “OK” for Dude to get blown (and only blown) — as long as he doesn’t get her phone number.

I know a couple where it’s “OK” for Wifey to fuck — as long as Hubby gets to watch.

I know a couple where Dude keeps new clothes hidden in his trunk, so when he leaves to go out on “Buddy Night”, he’s dressed in a particular outfit his wife (obviously) recognizes, then when he gets to the strip joint, he changes into New Outfit (usually purchased at Target), then enjoys all the $20 lap dances he can afford…and then, before he leaves to return to Wifey, he takes those clothes off and tosses them into Strip Joint Dumpster.

He reasoned with me that Wifey had the ability to “smell” the strippers on him.

I countered with, “then find a Goodwill drop box for those clothes, you fucking dope!”

Isn’t porn is the safest way to cheat on your significant other? This is why my profession is so important in our modern society; porn is doing its part in saving a crumbling institution.

Hence, I am more important that John McCain…but not as much as Barak Obama.

Howard Stern said being addicted to sex is a lot like being addicted to champagne, and I agree.

Artie Lange said something like, “so, in other words, he’s [David Duchovny] just being a dude!”

Exactly.

I heard a rumor that Duchovny was male talent once. In a dirty movie. I Googled this, but after about page 4 I gave up. Nothing in the Rumor Mill about Duchovny as male talent, but if he was in a skin flick, I wonder if David managed to keep wood ok? Was it an anal scene? Maybe a DP! How did Ducovny’s pop shot end up? Was it big and messy? Did he manage to blow it all over Porn Whore’s pretty, pretty face? And what was his stage name?

If he managed to hold wood and deliver a good pop, then he pulled off a great scene…but only if Porn Whore managed to show all of her discomfort, distress, and disdain for that big, messy, face full of X-Filescalifornication cum.

Right?

Lately, I’ve been fucking depressed.

I dunno what about, either. Well, I kinda know. Ready for some cry-babying?

This move to LA was really hard. Moving is really hard, but you already know that. And adding to it the fact that I didn’t really want to relocate to LA…well, that made it suck balls.

Swiss Balls.

Ever move somewhere you really don’t wanna be? In my case, I always had an escape route out of LA, and that was back home. Now, LA is home. And before you go bustin’ my balls with your comments on my waa-waa-waaing, I know there’s a lot of shittier places to call home other than LA.

Gary, Indiana, immediately comes to mind. I don’t care if The Jackson 5 hail from that god awful place, it’s still a Mighty Shit Hole. In fact, might as well lump in any city in the Midwest…including Chicago. I’d go as far as to say anyplace South of the Mason-Dixon line sucks, too. Anywhere in the northeast — sans New York City — sucks. Texas? Ugh. New Mexico? Ew. Colorado might be nice, but it snows there. In fact, anywhere north is too cold. Seattle can eat my ass; however, Portland is very cool, and I’d live there…during the summer months, anyways.

I miss San Francisco a lot, but there’s no work in SF…or Portland. Especially not in my highly specialized field of creating smut from scratch.

I dunno…maybe LA isn’t so bad. Amoeba is here, and so is Adrianna Nicole, and my pal Ira’s used book store; there’s Roscoe’s House of Chicken and Waffles, and The Vista (where Ed Wood, Jr., kept an office above the theater), and Intelligentsia and La Luz de Jesus; there’s some really cool museums I need to check out, and, I dunno…maybe I’ll learn to surf.

I’m bummed cause I also lost a very dear friend (and a partner in crime) recently…someone really special. Nope — no deaths to report — just some Tom Foolery that went awry.

Tom Foolery that went way awry.

Do you think — after it’s all said and done — something can be salvaged between us? Does anyone apologize for anything anymore? (This includes me, by the way.) Does anyone ever forgive anyone anymore? (This includes me, by the way.) Does anyone tell The Truth anymore? (This includes me, by the way.)

God damn relationships. I swear sometimes it’s easier to just buy a dog and be done with them.

Well, almost all of them.

I’m also really bummed cause I also lost an old friend recently. This one really did die. He wasn’t feeling very well, and he went to the hospital, but he didn’t have insurance, and he was afraid of more bills…so he went home and died. Alone. In his tiny apartment in the Haight. His landlord found him 4 days after he passed, and sometimes I worry a lot that’s how I’ll die — alone.

Maybe I need to be medicated.

I thought about that, too. Any fun meds you can recommend? I once lived next to a girl named Lisa Joy. That was really her name. Totally ironic, too, cause Lisa Joy was sad almost all the time. She told me once, “You know, Billy, they should just pump Prozac into the water. It would make the world a better place!”

To me, Prozac seems so 1991. Maybe that’s cause I lived next to Lisa Joy in 1991.

What else is there…besides Prozac, I mean? All I need is a little something to take the edge off…you know…so I can at least concentrate on a simple conversation with a friend, or not want to walk off the next bridge I cross…or walk into traffic.

I hear Xanax bars are fun, but they terrify me. I managed to eat 1/2 of one, once; nothing really significant happened. I slept really well, and I didn’t get hooked! I woulda ate the other half, but the next day a whore stole it — right off my desk — after we got done checking her AIM test before a scene.

Fuckin’ whores.

Maybe I need to stop making smut. Find Jesus. Start doing push-ups and knee bends every morning. Some sit-ups, too. Then, make a resumé and find and a good job with The State — or Big Corporation — just to reap all those wonderful benefits: 10 days a year of paid vacation, health and dental, and a suit and tie.

You didn’t see me sit back in my chair, reread that last paragraph, and wonder what the fuck am I thinking? but I really did just that. Jesus and Corporate jobs and suits and ties frighten me more than any addictions to prescription drugs.

A suits and a tie…oh man.

I talked to my very best friend the other day. We’ve known each other since about 1978. In fact, it was his Biff’s older brother — and his collection of Swedish Erotica Super 8 film loops — that introduced me to girls getting facials. Big, messy facials.

And I haven’t been the same, since.

His name is Bif, and he’s Corporate all the way. Suit and tie. 9 to 5. Wife and kids. The whole she-bang.

Half way through our conversation, he said, “dude, you’re my hero! Keep making porn!!”

Funny thing is, he’s mine; any one, I think, who can be a good family man, wins my Hero Vote.

OK — enough is enough. No more cry-babying here! Instead, I’m gonna go make a PB & J and put on side one of Meat is Murder — specifically for “I Want The One I Can’t Have” — and then I’ll start contemplating a future blog: “They’re all Tender Young Hooligans”.

Cause there’s nothing better than a little Morissey when you’re really down in the dumps.

Is it any coincidence that Max Hardcore gets convicted the day before a substitute teacher — teaching a class a few miles away from the very courtroom Max was convicted — was trying to win over his class with a magic trick…and got fired on grounds of “wizardry”?

I wish this was a joke.

What’s going on here? Have I been secretly transported to some weird universe while I was sleeping? Am I really living in a world where George Bush is President, and torture is legal, and gas is five bucks a motherfucking gallon, and we’re in a war for no reason, and Kim Kardashian has a TV show, and everything is just plain fucking wrong?

A place where a substitute teacher is fired cause he’s a Wizard?

Did I ever tell you I was a substitute teacher? For $42 a day, I was told things like “you’re not my real teacher, so fuck off” and I was completely ignored whenever I told my fine students anything at all, and the faculty pretty much ignored me, and once a Principal made me move my car from faculty parking to student parking cause, well, he was an asshole.

At least I wasn’t accused of wizardry. If I was a wizard, I woulda case a spell in which the school district paid all subs $500 a day, all subs got health insurance and a car allowance, and all the 18 year old senior girls blew me until they took a facial — whether or not they were good looking.

Today, I got a massage, and no…no happy ending. But afterwards, I went to log in to my yahoo mail and noticed gas rose $11 a barrel (the highest single day rise ever in the history of oil), the Dow dropped 400 points, Israel says they’re gonna blow up Iran, and one of the stories on Yahoo News was about the top secret, underground concrete bunker, 30 miles from the North Pole, that contains something like 100,000 frozen seeds — solely for the purpose of re-planting the Earth after we blow it to bits.

Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?

But I already know the answer: nothing, of course.

The media knows fear sells — almost as much as sex.

I just wanna know why everyone’s pissed at porn…and not MSNBC.

Max Hardcore is a perverted motherfucker who is bad for my business. I’ve met the man once — briefly — at my studio about six months ago, and even though I can’t really speak accurately about his character, I’m gonna go ahead and call him a misogynistic piece of shit who hates women; furthermore, if you could jump into a Time Machine and transport yourself to Paul Little’s 8th grade dance, you’d see him, I’m quite sure, standing up against a wall, watching everyone else have fun.

If he even went to a dance in 8th grade.

Max was found guilty today of 10 federal counts of distributing obscene materials over the Internet and through the mail. His company Max World Entertainment was also found guilty on 10 related charges. George Bush’s Fucked-up Right Wing Posse even went as far to try and seize his home — but that’s where the court drew the line.

I wish Max would have dried up and gone out of business long ago, but that fact is, he didn’t. Which means he’s moving product. And if you don’t know about his product, it’s puking and pissing, mainly, and it’s girls puking…and getting pissed on, and Max likes to dress some of them up like they’re 12, and, in one instance that I know of, he even had the girl say she was 12 in his little porno skit.

Pardon the pun, please.

Anyways, that’s about the time the Feds said enough is enough, so they went after him on 2257 charges, as well obscenity charges. And frankly, I don’t blame them on the 2257 deal.

This is all rolling off the top of my head, so heads-up for any errors.

I just blogged about this obscenity shit a few days ago, and how easy it really is to define…but with Max Hardcore’s (temporary) defeat, I think I’ll continue my rant.

I’m pretty sure there’s some people who don’t really see much difference in the interracial sex movies I make and Max’s Puking Pissy flicks. They certainly don’t see Max as a “bad” guy and me as a “good” guy: we’re both cut from the same filthy cloth, and they think we’re both part of the Decline of Western Civilization.

Digression #1: I just scored a super sweet copy of Penelope Spheeris’s “Decline of Western Civilization”, and if you haven’t seen it, please do, but know that any copy you can buy now is a bootleg, but the one I scored was crystal clear, and my favorite part is when Billy Zoom declines John Doe’s offer for a really bad home made tat while they were sitting around a kitchen table with a pin and some India Ink…bravo Billy!

I’m no better than Max Hardcore in as much as we both make dirty movies.

Digression #2: I went to all my school dances, and I had a really good time, whether or not I took a date or went by myself, and once, in 9th grade, while I was at the dance with a girl named Sherry, I looked down to see — in complete and utter horror — that the fly to my pants had broken somehow, and my underpants were hanging out, and they were blue, silky underpants my mom had just bought for me, and they were kinda gay, but I worn them anyways cause no matter what my mom got me I’d appreciate and wear, no matter how gay the present…plus, No Way Am I Gay.

A lot of people hate Max, and me, and anyone else who makes porn, and they want to stomp the shit out of us for it, and they think that by stomping the shit out of us, the world will be a better place.

Silly rabbits. Tricks are for johns.

Digression #3: I buy Christopher Hitchen’s argument that religion is “violent, irrational, intolerant, allied to racism, tribalism, and bigotry, invested in ignorance and hostile to free inquiry, contemptuous of women and coercive toward children…” and the world would be a better place without any religion at all, which is not to say I don’t believe in God (which is to say I just blew out a double negative). And the only reason for this digression is the Right Wing Christian dopes, who, under George Bush’s reign, have fucked this country up almost to the point of no repair, cause they’re the ones who want to stomp the shit out of me and my kind.

There’s no reason to dress a girl up like she’s 12, shove a dick down her throat til she pukes, and then clean her up by pissing all over her.

I can think of a million reasons to pleasure yourself by watching interracial sex movies, a good, old-fashioned handjob movie, or a blowjob movie, or even an ass-munching flick.

Max Hardcore has every right to make his movies; I just wish people wouldn’t buy them.

I’m glad the government didn’t take his house.

And I sincerely hope he wins his appeal, because at that moment Freedom of Speech will win the day, and then — and only then — will our Constitution be worth a shit.

I was checking out the BBC’s news magazine the other day, and this certainly caught my eye: “A bill outlawing the possession of ‘extreme pornography’ is set to become law next week.”

Remember, the BBC is the UK’s primary news service; this isn’t about what’s happening in the US.

What’s happening in the US is John Stagliano and Max Hardcore, mainly; I really don’t keep up with that stuff at all, except for what I hear and read, which is Stagliano is in trouble for milk enema movies and squirting movies and, as well all know, Max Hardcore has a hard time keeping himself from fisting and pissing on girls.

I’m writing most of this off the top of my head, and from what I can recall, the US courts have always had a hard time defining the word “obscene”. Shit, I have a hard time defining it. A long time ago a judge did his very best to avoid giving any sort real answer when he said something like he “knew it when he saw it”.

Which is a politician’s way of dealing with a tough question, if a politician would even give that sort of question a shot.

So here’s what the UK is coming up with, if you haven’t read it already:

As defined by the new Criminal Justice Bill, “extreme pornography” (and I’m thinking “extreme” is just a different way to say “obscene”) is:

1) An act which threatens or appears to threaten a person’s life
2) An act which results in or appears to result in serious injury to a person’s anus, breasts or genitals
3) An act which involves or appears to involve sexual interference with a human corpse
4) A person performing or appearing to perform an act of intercourse or oral sex with an animal

OK. My first reaction is the Brits must be geniuses, cause they don’t seem to have a problem defining what we can’t. Then I’m gonna say that if I were King Of The World, I’d do the following:

With #2, I’d get rid of the words “or appears to result in” and just have that rule read —

2) An act which results in serious injury to a person’s anus, breasts or genitals.

(After all, Vince McMahon and the WWF (E) have been doing it since about 1971, right? And what would happen to Mistress Chanta, my sometimes dinner pal and Enjoyer of Chinese Food?)

Oh! I almost forgot — add something along the lines of another rule, let’s call it #5, which would read:

5) An act which portrays or appears to portray any sort of forced sex act upon a person.

Which means the old box cover you see here…the one I found simply Googleing (or is it Googling ?) “rape” would be a crime, and it would be a felony, and I’m no lawyer, but let’s make it a mid-level felony for first timers, and when I say first timers I mean people who are posessing it.

Producers of that fucking shit — in my book — would go to jail for a very, very long time.

See, how hard is that, Mr. Judge Who Answers Questions Like a Politician?

Squirt fans and milk enema fans everywhere — you’re fuckin’ good to go.

Oh, also, as King Of The World, I would give some sort of tax incentive to producers of scat movies, BUT ONLY if the female talent is pooping on the male talent.

Which is to say, scat movies where men are pooping on women aren’t allowable by law, but women can shit on men all they want.

Afterall, we’ve been doing it to them since about 10,000 BC…it’s their turn, now.

And everyone should be forced to watch.

As far as you bestiality fans, I guess I’m a tree-hugging hippie, cause I don’t think an animal should be coerced into doing something it really doesn’t want to do, even if that means banging Barbie Cummings — so hate on me all you want.

Or, until a dog or a horse can verbally communicate to us and say something like, “Hey! I sure do wanna bang that hot blonde — bring her on!” I’m totally thumbs down on animal porn.

Which may make bestiality fans wonder — where is Mr. Ed when we need him?

With my rant now officially concluded, everyone enjoy “Porn & Beans”, The Weez’s new video, and one you’ll really love if you’ve spent any time on the internet at all.

Harold from Zurich, Switzerland, writes:

A long while back I sent you an admiring email about Adrianna Nicole. The upshot was that, particularly in the rubber-gloved manojob scene you did with her, she just looked so utterly slutty and trashy and whatever-y that even to this day I can get wood remembering the scene.

And you replied saying “Great email. Shame you mentioned how she looks older, ’cause otherwise I’d show it to her.”

Well, you posted another update, with another scene. And she’s lost some of the slut-trash edge. (Maybe it’s just that her blonde has less suicide in it. I dunno.) So now she looks like a quietly desperate accounts payable clerk, who has to go to that “classic rock” club because she’s behind the curve on the music scene, and still thinks that Pearl Jam is where it’s at. And she winds up sucking your dick in the parking lot because she won’t take you to her place, and is too afraid to go to yours.

I love those chicks. And Adrianna is their queen.

On a totally different note, I found two new pornwhores to drool over. There’s this chick Whitney Stevens. She’s trash. But (1) I have a cousin named Whitney, also with the big titties; and (2) there’s this one scene where she’s wearing the heels, bent at the waist, and getting pounded. I think it’s the boob-swing, but there’s something there that made me want to shout “handcuff her and do her in the ass!” The clip wasn’t worth saving–too much space for too little joy. But that half a second of was worth mentioning. Her face is too deep, her eyes too close together – she looks like that Jewish princess from high school that wanted to be “bad” but couldn’t really pull it off. Did you have one of those in school? I was too much of a nerd to get any action back then, but I can just imagine her (her name was Michelle something) going for it, and Whitney looks like that. If you can find her cheep, blow a load in her face and tell her it’s a POV shot. (I bet she’s a cum-dodger, though.)

My real new discovery is this tramp called “Bunny de la Cruz.” She’s this short, fat, nasty thing that for whatever reason has just exactly the right shape. The woman is a walking fuck toy. I honestly think that you could put a bill before the U.S. Congress permitting the ownership of women, and drag her in as your primary justification, and it would pass. At least for the next two weeks, until whatever drug du jour kills her or starts giving her that crack-ho diet, she’s this plump little fuck-bunny.

Seriously, Bunny and Adrianna should be for sale on eBay. I couldn’t afford them, but it would give me hope. The American Dream, 21st century edition. (And none of this “private session” / “escort” crap! Not rent – own!)

On an unrelated note, what’s your thought for the election?

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You know, Harold, I’ve never blogged about politics, but I will today.

If Barak Obama isn’t elected to The Presidency, I’m leaving America for good.

I’ll move to Europe and become a wandering soul.

I’ll move to Tibet and become a Monk and think all day.

I’ll move to New Zealand and marry a Māori woman and eat a lot of lamb.

To quote my hero, Bill Maher — Barak Obama has a huge cock that smells like curry. This alone makes him the best choice for President of the United States.

Here’s a quick I Shoot Porn quiz:

When it’s time to deal with The Middle East crisis, which is, quite possibly, the greatest threat to human livelihood over the next 100 years, who are the Arabs most likely gonna listen to:

A) A Woman.

B) An old white guy.

C) Barak Hussein Obama.

D) Billy Watson.

Here’s another quiz:

John McCain is:

A) A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing

B) A Old White Guy In the Highest Tax Bracket And Loves His Tax Loopholes and Will Suck Corporate Cock All Day Long

C) A War Monger

D) All of the above.

Finally:

Hillary Clinton is:

A) In Reality, Bill

B) Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire!

C) A Liberal Socialist In the Highest Tax Bracket And Loves Her Tax Loopholes and Will Suck Corporate Cock All Day Long

D) Still Kinda Pissed Over Monica

Do I really need to tell you the answers…or do you know them already?

Look, everyone needs to vote Obama, cause it’s time change things up. Let’s make it interesting. A Clinton and/or Bush as Pres or VP goes back to 19 mother fuckin’ 80. Republicans can’t be serious when they vote McCain, and if they are, it’s simply to keep their fucking status quo.

I hate politics.

No…I hate people who stick with their party even when they know it’s not in America’s best interest, and I hate people who stick with their party cause they think they’re always right.

All I’m saying is it’s just time for a change.

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(Not the real) Ron Jeremy follows up this blog with:

read your blog today billy, here are my thoughts:

1. all politicians are lying fuckbags, it comes down to who is the lesser evil
2. i can’t stand shitbags who say “i’m moving to another country if so and so doesn’t win”. Oh, because you don’t get your way your gonna leave? Maybe we should make Billy in charge of electing new press so he stays, sounds democratic doesn’t it?
3. i’m liking barak but don’t be so down on mccain, dude has spent great deal of effort on campaign reform so he is no more a corp cocksucker than the rest, in fact he may be less so. Gotta also give him a pat on the back for not being a “party line guy”, he’s pissed off republicans quite a bit doing what he thinks is right. Also gotta give him props for sticking in captivity with his men for an extra 4 years when he was given chance to leave w/o rest of his comrades, that says a lot.
4. I think we should lock all 3 in cages and poke them with sticks, whoever survives becomes pres.