Super Fun E-mails

Super Fun E-mails: (on the cuckold phenomena).

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Spring Thomas cuckold

Rufus writes:

You’re an interesting guy with an edgy & exciting profession. My background is in psych. I’m an observer of the interracial phenomena & I’ll be doing work in this area. I’d like to compliment you on your shooting style. You frame the female body well & pay extra attention to their best features. Some of your dialogue with the performers is good – i realize it can’t be too scripted & that some performers are too wasted or lacking. Some of what you encourage really winds down @ my avenue of study. Obviously the “Once you go black” has hit the mark in the jealousy factor with white males. The comments from the girls on the Black Man’s size presses the penis-envy button. The girls who can slyly smile & sell it to the camera are worth their weight in gold I’d imagine.

The cuckold phenomena when combined with the social psychology of the interracial dynamic has to be a winner. Obviously if it wasn’t, you wouldn’t shoot it. It must be difficult to find straight male actors to be the cuckolds – because of the stigma of their prevailing sexual roles as norm. My research shows that visibly feminine males as cuckolds aren’t a turnon to most white & black men & the higher percentage of women. When the cuckold is coerced, particularly by a more dominant female, a “wimpy” cuckold is more acceptable as realistic. If you can combine a fear factor* with the humiliation, you might push the envelope a bit further. Humiliating her boyfriend by laughing @ the Black Man’s jokes or siding with him in his wishes hits the mark (The Cum Eating Cuckolds series does this well, especially Lei Lani, Lorena Sanchez, Chelsie Rae & Samantha Sin) A suggestion for the cuckold’s impact – rather than him cumming on himself or the girl, have the girl make him jerk into the toilet (or a rubber). This will further distance the connection from the white male to the white female. If she pisses on his cum, sprays disinfectant on it etc, she will visually represent her disdain for the white seed while offering acceptance of Black potence.

One particular dialogue you shot had approached the fear factor with Barbie Cummings. The pro- Black Panther, kill off the white man theme is a step up from the “superior” baby concept, as good as that is. She was doing ICE (who many are regarding as the next Mandingo) – reinforcing the superior, mocking the inferior, championing the “natural selection” while opening up the greatest unspoken fear of your target market. If you could find the right avenue to exploit this category, it colud be the “bomb”. What was your feedback from members like on that one ? Too contraversial ?

The Spring / Katie sites are good for what they are – although you’d found a realistic cuckold boyfriend scenario with Spring – this could really be marketed to young females. I don’t know what % of your customers are female, but that approach could be tweaked to expand your viewing base. I could go on but that might be too much for a first contact. Reply if you’re able & keep up the great work …

Summary Of Billy’s Best Work

Best cumshot position – side by side – both the girls face & the ejaculation are featured …
Best internal position – reverse cowgirl – tight shot on Black Male’s testicles & vein (providing that they flex & pulse) (Brandi Lyons)
Best cuckold scene – Aiden Layne or Spring Thomas (museum)
Best conversion Trinity Post ???
Best wad – Ice Cold (Katie Thomas)
Best prayer – Haley Scott – this opens up a whole new front to play with …
———————————————————–

Rufus!

My main most man — and biggest fan. Thanks for the praise, and can I just say one thing?

Um…maybe you’re taking this a little too seriously?

Your pal — Billy

Spring Thomas cuckold

Nothing To Do With Porn, random raves, Random Thoughts, What I'm Listenting To Lately

NME names the Top 100.

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Reaction to NME top 100 list

I love lists.

I think I’ve mentioned this before. When I was a kid, and we’d go on family trips to Florida, I’d lay in the back of my dad’s van and read Wallace and Wallechinsky’s The Book of Lists. It’s funny, cause looking back, I realize reading that book was my earliest exercise in critical thinking. It was more than just flipping through weird lists of odd things. For me, it was wondering: why do people hate Nixon more than Hitler? What are the 10 words you can’t pronounce correctly? And can I pronounce them? Which world leaders were assassinated…and why? And why in the world does it take an elephant so long to have a baby, when it only takes a possum a few weeks to do it?

I was entertained for hours.

And when I was bored with the book, I’d beat my little sister up. Or sit on her face and fart.

Before they went out of business, Tower Records published a totally worthless magazine, but I always picked it up, cause the first few pages featured “Desert Island Discs”, which were nothing more than readers’ top 10 records they had to have if they were stuck on a deserted island. Silly, of course, cause a deserted island would never have a stereo system — let alone an electrical outlet for your record player — but the reader lists made for some might fun reading.

And, for me, the lists always boiled down to a reaction that went something like this: what a dumb ass! He ranked Tusk higher than The White Album!! Fucking faggot!!!

In 1987, Rolling Stone made their first top 100 ever list, and I remember Sgt. Peppers being #1, and Never Mind The Bollocks being #2, and that made sense to me…then they fucked almost everything up.

That Rolling Stone issue also had the famous photograph Bob Gruen snapped of The Pistols…the one where they were ticking straws in their ears at the diner table. Or maybe it was John Rotten sticking his straw into Sid’s ear. (I had to look at that picture one more time to remember it correctly, cause it’s been about that long since I last saw it…and guess what! You can buy a copy!)

Just recently NME published their top 100, and it’s simply god awful. And if you thought NME’s was bad, get a load of this.

Both are bad…to a degree, of course.

Cause lists like this are published to do nothing more than make you read them and think things like what a dumb ass! They ranked an Oasis record higher than Sgt. Peppers! Fucking faggots!! And where’s Jim Hendrix?! And there’s two Oasis records on their top 10?! The Stone Roses?! Are you kidding me? Meatloaf is #25?! Mike Oldfield before Bob Dylan?! The Velvets are where!? Shania Twain!? NO RAMONES!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!

Before I give you NME’s list, I’ll give you mine, and I’ll expect yours when you comment on all this mess. All this mess will, of course, include my list. And while I’m at it, a few words on my list:

1. It changes all the time. Sometimes daily, sometimes monthly.

2. I have different lists for different occasions.
a) A list to try and impress a girl.
b) A list to piss off music snobs.
c) A list to piss off a drunk.
d) A “real” list, in which I employ a certain criterion to judge all art I choose to judge…which is to say everyone has an opinion on anything any artist creates, and the only sure-fire way to accurately judge something beyond your own tastes is to judge it on how said piece of art has influenced other great artists working within a particular field…which is to say Robert Johnson should be in a pop music top 10 list, just as Marcel Duchamp needs to be on everyone’s favorite artist’s list, as Andy Kaufman needs to be everyone’s top 10 comedian…right?

With that said, here’s my top 10 best records ever, as of right now, which is to say 10 am on Tuesday morning, July 29, as I sit in my little brother’s front room in Arizona, stressing over the amount of work I still have to do in order to get the rest of my shit to Los Angeles…and finally, this as a “D” list:

1. The Velvet Underground: The Velvet Underground and Nico.
2. The Stooges: Raw Power.
3. The Beatles: Revolver.
4. Miles Davis: Kind of Blue.
5. The Sex Pistols: Never Mind The Bullocks.
6. Meat Puppets: II.
7. Big Star: Big Star.
8. Van Morrison: Astral Weeks.
9. Nirvana: Nevermind.
10. Liz Phair: Exile in Guyville.

And here’s NME’s:

1. Oasis: Definitely Maybe 1994
2. The Beatles: The Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band 1967
3. The Beatles: The Revolver 1966
4. Radiohead: OK Computer 1997
5. Oasis: (What’s The Story) Morning Glory? 1995
6. Nirvana: Nevermind 1991
7. The Stone Roses: The Stone Roses 1989
8. Pink Floyd: Dark Side Of The Moon 1973
9. The Smiths: The The Queen Is Dead 1986
10. Radiohead: The Bends 1995
11. U2: The Joshua Tree 1987
12. The Clash: The London Calling 1979
13. The Beatles: The The Beatles (White Album) 1968
14. The Beatles: The Abbey Road 1969
15. Libertines: The Up The Bracket 2002
16. The Sex Pistols: The Never Mind The Bollocks 1977
17. Led Zeppelin: Led Zeppelin IV 1971
18. David Bowie: The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust 1972
19. Queen: A Night At The Opera 1975
20. The Strokes: The Is This It 2001
21. The Killers: The Hot Fuss 2004
22. The Beach Boys: The Pet Sounds 1966
23. Jeff Buckley: Grace 1994
24. Manic Street Preachers: The Holy Bible 1994
25. Meat Loaf: Bat Out Of Hell 1977
26. Guns N’ Roses: Appetite For Destruction 1987
27. Kaiser Chiefs: Employment 2005
28. The Beatles: The Rubber Soul 1965
29. Fleetwood Mac: Rumours 1977
30. The Libertines: The Libertines 2004
31. Verve: The Urban Hymns 1997
32. Green Day: American Idiot 2004
33. Coldplay: A Rush Of Blood To The Head 2002
34. Blur: Parklife 1994
35. Michael Jackson: Thriller 1982
36. Pink Floyd: The Wall 1979
37: R.E.M.: Automatic For The People 1992
38. Franz Ferdinand: Franz Ferdinand 2004
39. Mike Oldfield: Tubular Bells 1973
40. U2: Achtung Baby 1991
41. Pink Floyd: Wish You Were Here 1975
42. Rolling Stones: The Exile On Main Street 1972
43. Simon & Garfunkel: Bridge Over Troubled Water 1970
44. Led Zeppelin: Led Zeppelin II 1969
45. Blondie: Parallel Lines 1978
46. Dire Straits: Brothers In Arms 1985
47. Bob Dylan: Blood On The Tracks 1975
48. David Bowie: Hunky Dory 1971
49. Coldplay: X&Y 2005
50. The Who: Who’s Next 1971
51. Keane: Hopes And Fears 2004
52. Coldplay: Parachutes 2000
53. Abba: Arrival 1976
54. Pulp: Different Class 1995
55. The Velvet Underground: The Velvet Underground + Nico 1967
56. Love: Forever Changes 1967
57. Marvin Gaye: What’s Going On 1971
58. The Rolling Stones: The Let It Bleed 1969
59. The White Stripes: The Elephant 2003
60. The Pixies: Doolittle 1989
61. Muse: Absolution 2003
62. Elton John: Goodbye Yellow Brick Road 1973
63. Queen: Sheer Heart Attack 1974
64. Shania Twain: Come On Over 1997
65. Prince: Sign O’ The Times 1987
66. Pearl Jam: Ten 1991
67. Kasabian: Kasabian 2004
68. Green Day: Dookie 1994
69. Muse: Origin Of Symmetry 2001
70. Kate Bush: Hounds Of Love 1985
71. Bob Dylan: Blonde On Blonde 1966
72. The Jam: All Mod Cons 1978
73. Joni Mitchell: Blue 1971
74. The White Stripes: White Blood Cells 2001
75. Suede: Dog Man Star 1994
76. Metallica: Metallica (Black Album) 1991
77. Human League: Dare! 1981
78. Joy Division: Closer 1980
79. Nirvana: In Utero 1993
80. AC/DC: Back In Black 1980
81. Arcade Fire: Funeral 2004
82. Razorlight: Up All Night 2004
83. Madonna: Ray Of Light 1998
84. Bruce Springsteen: Born To Run 1975
85. Led Zeppelin: Physical Graffiti 1975
86. Arctic Monkeys: Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not 2006
87. Queen: A Day At The Races 1976
88. ABC: The Lexicon Of Love 1982
89. Spice Girls: Spice 1996
90. Depeche Mode: Violator 1990
91. Snow Patrol: Final Straw 2004
92. T. Rex: Electric Warrior 1971
93. Alanis Morissette: Jagged Little Pill 1991
94. Joy Division: Unknown Pleasures 1979
95. Radiohead: Kid A 2000
96. Electric Light Orchestra: Out Of The Blue 1977
97. The Smiths: The Smiths 1984
98. Jimi Hendrix: Electric Ladyland 1968
99. Rage Against the Machine: Rage Against The Machine 1992
100. The Eagles: Hotel California 1976

Sex Pistols with straws

Here's the Skinny on Your Favorite Star

Chayse Evans, Once More.

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Chayse Evans

Since I’ve interviewed her once, and posted a silly picture of her (with an accompanying haiku), why not blog her?

Get an eyeful of Chayse Evans.

To me, the definition of Woman. I mean really…look at her. Those tits. That ass. The curves. Oh, my. Let me add: there’s not a drop of silicone or saline anywhere in her body.

I wanna talk about the day I shot her for Spunkmouth; it was a shoot that went down a week (or so) before I brought her back for Blacks on Blondes…and I brought her back mainly cause I think she’s someone to talk about, and, if I thought it to be a prudent and wise move, I’d do whatever it would take to make her my girlfriend.

At least for an hour or three.

I met Chayse Evans last month. She showed up with Emma Hart, who I had booked for a double Manojob with a couple mopes who were unloading a truck full of lumber for my new studio. I mean what better payment for some light, easy labor than a quick handie till you blow yer load…right? Oh sure, I paid them their hourly rate, but making sure my employees are taken care of is just one of the ways I roll.

I roll hard. And fast.

Most of the time, anyway.

Well, honesty…I rarely roll, and if I do, it’s seldom hard…nor fast.

Anyways, I’ve got Chayse on set for Spunkmouth, and she’s just past the 3 minute mark, which is usually the amount of time I allow for intros and masturbation — in other words, the boring shit.

Stunt cock steps up to the plate, and guess what? In less time then it takes to stick a finger up your butt, The Stunt Cock blows his load.

A mighty load.

Problem was, instead of aiming it at the girl’s mouth (hence the name, Spunkmouth), Stunt Cock does the whole squeeze-the-head-of-my-wee-wee-so-no-jizz-pops technique.

It’s a silly technique that seldom works, and it didn’t this time, either.

It looked like a cum bomb went off in the palm of his hand. And I caught the whole thing on tape. If you don’t believe me, log in to Spunkmouth and check the video.

Now what? We’re 3 1/2 minutes into a 15 minute BJ scene, and Stunt Cock has blown his wad. There’s no one around with a valid AIM test…except me.

Did I mention what I think my definition of a woman is? Or, if I could make Chayse my short-term GF, I would? (Short term, mind you…)

Did I mention those tits?

That ass?

Those curves?

Get an eyeful of Chayse Evans!

The next thing I know, I’m shouting at my PA to grab The Sybian, and Chayse is pulling my pants down, and it’s time for Billy Watson to turn into Stunt Cock.

That’s Mister Stunt Cock to you, my friend.

I don’t like this. Honestly. Not one bit. Oh! The sacrifices I make for my job!

There’s some part-time relief while she’s sitting on The Sybian, and cumming until she’s squirting all over the place, and the original Stunt Cock managed to get his shit together enough to come back on set and drop a second load…this time on target.

Then I followed suit.

I’m such a dirty man.

After the scene, suddenly things got better. As in I didn’t feel like swallowing a bottle full of Prozac, and living in LA might not be so bad after all, and I didn’t mind losing that partner-in-crime, too.

Oh! The things a simple BJ can sure!

Or, more specifically, the things Chayse Evans can cure.

Chayse Evans

Super Fun IM's

Super Fun IMs: “They’re Coming To Get You, Barbie!”

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Gloryhole Barbie Cummings

[I’m starting to get IM’s from myYahoo! messenger, when I have it turned on. If you wanna IM me, be my guest. Getting IM’s is one of the highlights of my day; however, don’t take it personally if I don’t get a chance to IM back…but I’ll try. Promise.]

breveets75 IMs:

I am to lazy to read your blog most of the time so I listen to it. I copy the text into this voice editing program I have and it plays back your blog in a female voice. It is sort of like the Steven Hawkings thing or Mircosoft Sam voice. But the one I use is named Jennifer.

Any the last post I read was Super Fun E-Mails: “Meatpuppets and Mopes and Woodsmen and Cocksmiths” and I get what you are saying in the blog, basically pornstar are just like the rest of us poor smoes who aren’t fucking in front of a camera. I work a job where I am on call 24-7 you know what I rather be doing, fuckin. Does that make me a bad person? Nope.

I think about fucking 90% of my day. I spent about half an hour today at work trying to get the box set of Caligula that some one had drop between a wall and some piping.

Why cuz, I want to see fucking. They got some gay shit in that movie to but No Way Am I Gay. There is the one chick that give some fire head in that movie. I set the DVD player to the A-B repeat mode and watch it over

I don’t know if I could be a pornstar. I wonder it I have to drink alot of fluid to pulll off a Peter North Blast

Night of the Living Dead is the Shiznt. “There coming to get you Barbara”.

Another spoof comes to mind. “There coming to fuck you Barbie” She runs in the a building. The building is the GloryHole building. She tries to board up all the hole but…..They want brains, alright. Remember the old radio message on Night of the Living Dead. In the spoof it would be like “This just in the Dead and actually fucking the hell out of the living, I repeat the dead are fucking the hell out of the living. Stay in doors”.

Random Thoughts

Porno Interview #46 — Chayse Evans

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Chayse Evans

I Shoot Porn: So tell everyone how old you are and where you’re from.

Chayse Evans: I’m 21 and I’m from Pennsylvania and Baltimore.

ISP: Did you know John Waters is from Baltimore?

CE: I don’t even know who he is.

ISP: John Waters made one of the greatest movies ever — Pink Flamingos. Oh, and Female Trouble. How could I forget that one?

CE: I haven’t seen either.

ISP: You should. What did you want to be when you were growing up?

CE: A ballerina. Or an assassin.

ISP: Do you have it in you to kill someone?

CE: I probably do…if I knew I wouldn’t get caught.

ISP: Who would you want to kill?

CE: My cousin. She slept with my ex-boyfriend. I was still in love with him. (She starts looking for something.) I want my sandwich. Where did I put it? (And then she finds it.)

ISP: What kind of yummy sandwich is that?

CE: A ham and cheese croissant.

ISP: If I was at your house right now and looked in your fridge, what would I find?

CE: I have a very huge, cheap bottle of red wine. The kind with a screw-on cap. Four bottles of water. Some Lean Cuisine Pannini sandwiches. They come in all sorts of flavors! Some herb butter, and that’s about it, dude! I love to eat!!

ISP: If I took you out to dinner, where would we go?

CE: Sushi. It’s my favorite food.

ISP: Funny thing about porn girls is they all love sushi. What’s up with that?

CE: Maybe there’s some sort of aphrodisiac in sushi.

ISP: Are you always horny?

CE: If I don’t work, I start having the shakes. I go through dick withdrawal.

ISP: Please elaborate.

CE: I have to inject my medicine in me.

ISP: Please elaborate.

CE: Penetration is the only treatment.

ISP: Once penetrated, how do you feel?

CE: Nirvana. Absolute state of Zen.

ISP: Did you like Nirvana?

CE: Yea, I like that song (and she starts singing):

My girl, my girl, don’t lie to me,
Tell me where did you sleep last night.
In the pines, in the pines,
Where the sun don’t ever shine.
I would shiver the whole night through.

ISP: Hey, you can sing!

CE: Wanna hear some Stevie Ray Vaughn?

(Since I don’t know any Stevie Ray songs, I have no idea what she’s singing, but she’s fucking good, and now I have a boner, cause girls who can sing have that kind of an effect on me.)

ISP: Have you always been a singer?

CE: Yea, I used to sing (and then Chayse goes right into song again) When the moon hits the sky like a big pizza pie… to my mom and she would always go, LOUDER! LOUDER!

(This is where my make-up artist chimes in.)

The Make-up Artist: That’s my secret fantasy. To be a singer.

CE: My secret fantasy is to be a Princess from a foreign country. Maybe from (and she puts on a funny accent) Transylvania. I wanna be a Princess or a Vampire. I think they’re both really cool.

ISP: My secret fantasy is to be a lead guitarist. So how did you get into porn?

CE: I was a marine, and then I was a stripper, and now I’m a porn star. Before all that I was a waitress.

ISP: It’s funny how marines turn into porn stars. I know a lot of them.

CE: You know what we do? We get drunk and then we fuck people. And we’re cocky about it, cause we’re marines, and we like to show everyone what we can do.

ISP: Gotta myspace?

CE: I sure do! And I want everyone to be my friend!

ISP: Funny, me too. Everyone loves to be loved. So what’s the dumbest thing a director’s ever asked you to do?

The Make-up Artist: Get interviewed for this blog.

CE: Wear pig tails for a pig tail scene. I don’t like pig tails. I am not five years old.

ISP: I bet the director wished you were.

CE: You know those dudes producing that shit are closet pedos.

ISP: I agree. What’s something no one’s asked you before?

CE: No one’s really ever asked me what my tattoo means.

ISP: Where is this tat, and what’s it mean?

CE: It’s on my right shoulder, and it’s a snake skin and it represents The Serpent from The Bible that symbolizes original sin. And The Phoenix on my stomach symbolizes rebirth, cause every 500 years they light themselves on fire and then they rise from the ashes.

ISP: I just moved from Phoenix.

CE: The Black Widow on my wrist represents self-honesty. The Black Widow ties all three together. She was born with a natural instinct, cause we’re all born with original sin, to eat her mates. So she’ll always be alone until she learns to fight her natural instincts. So no matter what you do, cause of the innate qualities within each of us…we can always overcome it. Hence, we can rise from our own ashes.

ISP: Wow. That’s some deep shit.

CE: Hard. Hard and deep.

ISP: Which is how you’re about to get fucked for the World’s Greatest, Most Infamous Interracial website, Blacks on Blondes.

CE: Well I better, or I’m gonna be pissed!

Chayse Evans

[Note from Billy: We just wrapped her Blacks on Blondes scene, and I think this should nominate each and every one of us for some sort of an award: Chayse, cause I’ve never seen a girl get pounded likke that; the 5 dudes who gang banged her, cause I’ve never seen a girl get pounded like that; and lil’ ol’ me, cause no matter what any of you silly motherfuckers say, I SHOOT PORN.]

random rants

Oh, Woe to Me!

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I Am Depressed

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.