I’m going to continue to subject you to more of Pride weekend because these movies from Glen Bachmann of the amazing scene in the alley of the Extra Action Marching Band playing vs. the Cal Aggies (where you can see how naked and drunk and oversexed Extra Action was, and how peppy and cute the Cal Aggies were) are really terrific. Here’s a picture, too.
My weekend was a mix of frustration and satisfying explosions. I’m under contract for four more books right now, and two are due in a couple of months, so I spent a good part of the weekend squeezing out chapters and editing stories. Lemme tell ya, I pretty much would rather pull out my eye teeth than write about masturbation ever ever again — it’s important to include in every book, because our annoying culture doesn’t think it’s okay to jerk off. Arcades and porn use are seen as shameful, while still only 40% of women masturbate, it’s all agonizing — but being a writer and keeping the same material fresh and new is a challenge. Granted, I’m definitely doing my part to make up for the other 60% of women who don’t masturbate. Still, I’m living in fear and dread of next year’s Masturbation Month, when my fiery passion for postulating praise about pounding your pudenda will surely be puddles of anticlimactic puke.
Friday I got out to watch fireworks down at the docks by Pier 39, though well away from the tourists at a friend’s machine shop. I met up with a bunch of SRL crew late, and we might’ve done some naughty fireworks enjoyment on our own, or maybe we saw someone else doing it. Mark Pauline is getting married, and he asked me that night to be his best woman — which is really a big deal, and I’m rather stunned and honored. Can’t tell if it makes me feel grown up, or like a kid. Maybe both. Standing around, amidst the smoke and explosions, someone asked me how Good Vibes was reacting to the sodomy ruling, and I of course replied, "Oh, we’re embracing it." Which made me realize that the right to plunder booty had not at all been discussed here on the Tiny Log, which is funny since I’m such a big fan of sodomy. I mean, I love anal everything, from the extremes of Buttman Magazine all the way to the tiniest plugs. I like to sodomize women and men alike, and I’ve even been known to sodomize myself. Though the media would have you think that only gay men are sodomites, it’s a misnomer from the American media which only likes to fixate on gay male anal sex, leaving out all us kinky bi chicks who love straight boys that like us to wield our strap-ons with style, glamour and menace. What about the Canadians, I wonder? In fact I often wonder about the Canadians, but are they safe from sodomy? I considered making some extra money by smuggling straight American guys to Canada, saving their behinds as it were, and I think I can fit three in my trunk, but if they touch each other it’s all a wash. And what if you’re half-Canadian and half American? I guess the American half is the back half.
PETA — no not People Eatin’ Them Animals, it’s that PETA, the ones that throw fake blood on Joan Rivers and tell her to stop wearing lizard skin even though she’s in a spandex bikini — is having a sexy vegetarians contest. Which I think is pretty cool, since I’m almost a vegetarian, and if you go to their web site you can vote for your favorite sexy vegetable-murdering celebrity. It’s mostly entertaining to see who’s a veggie, and though the obvious pleather-pushin’ winner will be Pam Anderson, no animal products on her, inside or out, I think the winner should be adult star Serenity. Hot little all-natural number Serenity is yummy yummy goodness, and I bet she tastes great, being a veggie and all.
New sex term I heard this weekend: Diesel Dick. No, not a hard-on while shopping in the Diesel store, a blowjob in their dressing room, or snipey staff. It’s a noun, a term for the involuntary hard-ons truckers get from the constant vibration of the truck cab. Immediately squashed by the trucker speed, I’ll assume.
