Oh, my. Have you been reading the comments in the photo album around here lately? Porn stars, sex toy inventors, porno directors, wanton women who want to ride my sex machine… it’s enough to burn a hole in my panties. Panty check.
Okay, still in one piece. Now that I have your attention, take a listen to my latest podcast (MP3 download), where with a (hopefully) adorably stuffy nose, I introduce Thomas Roche and he reads one of his funniest porn pieces ever — Phone Sex, which perfectly describes the torment of wanting to jack off to porn really bad but porn sucks so bad you can’t. Then I read another favorite by Thomas, called Panty Trick — and the mail about it is so positive, I won’t give away the hilarity and outrageousness of the piece, you’ll just have to listen for yourself.
The Bad Porn Fest was a huge success! I was flu-like and hoping for a small crowd, but what I got was a randy, rowdy crowd that filled the seats and were left standing, making it the biggest event the Center for Sex and Culture has seen yet! As a benefit it was a winner, and as a bad porn fest, well… it had people laughing hard enough to shoot beer out their noses, so there you have it. For one hour, I presented Very Bad Porn: the absolute hilariously worst I’ve seen in porn, from "so-bad-it’s-good" to painfully boring blowjobs, socks and sunglasses, and alien porn that is just indescribable. I paused in many spots to explain the evils the audience was about to witness, and lots of people yelled, groaned, and made jokes at the action in all the right places. It was like Mystery Science Theater 3000 with boobs, "pop shots," and beer. A very healing experience for me, all around. I hope to do it again sometime.
But now I’m going to do something I seldom do — stop writing before 10pm. The sun finally came out here in SF, which means that it’s freezing cold, with wind. I took a hot shower, used a bit of my favorite (extremely expensive, used only when I feel like pampering myself) soap, and made some tea. Now I’m going to slip into bed with my freshly washed, shaved and warm self and a vibrator, and I’ll do some reading. I’m excited about the weekend already and want to take it easy — I may be making one of my all-time fantasies come true.
You see, while other girls have fantasies about having a romantic love scene with Brad Pitt (koff!) or winning America’s Top Model, I have another dream… I’ve always wanted to die in a horror movie. A cheesy horror movie. With lots of blood and screaming. And this weekend, the band I’m kind of a groupie slut for (in my mind, anyway), the Extra Action Marching Band, is playing *in* a cheesy horror movie that’s being filmed here in SF. And one of the trumpet players *promised* me at my Bad Porn Fest that he knows the director, and can get me a death scene.
I know, I know… robots, sex writing, artificial intelligence, fetish modeling, and now this. Try not to think about it. Check out this guy who’s building a domestic robot. Peep at the tough babes on SheMuscle. Trump’s a chump — he should grow his own wedding ring. How about these amazing creepy-cool corsets…
