The Dick Suckers on DVD
I was afraid, though, that I was cheapening the site. I’m not sure how it’ll all end up, but I think I’ve made the right decision.
I went with VooDoo House cause I trust the dude who owns and operates it about as far as I can throw him, and, in the DVD distribution world, that’s saying a lot.
He’s a big, burly mofo, too, which means he’s not too easy to toss around. I think I could toss him ten or twelve feet though.
In other words, I trust him.
Here’s a direct link to purchase The Dick Suckers, Volume 1.
Here’s the trailer: let’s call it a free blow job movie so the search engine pervs can find it easier.
Let me brag here a second: Ryan Hunter, Abbey Brooks, Adrianna Deville, Anna Von Trap, Beau Marie, Charlotte Vale, Hayden Knight, Jasmine Jolie, Jayma Reid, Jenny Hendrix, cover girl Casey Chase, Kiara Diane, Miley Ann, Nicole Ray, Riley Ray, Taylor Thomas, Tia Ling, Daisy Layne, Aliana Love, and motherfuckin’ Jenni Lee.
How about them apples?
(Oh, here’s a nifty link to price shop it as well!)
Jessi Stone — Don’t Worry, She’s with The Band.
Fiftieth.
As in fiddy.
Just the thought of spending 50 days in a van with four other dudes for 23 hours a day — just so you can jump out and spend an hour on stage — made me feel gross.
They looked kinda gross, too.
But that’s the price to pay to be in a band.
I asked them, “you guys hate each other yet?” To my surprise, they all said no.
My little bro introduced me to The Lead Singer; he knew The Lead Singer from the indie music scene around my old Arizona neighborhood. We approached him a while back to write a song for No Way Am I Gay. Then he approached me to make their first music video.
“What show was best so far?” I asked The Singer.
“Brooklyn,” he said. “Cause I got drunk and laid.”
I asked, “Did you catch his name?”
We all laughed. And it might have been The Guitarist — or maybe The Drummer — who said, “tell him about The Blumkin.”
Maybe The Bass Player said it. I don’t recall. But The Singer told me he was pooping after a gig and there were people in the bathroom and The Guitarist blew him mid-turd as the crowd watched in disbelief.
I think that’s how the story went.
Of course I screamed, “No way!”
There were laughing hard. I said, “That’s a joke, right?’
I don’t think it was.
They were in LA for three or four days. “I hope you guys don’t mind sleeping on porno furniture. I mean my PA cleans it, and I generally don’t have the guys pop on the furniture. It’s always on the girls, and it’s always when they’re on their knees, over here,” and I pointed to the middle of the floor. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…if I were you, I wouldn’t sleep on the floor. There’s a whole lotta dried-up DNA on that floor.”
One of them said, “We don’t mind.”
For the next few days I went about my business — making smut.
The Band hung out and watched The Smut Show. That’s when I started thinking about how I could hire The Band, cause indie bands making the rounds are always hurting for money. They told me they played one night for $8 — after their bar tab was paid. Since there’s 4 of them and a tour manager, they pocketed a whopping $1.60 for the night.
Plus beer.
I had a way for them to pocket a little cash; they were down.
I booked Jessi Stone for Blacks on Blondes — a two-on-one. You know I’ve professed my love for Jessi Stone more than once.
While she sat in make-up I dreamnt up another cheezy porno scenario…one which would put The Band in a little more than beer money.
That’s when I do it, by the way. Dream up cheezy porno scenarios. How fucking funny is it that people write porno scripts and spend money and time and effort dreaming up shit people are going to ignore? Oh sure, there’s a few twisted fucks who will follow a porno story line…but come on.
Really?
I like to massage the Porno Princess’s shoulders when they’re in the make-up chair. It’s also when I spring my pervy, creepy, wholly inappropriate porno scenarios on them. “So here’s what I’m thinking,” I told Jessi. “You’re at a small party. It’s you and the band. Let’s have The Guitarist be your boyfriend. Act bored the whole time. And you’ve invited 2 of your new friends to join this small party — Hooks and Skeeter. You spring this on them right as the black guys walk in. Oh, and when they walk in, act like it’s Christmas Morning. After you introduce everyone, tell Hooks and Skeeter you’re bored, and this is a boring party, cause you’re with boring guys, and you want to take them a big party. Everyone stands up to go to this big party, but you tell the white boys they’re not invited to a big party…cause they’re small. Then, you go to the next room and fuck so the small party can hear what’s going on in the big party. At the end of your big party, come back to the small party and give your boyfriend a kiss for letting you go to the big party.”
And so it came to be.
Oh…and I’d like to add that the finale of Jessi’s Big Party was as big and messy as any party I’ve ever caught on camera. And while I’m talking about finales, Jessi is no longer in the Porno Game. Dr. Phil rescued her from our Evil World with a 4 year scholarship to college.
I’m fucking serious.
A Proxy Paige Piss Story.
Really, there is.
Maybe you know this already.
Example: I had Proxy Paige in the studio last week to shoot a scene for Manojob. She’s the new gal on the block. One of many. Lately, it seems, there’s a ton of heets coming to Porno Land, and Proxy’s just one. (Wait til you get a load of her real-life roomie Lilly LaBeau).
Proxy struts into my studio, and my wiener is stiff from the get-go. She’s really cute n’ bubbly. She’s all smiles n’ giggles. She’s sweet n’ sassy.
I have no idea what’s up with the “n’s” — but I have noticed them a lot lately in a ton of different marketing campaigns: Suds n’ Duds, Mike n’ Ike, Stop n’ Go.
After, say, 10 minutes I tell Proxy, “I really like you, so better watch out, cause I might get all Pervy n’ Creepy.”
“I like pervs. I used to work at a porn shop.”
Turns out Proxy’s from my neck of the woods: Arizona. Specifically, Scottsdale AZ. And the store she used to work at — Zorba’s — has been in the same place since, like, 1976. When I was in high school all my jock buddies would jump into a truck and, wasted on whatever we could get our hands on, would crash the place late nights and hit the movie booths.
Drop a few tokens into the slot n’ howl.
No, it wasn’t a circle jerk. But there were always fags cruising the place.
No random hate crimes either. We’d just laugh at them and make stupid, loud comments until management tossed us out.
I dunno what we woulda done if Proxy Paige asked us to leave.
I did know what do to when Proxy (while waiting to get her make-up done) told me she loved things up her butt.
“May I stick my finger up it?” I asked.
Proxy pulled her panties down, told me to stick my finger out, and then she backed up on it. It slid right in, and her butt hole was warm n’ fuzzy and it felt as good as I’d imagine the inside of her vagina would feel. She giggled, and then she took a few steps forward.
My finger was clean as a whistle. And it smelled like Easter. Tasted even better.
After we shot her scene, Proxy said, “I gotta go pee.”
“Right here,” I replied, and pointed to my mouth.
Proxy smiled. She said something like, “are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
About this time Steve Steele and his crew march in. They’re gonna make another porno masterpiece. I make Niceties and grab Proxy by the arm and march her into the bathroom. I peel off my clothes. I lay on my back. Proxy squats over my mouth and unleashes a mighty stream of piss.
I jerk like a monkey in the zoo.
What’s wrong with me?
Wait a sec…didn’t I ask you that once already?
I mean clinically, of course. So I Google “aroused by urine” and I find Facts about why we should kills fags. On this informative site, I discover “29% of fags engage in urine sex (“golden showers”)”. I also find the term “Urophilia” which I knew about before I went there.
So I Google “Urophilia” and the first hit takes me to The Depression Guide.
The Depression Guide? WTF?
I’m not depressed. I mean I have good days and bad days — just like you. But “depressed”? Cause I’m laying on the bathroom floor, and Proxy Paige is squatting over me, and she’s laughing hysterically?
What part of that do you find depressing? Cause I can’t find a hint of anything even remotely close to it.
And, according to this “Depression Guide”, I have “a mental and behavioral problem and caused due to neurological problem or brain dysfuction.” In addition, a “yellow hanky is the indication of urophilia in gay people.” And, finally, “Pharmacological medicines and psychotherapies are effective to control urophilia.”
I’d like to add right now my urophilia isn’t out of control. Not by a long shot.
I don’t buy anything this fucking Depression Guide has to offer, so I poke around Google some more and discover, “Shirley Manson, lead singer of the popular rock band Garbage, was quoted in an interview as saying ‘I hate boys who are frightened of pee and shit and menstrual blood… I want a man who will let me pee in his belly button’. The Garbage song When I Grow Up contains the lyrics “Happy Hours/Golden Showers”.
Well. Now I feel better.
As I’m banging this out, my family are in the next room. It’s Post-Thanksgiving. I’m trying to be social with them; in addition, Slut X is chatting me up on Yahoo’s IM. Slut X asks me, “what are you bloggin?”
“About the time Proxy Paige pee’d in my mouth,” I replied.
She said, “Ew! Pee doesn’t belong there!”
“Depends on who you ask.”
Cause, after all, happy hours mean golden showers.
A Pimp & His Bitches, Yo.
Uh huh that rhymed.
She likes being in the sex biz and she’s great to work with. She has no problem taking a load to the face. She showed up for her scene on time, and everything went well.
But that’s no fun to read about…right?
And since my blog is nothin’ but fun, I’ll change it up. Soon.
Anyways, I wrap the scene. I give Ginger the elbow-tap for job-well-done. (The elbow-tap is Porno Speak; it’s kinda equivalent to a knuckle-tap…which is kinda the equivalent to a handshake. You certainly don’t wanna shake the hand of a Porno Princess when it’s covered in lube — or the deadly combo of lube and jizz. You don’t even wanna knuckle-tap that shit; hence, the elbow-tap).
I walk into my office…and I walk into a crowd of people. This never happens, and, for a second, I’m taken back. I look at The Minion, who looks at me, and he’s as uncertain about this as I am. My immediate reaction is to yell: first at The Minion, for letting this crew into my space without asking me…and then at the crew…just cause.
I refrained, cause you remember what happened last time, right? If not, the last time I yelled at The Minion he walked, and I don’t blame him. No one really deserves to be yelled at. I’ve started checking myself before I blow my top. It’s working.
So I ask The Minion in my very-best effort of a calm voice, “Dude, what’s up here?”
He answered equally as calming: “It’s your talent for the next scene.”
I take a second look. Two women are setting up a table and prepping food; there’s also an LMT working a and naked woman on her table; yet another is working on wigs. She’s got like 6 Styrofoam heads on another table and she’s combing wigs. The boss is this dude dressed kinda like one of Malcom X’s crew — circa ’66.
I take this all in.
I look at The Minion.
The Minion looks at me.
I started to laugh. So did The Minion. I told The Minion, under my breath, “dude. Grab the camera. This is fucking classic.”
You gotta understand this: Porno Princess is here to do a $400 scene. It’s a BJ scene with a quickie. She’s almost an unknown. No, wait. She is an unknown. A total no-namer. This ain’t no Vivid contract girl. This ain’t even A Name Girl. And here she is with a crew that Jenna Jameson wouldn’t even travel with.
The Man In Charge walked up to me and introduced himself. He’s Porno Princess’s manager. “Greetings and blessings. I’m her personal manager, and we are here to make sure everything goes as planned.” He smiles a lot, and he says “greetings and blessings” a lot, or just “blessings”. He nods his head, and he puts his hands together as in prayer as he speaks.
I get the feeling he’s one of the biggest frauds I’ve ever had the pleasure of encountering in my entire life.
Oh, I didn’t even mention this: in addition, the chef has a PA, and The Man in Charge has a PA, too. Porno Princess is the one on the table, getting a rub down before her scene. The chef is dressed like a chef, with a floppy white chef hat, and she has a small portable burner.
The Chef diced up tomatoes and fruit.
The LMT rubbed and rubbed and rubbed.
The Wig Lady combed a whole bunch.
And sure I’m laughing with The Minion, but all this has me worried, too. Big time. If they’re treating this no-name Porno Princess like this, I know she’s gonna be a handful when I get her on to the glory hole.
Sure enough, she’s a colossal bitch. Her feet hurt. She needs to sit down. Her back hurts. She needs to stand up. Her legs hurt. She needs to bend her legs. Her knees hurt. She needs to stand up and shake them out. She can’t kneel. She can’t fuck through the hole. She won’t swallow. She doesn’t like cum on her face. She can’t have cum shot into or anywhere near her mother fuckin’ wig.
But I’m a new man, remember? I’m the New Billy Watson. I keep my cool. I don’t blow. I don’t yell. I just call The Man In Charge from my cell. “Um, bro, we got a problem.”
I go through the problems.
He replies, “no problem, Billy. Just assert some control over her. Do not allow her to talk back. If she needs to be put in her place, do it. It’s your scene. You’re in charge. She’ll listen to you…just be (long pause) assertive. You know what I mean?”
I smile. I’m dealing with a pimp, and he just confirmed it. I wanted to ask him where all his greetings and blessing went, but I didn’t. I walked back to set and just rolled camera. Cool as a fuckin’ cucumber…just cause you can always count on a pornographer for clichès.
When the load came through the hole, I thought she was gonna hurl. This, of course, makes for great porn.
We left the bathroom and jumped into the van and headed back to the studio.
All I can think of as I’m driving back is another day, another dollar…and another story for my blog.
A $400 scene.
7 people.
If my math is right, they made $57.15 a piece — if they split it all.
My hunch, though, is The Pimp took his $400, plus his $50 agent fee — and he’ll buy all his whores dinner at Sizzler.
After he fills up his gas tank.
No, wait…Shakey’s. Not The Siz’. The all you can eat buffet at Shakey’s.
Cause it’s way more cost effective.
Cause that’s how Pimps roll, yo.
Katja Kassin Has Left The Building.
Hello everybody,
I wanted to take the time to thank everybody in the porn industry and also my fans for the support over the last (almost) 7 years. I decided 2 weeks ago to retire from the adult industry and from sex/adult work in general. The reason is that I have done all that there is to do in the porn/adult/stripper/escort universe.
This year I have finally bought my own house in the SF Valley, a fixer upper foreclosure that I renovated. I remember in March 2003 when I first came to the US with 200 bucks in my pocket (in the year 2010 I can apply for citizenship) – I have come a very far way since then and now I just want to make sure that in another 7 years I can look back and still say that, “wow, have I come a long way in the past 7 years”.
I am very grateful for everything that I have gained by being in this industry. It has taught me a lot about myself, made me a lot of money, got me a lot of free time, made it possible for me to achieve what I wanted to do in almost a blink of an eye compared to how long it takes regular people to to the same. I have met amazing friends and had many good times. But also of course you gain a little, you loose a little so there is a price that I paid for that. I will always have that past. I will always have to deal with judgments until I die. I will have to explain myself to new people I meet and their families. Now is the time in my life where the gain-loose priorities change. I have put the gains to good use in my life and now I am looking at the other side of the calculation and I am realizing I have grown up and moved into a different direction.
When you are 23 you don’t give a fuck about much. You are hating on your parents anyway, you think you don’t need anyone and people talking shit about you makes you feel more important. Now that I am 30 years old it does matter to me what people think of me because I owe it to myself to create different, new things that I can be judged by. Next time my mom goes to get her hair done I don’t want her to have to lie anymore. I want her to say with a proud tone in her voice: “my daughter teaches German classes in L.A.” or whatever it is I am doing.
I don’t want to feel uncomfortable in relationships anymore because of what I do. It is hard for any man to date a porn star, even maybe after you retire. But it is simply impossible to have a relationship while you are making a living fucking other people. It’s been a great ride and a part of my life that I will always look back to with no regrets and lots of funny, weird and crazy stories. It was something that was fun and fit into my life at a younger age but now I want different things for myself.
It was part of my journey and made me who I am today but when I look forward I do not see myself sucking and fucking to pay my mortgage. I see myself working a job that maybe doesn’t pay insane amounts of money but that fulfills me and takes care of my bills that need to be paid. I see myself enjoying a routine, showing up at the same office or place of employment every day at the same time. I see myself building new, stable relationships. I see myself taking on new responsibilities, committing to one person, getting married, starting a family together, making cup cakes and carving pumpkins for Thanksgiving with my kids.
I know I don’t owe anyone any kind of explanation at all but it was important to me to make this statement to show you my reasons.
I have been known in the industry for being professional, reliable, on time and organized and these things haven’t changed so since I am looking for a new challenge and a new job if anyone has any offers or suggestions for me I can be reached at meetkatja@gmail.com – I am very good working at an office desk but also organizing production and I am a good camera girl too.
Thanks again to everybody and especially to Mark Spiegler. Mark, I know you don’t realized it, maybe because I have never told you so, but I owe a lot to you. You were a great mentor and teacher to me and I am still thinking about what you would say in some situations in my life when I need advice. Thanks for your guidance! I will forever be grateful for having had you in my life at some point.
Thanks to all my co stars. There won’t be any juicy remarks now because I have always looked at working with you all as this: work and I think this is why many of you liked shooting with me.
I’ve never been a big attention whore and loved reading people’s comments on how great I am but if you have something good to say about me, if you have enjoyed my work over the last 7 years, please let me know. This is the time and place to do it! I have been looking forward to this very day when I would be writing this statement and now I am very happy but also crying. It’s always hard to leave something you know you’re good at.
kisses
Katja
Interview with a Porn Star (#70) — Ginger Lynn
Ginger Lynn: Um…does my shit stink. You know I’m gonna be a smart ass during this, right?
ISP: You are a smart ass, but I love it. Where does that come from?
GL: My father. He’s a smart ass. His father, too. And my namesake — my great-grandmother, whose nick name was Ginger, not because of her rad hear, but because of she was feisty. Example: my great-grandparents husband swamped! They just got tired of this husbands and swamped them out. This is in the 1920’s, when people really didn’t think about this…let alone do it. So, my smartassiness is hereditary and genetic.
ISP: The Mormons did a whole lot of that.
GL: The men did. They initiated that. Not the women. Just like “nice girls” — 26 years ago — never got into porn. In the early 80’s there was really no such thing as DVD/VCR/video. It was out there, but it was really expensive for consumers to buy a VCR. So everything was still shot on film. The girls who made films weren’t your “girls next store”, either. Maybe your girl on the corner. Of course there were exceptions: Seka and Marilyn Chambers and Vanessa Del Rio. My point is that I have a pre-disposition to go again the norm…as did my father, my grandfather…my great-grandfather.
ISP: Your first dirty movie?
GL: First movie I was cast in was Surrender in Paradise shot in conjunction with a little bit of hanky-panky. I agreed to do these films having never fucked in front of a camera before. I signed the contract, made the deal, and then got scared! I called my agent and said, “I don’t know if I can do this.” He said, “I think you need to do an 8mm Mike Carpenter shoot. No sound. It will only be seen in .25 cent video arcades. I was paid $200 to do two scenes. I walked on to the set in an apartment in Santa Monica, vomited in my mouth — then swallowed it — in order to maintain some sort of professionalism. But then, I realized if I could fuck this fat, smelly, hairy, old disgusting man I could fuck anybody. Fortunately for me my first position was doggy, and luckily Ron Jereny’s dick was big enough to satisfy me…as long as I didn’t have to look at him. I finished the scene, saw Tommy Byron walk in — in all his scrawny, skinny glory — and knew I was at home.
ISP: This rules. I love the history of this biz.
GL: I then flew to Kauai, Hawaii, did my first “official scene” on film with Jerry Butler, wearing my red prom dress. I have pictures of me, at my senior prom, in the dress…and then later, in that same dress, having my first orgasm on camera. Obviously fucking on film wasn’t a problem. It was a pleasure. Dialogue, on the other hand, was a whole different story. After completing my first official sex scene on camera, I was asked to jog along a dirt path while Jerry Butler rode along side me, yelling obscenities. I was supposed to respond to it, and if laughter was the correct response, I would have been doing my job. Every time I looked at the guy running alongside me, I’d just start laughing. We did this for four hours. I couldn’t say my line! We finally shut down the set. Later that night Jerry Butler came to my condo and asked me a bunch pf personal questions: my family, what it was like growing up in Illinois, that sort of thing. I thought we were having a moment, until Jerry threw me down on the bed, began to rip my clothes off, and began to disgrace my family…everything he asked me he turned into something ugly. I fought back. He stood up backed away. Jerry threw my script at me and said, “now do your dialogue!” I never had a dialogue problem after that. It was the best acting lesson I’ve ever had.
ISP: So what happens with you and Jerry after?
GL: Jerry and I fall in lust. He asked me to marry him. He carves our name in a tree. He makes me a necklace out of sea shells and fishing wire, We’re in love. The next day he tells me the make-up artist, who hates me, wants to habe a three way. I decide I’m gonna ask the make-up artist, so I do…and she says, “what!? Jerry told me you wanted the three way…and you hated me!”
ISP: I always hated Jerry Butler as male talent. If I rented a video and he was in it, I just hit FF.
GL: Jerry’s Jerry. Anyways…the make-up artist and I decide to grant Jerry’s wish. We all three go back to my condo, we tie Jerry to the bed, and the make0up artist and I make love in front him…and then we leave to have dinner. We left Jerry there, and no one found him til the next day. She and I became best friends…and Jerry and I broke up.
ISP: Tell us something about John Holmes no one knows.
GL: Ummm…I’m sure someone knows this, but John had a sweet, loving kind generous side to him. It’s the only side I ever saw. I agreed to fuck John and was very excited. Once again I didn’t think it through…so I flew to San Francisco, talked to the make-up artist (cause they always know all the dirt) and told her “I don’t think I can take that. It’s bigger than my arm!” So make-up lady tells me to come with her…puts me in the closet. A few minutes later the door opens, and it’s the make-up artist and Amber Lynn. Amber comes in to the closet. A couple minutes later, it’s the make-up artist and she’s leading John Holmes by the penis. Puts him in the closet, tells Amber and I to get on our knees, then she gets on her knees, and the three us of sucked him off til he came. And then I wasn’t scared no more! But I lie…cause now the cock we all sucked was going to have to go into my tiny little pussy. Bigger than my arm. Not gonna fit. I mention this to the director, who has a brain storm. His thought is to hang two chains and a bar on the ceiling and lower me on to John’s penis…that was the only way I would be able to handle it. John had a rep for not being able to get it all the way hard. As they lowered me on to his penis, my pussy opened up like The Pink Sea, and John’s cock got fully hard…and it slipped right in. And, according to Laura Holmes, her and I were the only two girls to ever get him fully hard.
ISP: How did one get into the porno game back in the day?
GL: Move to California from Illinois. Loser boyfriend with a big car payment followed. Couldn’t make ends meet. Answered an ad in the paper for “Stripping at Bachelor Parties”. Once again, didn’t think it through…got to my first “bachelor party” and got scared and left. I ran out. The party followed me out and they beat up my boyfriend. So I went back to the paper and answered an ad for “figure modeling — $500 to $5000 a day.” I posed for Penthouse the next day. I modeled for three months before I went to that apartment in Santa Monica.
ISP: I’m gonna toss some names out there. Just react. Peter North is the first.
GL: I loved working with Peter North. He’s a good fuck, but he hated when people touched his hair…so I’d be fucking him, and get him all hot and bothered…and then I’d fuck with his hair.
ISP: Tom Byron.
GL: He was like my big brother…only we fucked.
ISP: Traci Lords.
GL: Hope the bitch’s tits rot and fall off. She’s a back-stabbing, two-faced cunt and a whore. Now, do you want me to tell you how I really feel?
ISP: Christy Canyon.
GL: Christy’s Christy. I was the first girl who ever licked her pussy, and I put Rachel Perry Cosmetics on the map. Her lip gloss / lip balm, actually. My advice to girls who’ve never licked pussy before, back in the 80’s, was to put Rachel Perry’s lip balm on the pussy lips because it’s hard to lick off. Most girls licking pussy for the first time aren’t really gonna get down there and eat it…so this was how I taught them to lick pussy.
ISP: Nina Hartley.
GL: I’ve known Nina for 26 years, been a lot of movies with her…in the same scenes in 6 different movies, and somehow never was cast to have sex with Nina…and we didn’t have sex until six months ago. When Ginger Met Nina…Triangle Films.
ISP: Where’s this biz headed?
GL: To hell. And back again. Never mind…we’re already been there. And if Ron Jeremy will retire and Traci Lords will drop dead, then we’ll be back where we belong.
When Your Toothbrush Does It.
My First Music Video!
The Pope Goes To Alaska.
The man was screaming and struggling frantically, thrashing all about and trying to free himself from the grasp of a 10-foot grizzly bear. As the Pope watched in horror, a group of Republican loggers wearing “Go Sarah” shirts came racing up.
One logger quickly fired a 44 magnum slug right into the bear’s chest.
The two other men pulled the semiconscious Democrat from the bear’s grasp.
Then using baseball bats, the three loggers finished off the bear. Two of the men dragged the dead grizzly onto the bed of their pickup truck. The other tenderly placed the injured Democrat in the back seat.
As they began to leave, the Pope summoned all of the men over to him.
“I give you my blessing for your brave actions!” he proudly proclaimed. “I have heard there was bitter hatred between Republican loggers and Democratic environmental activists, but now I’ve seen with my own eyes that this is not true.”
As the Pope drove off, one logger asked his buddies, “Who the heck was that guy?”
“Dude, that was the Pope,” another replied. “He’s in direct contact with Heaven and has access to all wisdom.”
“Well,” the logger said, “he may have access to all wisdom, but he doesn’t know squat about bear hunting…by the way, is the bait still alive or do we need to go back to Massachusetts and get another one?”