Ah — I’m back! To my delight I’ve returned to two interviews (of me) up and live, one at Adult Friend Finder and the other at Cleis Press. I’m also in the October issue of Oprah’s O Magazine, and I found out that I’ll be signing books at the Exotic Erotic Ball in a couple weeks. Funny that — the last and only time I was at Exotic Erotic was when I snuck in with the Extra Action Marching Band in a Batgirl costume (carry a horn and act stoned). I got drunk and stole a wheelchair; band members took turns riding in it and giving/getting lap dances, we painted unibrows on all the guys. The band did their entire set in the men’s bathroom, and when the rubber chickens filled with blood came out, all bets were off and I found myself thrown out of Exotic Erotic around four in the morning with a bunch of very fucked up half-naked and bloody musicians. One of the other highlights was running into Robert and Carol, who snuck me backstage to Nina Hartley’s dressing room where we drank crappy margaritas and watched Nina fondle and undress her entourage. My souvenirs of the night were two disposable cameras that I found on the dance floor; the photos were of pasty suburbanites “stepping out” with limos and champagne and bad stripper wear. I plan on hunting for cameras again this year.
I am refreshed from an incredible week in Belize, spent completely ignoring my birthday and away from phones, computers and cars (the only way to get around was by boat). Photos are forthcoming; right now I’m wending my way through 274 new emails. I’ve never been to Central America before, nor seen jungles, Mayan ruins or a Barrier Reef. I saw monkeys (baby monkeys!), toucans, and crocs; snorkeled around big sea turtles, dolphins, nurse sharks (they have tough skin) and got pushed around by nosy manta rays (they’re smooth and silky). I also drank from coconuts right off the tree. We arrived just in time for their national Independence Day celebration, which was entirely eye opening — they are a young country who is proud of their heritage and eager to embrace their future while preserving their natural resources (most of the country is a reserve or preserve of some kind, and they plan on making this their country’s backbone). Snorkeling is done everywhere; I found out that I’m an exceptionally strong swimmer (so if I die from drowning, suspect foul play) and I found out more of what I already know in that I am like a delicious mobile snack bar for mosquitoes. I am, in fact, like a yummy cheeseburger for these awful pests. They bit me on the soles of my feet, argh. And it was cheap, cheap, cheap, with $2 BZE to the dollar. It was my first vacation in several years — I had no idea how to fill out the paperwork at Good Vibes, or what to do with it.
Oh, and a Dirty Banana is a drink comprised of a blended banana, ice, Kailua, Irish cream and vodka. And it’s Hornboy’s new nickname.
Big Gay Al was our hotel’s activities coordinator — seriously! There were quite a few lesbian couples about and a few gay male tourists, though homosexuality is still illegal there (Al told us over many cocktails that he goes to Cuba for action). I mention this because the American tourists all around us (with a few cool exceptions) were shockingly bigoted in all number of ways. For instance, one couple in the swimming pool:
She: I heard they filmed Temptation Island here.
He: I never watched that show. Just a bunch a women whorin’ themselves out.
What winners, eh? Hornboy and I were determined to avoid friendly conversation with human chum such as these, so I started a little game of Invented Occupations. The idea is to come up with a daily job that is so vile, freaky or gross that no one wants to talk to you anymore. So for instance, when someone asked what I did for a living, I would reply, “Horse inseminator. It’s pretty good money. The secret is long gloves. It’s just like milking a cow.” The more convincing you are, the more points you score. I made Hornboy a “Feminine hygiene products odor tester. Mostly Massengil.” He added, brilliantly, for the kill, “It’s alright, but some times we have to test old ladies. We advertise in the papers.” Another winner was “Adult diaper tester.” I wanted to add that it’s tough to shit your pants standing up, but I knew I would break down on the spot. My favorite IO was for the drunk Christian at the bar who wouldn’t shut up to the newlywed husbands about Jesus, the Mel Gibson movie, and how they need to be “the masters of their house.” Listening in for a while I realized that he was full of shit and lied about his age, told people different stories about his “fortune” and then argued with the bartender about his tab. I gleaned that he was from Florida. My job? “Fraud investigator, federal division, Dade County. I’m here for business and pleasure, never off the clock, you know!”
But Big Gay Al knew what I really do for a living, and we bonded fiercely. He’ll be getting a naughty care package soon!
My next entry will be about my grand birthday spanking. I’ll close now with the computer of the future, 2004 imagined in the 1950s. Also, things I loved on vacation: The Daily Show book on my iPod, Carl Hiaasen’s Strip Tease, Dan Brown’s Deception Point, Emma Donoghue’s Slammerkin and A.M. Holmes’ Things You Should Know.
