Porn Box Prophecies — 2015

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Each January I look forward to the first box of porn of the new year. January, as you know, is named for the Roman god Janus, the deity of doors, who, like humans this time of year, looks both forward and back. So I derive a quiet comfort and confidence from what the year’s first porn box foretells.

And you can’t spell Janus without anus.

Waiting for me after my Christmas trip were “Teen Brazil #14,” “Italian Transexxual Job #14,” and “Canada T-Girls #3.” Together these series iterations equal 31. Three plus one is four. My penis is four inches longer than the national average (well, of Japan).

I wrote this poem in a sweatlodge on the grounds of my poly community. TRIGGER WARNING: It involves patriarchal rhyme schemes traditionally used by white men.

Some people look up to the stars
Or practice divination
Some sift through tea leaves, seeking clues
For every situation

To predict the future, they
Build shrines and sacred altars
But I unpack a box of porn
Its wisdom never falters

I can tell the future
With Oracular precision
From who will shortly be a MILF
To M-to-F transition

This box of nuts and cellophane
The (w)hole of porndom augurs
And I can read it like a champ
Alone among porn bloggers

I’ll tell you who is gay for pay
And never am misguided
Whose tits are real? Whose vag is plump?
How might it feel inside it?

These parcels packed with DVDs
Are data to be gathered
Like creampies eaten from an ass
And on a spinner slathered

So look to me for counsel
However grand or base
I always know what’s coming
(Most likely on her face.)

Third World Media-gram-ponante

This box from the dynamic and enterprising Third World Media might be telling us that there are twice as many trannies than Brazilian teens awaiting us in 2015, but that is a Dionne Warwick-level prediction.

Instead, what this box for me bodes is that we will start to see more porn from different countries (Canada and Italy is not known for its porn, but maybe it should be) and that, like Brazilian teens, it will be a little fleshier.

I will endeavor to expose you to more porn from exotic places and from women who pack more back.

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Furthermore, body types we don’t normally encounter in porn will arrive on our smeared little screens in greater numbers. I applaud that. The Jesse Jane model of eight particularly overpumped parts on a lollipop stick-thin figure certainly is sexy when arranged, “Alien” facehugger-like, on one’s cock and balls, but there’s room for so much more.

Happy 2015! Heed my predictions and live.

2014: Why Nudity Matters

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Raven Rockette rims the tub

By 2014, technology had advanced to the point that one could visit a porn website simply to see the pictures and not need words to describe what was scrolling past. As America’s Beloved Porn Journalist, I briefly worried that I might be out of a job, because no longer did people require my insightful commentary on the Kampyle of Eudoxus curve of an A-cup boobie, what had been squirted on the floor, or the thing I encountered in the elevator. Now they could just see it. Luckily I was trained to use an iPhone and was, as we say in Porn Valley, vertically integrated.

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On set with Dani Daniels and Raven Rockette in Scarlett Revell’s “Girl Perversions”

Yes, friends, the images on this page were captured entirely by an iPhone 5c. I used to be the guy with the big Nikon and the 70mm lens, looking down my nose at the sweating jerks taking snaps with their phones, until Cytherea squirted on my camera and I was like Fuck It. Plus, I figured, Rape Culture being what it is, I wanted a device that respected the line of the taut contours of the standard pornstress rib cage and thigh, rather than something shoved, penetrative and trigger warning-free, into her pinkening grotto.

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Veruca James, Reseda

Here is a bicoastal selection of 50 or so photos capturing Porn As It Was in 2014: its conventions, its film shoots, its private moments, and public interactions. Will you become a better person for scrolling through, marveling at the heaving nature of everything on Alexis Texas, wishing you had been perched in the sink with me in Las Vegas, wondering if you could still clone John Holmes off some part of Veronica Hart? Yes, you will.

Whorin’ Over California: A Chat with the Creators of “Drone Boning”

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If the medium is the message, as Marshall McLuhan wrote 50 years ago, what does “Drone Boning” tell us?

The 3-minute film, a side project of commercial directors Brandon LaGanke and John Carlucci of Brooklyn’s Ghost+Cow Films, features aerial views of the lush California countryside and rocky coastline whilst capturing glimpses here and there of couples faux-boning. It’s like Dronemax.

Drone-Boning

“It’s an artistic film set to good music,” says Carlucci. Good music with an “Altered States”-style backstory. The soundtrack is “The Kink,” by Minneapolis-based “Fantasy-Core” duo Zach Coulter and Ryan Olsen, who go by the names Taggart & Rosewood (the detectives from “Beverly Hills Cop”). The music was recorded at an opium den-esque 55 beats per minute with the assistance of the psychedelic DMT.

Explains LaGanke, “DMT mimics a neurotransmitter released when you are born and when you die.”

So there’s that.

But why use helicopters for porn?

“I was obsessed with helicopters as a kid. Remember ‘Blue Thunder’?”

Yes.

Carlucci says he and LaGanke were “paranoid that someone else was [shooting drone porn]” and were delighted when Taggart & Rosewood sent them their album, which they felt was perfect for the scenes they envisioned. Ghost+Cow says they split the approximate $5k production cost with the band.

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“Drone Boning” was shot around the Bay Area using an S1000 Octocopter-mounted Panasonic Lumix GH4 4K camera and strategically-girded local talent found on Craigslist.

“We had a hard time casting because a lot of people were at Burning Man,” says LaGanke of the shoot, which the small crew filmed on nights and weekends while in town for a different gig. “It was a passion project for everyone involved.”

But not so passionate that there was fluid transfer. LaGanke says the sex, seen from afar amid the grandeur of Santa Rosa, the Marin Headlands, and “guerilla filming at a famous vineyard” in Sonoma, was “all simulated; the actors were covered up.”

Well, mostly.

Drone-Boning

“We have some footage that, if we were to release it, we would be accepted into the porn community,” LaGanke says. The couple next to the blue car, a grandmother and a man whom Carlucci described at the Tribeca Film Festival as a “skeletal Obama,” was actually having sex. That specific footage was not used. Lucky, because the production did not ask for STD tests, nor is the cast credited.

“I get the feeling they did it for the thrill,” says Carlucci.

“Drone Boning” has been seen more than 2 million times in the two weeks it has been out, and the Ghost+Cow team are considering releasing Drone Bone drones in “more epic” locations, perhaps in Europe.

The film is only available on small-screen devices right now. Can they see showing the movie at festivals or IMAX theatres? The 4K captures a lot of stuff…

“I’d love to, but that would be kind of weird,” LaGanke says. “Families would come out. Children would be throwing up.”

Drone-Boning

I ask if the lack of money shots registers as heresy to the new-to-filmed-nudity pair.

“It wasn’t really a porn, so it doesn’t bother us,” LaGanke says.

“Well, you can see it both ways,” counters Carlucci, delivering an answer that might not fly with Larry Flynt. “Although it didn’t contain money shots, it was special in its own way.”

It is hard to imagine drone porn catching on, what with the eight rotors of an octocopter blowing the popshot all over the couch. But stranger things have happened (like clown porn). But it certainly is beautiful, and the soundtrack makes me want to squirt neurotransmitters all over the place.

Watch “Drone Boning” here.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: The Real Touch—Dorking Out with Your Dork Out
See also: Ghost+Cow, Taggart & Rosewood

Anal Mining: What To Expect When We “Drill Her Ass”

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This is Sheena Ryder, the juicy 30-year-old star of Mike Adriano’s “Drill Her Ass.” Of Puerto Rican and Greek heritage (which makes me want to eat dinner at her house and leave before her brothers get home), Ryder nevertheless gives up no ore or other minerals when her ass gets drilled.

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Drilling has been a presence in the news for the past several years: the British Petroleum disaster in the Gulf of Mexico, the Keystone Pipeline, and President Obama’s disappointing environmental record all revolve around the drilling-based extraction of resources. But even detractors agree that drilling gets results — primarily that Americans are weened from their dependence on foreign oil.

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Yet in the four scenes of Adriano’s anal cavalcade, not once do we see Black Gold or Texas Tea erupt from the anuses of any of the women, even the distressingly-spelled Kleio Valentien, who claims to be from Texas. No gold dust pans out from the luxurious folds of Misha Cross and no diamonds tumble from Maddy O’Reilly’s butt. It is as if Adriano is a fisherman who throws back his catches; he loves the process but isn’t interested in the result.

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To be fair, Adriano looks like he enjoys what he’s doing, and these women don’t seem to be responsible for billions of dollars of wetlands damage throughout Louisiana and Mississippi, so I guess there’s no harm done.

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But just once I’d like to see someone’s ass drilled for a million gallons of crude. It’s the same reason I’m surprised the price of wheat is so high with all the pussies getting ploughed around here.

Buy “Mike Adriano’s Drill Her Ass” here.

Julie Simone, A Woman: Women Spanking Women—Good for Women?

Julie Simone
As much as I try to explain porn to anyone else, I try to explain it to myself. Earlier this year I was on the set of a production that will probably end up costing a quarter of a million bucks (which is a lot for porn, even though it is just pennies to me, as I am rich, Rich, RICH). Will it be any better than other porn movies? Sure, if you judge porn movies by Hollywood standards, this porn movie will be way more like a Hollywood movie than other porn movies. But if people watch porn movies to jerk off or otherwise become sexually excited and/or romantically inclined, it will probably be as effective or less effective than other porn movies.

Then there’s Julie Simone’s “Fem/Fem Spankings.” This was a delightful movie that I feel could have been financed by cashing in the empties in my garage. Yet it delivers everything it promises.

The premise is that three dominatrices, who talk a big game when telling men what they’re going to do to them (Simone’s monologue, delivered dead-eyed to the camera: “You need your ass to be bvruised and welted and bloody because you have been seriously fucking up. I’ll spank it ’til I’m satisfied. It’s not about you.I hope [the paddle] breaks over your ass, and then you’ll pay for every one you’ve broken”) are themselves taken to task for some bratty infraction.

Julie Simone

Simone, for example, is spanked by the hilarious New York I-talian Kelly Payne (Simone: “She’s amazing and has won the AVN award for Best Spanking video multiple times”), who is angry with Simone for eating “12 plates of food.” Payne spanks Simone’s ass until it is a deep pink.

Eden Alexander will also wreck your life as a dominatrix, but when she lackadaisically performs her duties as a housecleaner, Elena DeLuca spanks her most harshly.

Julie Simone

The fun thing about the movie is that all of the bottoms are so goddamn bratty that spanking them seems like the right thing to do on a humanitarian level. That each character in the exchange seems to take a deep carnal satisfaction in the proceedings is gravy.

Then Simone washes out naughty schoolgirl Nikki Sebastian’s mouth with soap in front of a Highlites map of the world.

Fetish videos often feature improvised dialogue, and I think the level of physical violence involved really bring out some gems (A Joe Gallant/Julie Simone video a few years ago is a favorite), full of context, humor, personal history, and pain.

Gram: People have safewords when the action gets too heavy. Did you ever have to stop the dialogue?

Simone: I used to have to stop Aiden Starr all the time because she would take scenes in a direction not in line with my vision. I’m really not into potty mouthed vulgar Dommes, it’s such a turn off. I once had to edit a Behind the Scenes interview of a model who said she realized she liked women when her babysitter touched her!

Gram: You spank women and you get spanked. Are there advantages to keeping it same sex? In your pro-dom world, do you ever book sessions domming other women?

Simone: The men that have spanked me have seemed less aware of what I was feeling or where I was in the scene. I rarely felt a connection. Most women seem to be more in tune, though that may be more because I only sub to women I know well and with whom I have a rapport. I have never booked a session where I dommed another woman but Bella Vendetta does them all the time. Women don’t generally need to pay for such things.

Julie Simone

Gram: That and drinks. Finally, spanking can be the appetizer or the main course in a relationship where two people love each other very much. Can you think of scenarios where it is better as one or the other?

Simone: It’s a matter of personal preference. For many the fetish activity IS the sex. Having regular sex on top of it would be redundant and probably boring. It’s hard for me to think of scenarios where it would be the appetizer or prelude because I don’t view BDSM and fetish that way. I can only think of two exceptions and the sex and fetish would happen at the same time versus one after the other – smoking fetish and heavy rubber (which I usually pair together for extra intensity).

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Back to the Apocalypse at the San Francisco Fetish Ball
See also: Julie Simone

Pro Villain: Bondage Blowjobs And Kidnapping Go Better Together

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Nichification has been a buzzword in adult for several years; the consistent drilling down of fetishes — making the material more and more specific — to attract the die-hard fan. That fan, as any website operator/content producer will tell you, is just as likely to pay well as to be particular. But ProVillain.com, the site owned by Tim “Pro Villain” Woodman, reflects an economy that is snapping back from nichification to take a more holistically evil approach.

“I felt it was time to consolidate,” Woodman says from his homey studio in Porn Valley. “I’ve got the blackmail scenarios, the kidnapping scenarios, and bondage blowjobs, but in addition to updating the sites, I felt the need to put them together.”

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Not a villain myself, I imagine that if one is going to go through all the trouble of kidnapping a lady, then one might as well avail oneself of a bondage blowjob, too.

“One might,” Woodman agrees.

Plus, Woodman’s old sites were showing their age.

“My old sites were all HTML and tables,” Woodman says. “They needed to be brought up to the 21st century, 14 years in.”

Woodman, who has been in the professional bondage business for nearly two decades, notices his customers getting older even as the age range of his models widens.

“Thanks to the internet,” Woodman says, “I can get a 19-year-old woman who is very in tune with her own fetishes and also continue shooting with women who’ve been in my videos for years.”

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A quick look at the revamped and consolidated ProVillain.com reveals a multigenerational porn-fetish pantheon: Ela Darling, Caroline Pierce, Tyler Faith, Nicki Hunter, Marie McCray, Amber Rayne, Mika Tan, and Alison Tyler, whom Woodman describes as “dizzyingly tall.”

But back to the aging of your customers: Mightn’t there be something comforting about that Drudge Report/Craigslist-style 90’s website vibe?

“Perhaps, but that might stab me in the heart eventually,” Woodman says. “Stabbing people in the heart is something we villains do all the time, but not self-stabbing. I don’t want all the new kids laughing at me.”

Are there new kids?

“Kids are lousy at kidnapping,” Woodman says.

What I’m saying is, are kidnapping and blackmail scenarios something that is aging out, like player pianos and women with cigars?

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“I don’t think so,” Woodman says. “These fetishes are all about a loss of personal control that a lot of people like.”

And the permission to give up that control, too, I bet.

“Exactly,” Woodman says. “Plus, it;s a good time in this business to be a fetish producer.”

How so?

“[With the recent porn moratorium] Bondage, whipping, fondling — it’s a lower rate but you don’t need a [STD] test for it. There are scenarios with no oral sex, no genital fingering. You pretend to murder them, chloroform them … that’s the fetish. And there is a whole world of people who pay for it: Germany (of course), Japan (of course), and Australia.”

Australia?

“I don’t get it, either,” Woodman says. “But who doesn’t like baby oil on Alison Tyler’s hoo ha?”

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Rigger Please; At loose ends with Ela Darling; Gentleman/collar—Ernest Greene’s Masterful “Master of O”
See also: Pro Villain

Prufrocking with Dakota Skye

Dakota Skye
Let’s face it, gang: Many of you have been reading this site since it launched in 2005. That means that, even if I started it when I was 14, I’d still be 23, long past my prime in the porn business. I’ve seen some things. When I interviewed the charming Dakota Skye for Gamelink’s Naked Truth the other day, I sensed a fleeting moment of Prufrocking, that feeling of unseemliness for a person of my age to be doing what I’m doing, and that I should wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled, etc. (Prufrocking is merely a feeling, however; its far more serious cousin is Murtaughing: to actually be too old for this shit.)

Dakota Skye

Skye is 20 and her winsome, sylphlike form greets us from dozens of porn boxcovers. In our interview she made it clear that, though her upbringing was different from mine — mother a stripper, stepfather a former brothel owner — we both had similar feelings about steak. I asked her to take some selfies because there’s no better way of knowing how someone wants the world to see her.

Dakota Skye

I was reminded of Brandon Iron’s wonderful/chilling series “She Is Half My Age” from 2007, in which the depraved Canadian and similarly superannuated porn dudes made the basis of the pairing the fact that, when their female partners were being born, these guys were already out of high school.

Dakota Skye

I am sailing into Cautionary Tale territory, I warned myself. Whatever you do, Grams, don’t start wearing your baseball cap to the side, breaking into a rap, or showing them the cowbell app on your iPhone 4.

Dakota Skye

Throughout the interview, Skye is both exuberant and introspective. You should read it. But was I this sure of myself when I was 20, smoking joints in front of the cable guy, wearing hoodies to the airport, eating Carl’s Jr.? I thought, “You’d be able to see why someone might max out his credit card and wreck his life for this person.”

Dakota Skye

Of course, Skye would never be a willing participant in someone wrecking his life over her. “Oh, this old thing?” she’d say, a la Violet Bick, “I only wear this when I don’t care how I look.”

Q. Grams, why are you being all #rapeculture and #notallmen and #woodyallen about this? Do you think men lack all agency and get nutty about 20-year-olds?
A. This is why I never open up to you. I can’t trust you with my feelings.

All I’m saying is that, if you watch a POV movie starring Dakota Skye, you can bet the production had to spring for Mouthbreather Insurance, as that is all you hear from the other side of the camera.

I, myself, view Skye with nothing but professional detachment and admiration for her work, as I am America’s Beloved Porn Journalist. My own relationships are with age-appropriate women in their 20s.

Anikka Albrite: Hotwife with A Hose

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Nowhere in the English-speaking world is there a town called Pumpkins, yet what a comforting name to consider when driving through the tail end of an October heatwave: Calabasas means pumpkins in Spanish, and before I saw the pumpkilicious Anikka Albrite cavorting naked with a hose on the set of “I Love My Hotwife 2,” I imagined autumn in civilized places, redolent of cider and premature turtleneck sweat, but where they had only seen people like Albrite in pictures.

I’d been to this house before, almost exactly a year ago. The movie being filmed that day was called “Show Me How.” Aiden Starr was showing Jessie Andrews how to … how to what? I’m not sure. How to fuck? Seems unlikely. It had been a nice day on the set of this Andre Madness movie. I talked with Aiden Starr, of whom I am terribly fond, but Andrews refused an interview, saying she’d been burned by journalists before.

Jessie Andrews Aiden Starr

I wanted to assure her that I was not a journalist. It even says on my card: America’s Beloved Porn Journalist. Surely she would see the irony there. Surely she didn’t count the interview I’d done with her a few years before among those times she’d been burned. But I didn’t pursue it. Instead, I remember thinking how clean the medium-pile beige carpeting was.

“I would drop coffee on this the first day I lived here,” I thought.

Jessie Andrews Aiden Starr

But today was a different movie. Jacky St. James of New Sensations was shooting Albrite in “I Love My Hotwife 2.” Same hallway! Same door!

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I had never heard the term “hotwife” before. It sounds like something you’d do to a car.

“It’s when the husband wants to share his wife with someone else,” St. James says. “It’s very particular. He might even suggest the way she dresses. There’s control involved.”

“Like offering a ride in his Lamborghini to impress a business contact?” I ask, trying to imagine that world.

“Yes,” St. James says, “but it’s not cuckolding.”

St. James and Albrite pick out clothes. It is pointless because Albrite will just take them off again. Somehow, when there is such glorious nudity around, it doesn’t feel like coming home to a sinkful of dishes you just washed last night.

Anikka Albrite

St. James explains that some A-list porn guys would not want to be seen in a cuckold movie because it implies humiliation (if they are to be cuckolded) and lack of control. Hotwifing, on the other hand, is all about the husband passing out his wife like a nice box of Cuban cigars.

The porn world is very small. On hand is a man who was once known as Grip Johnson, who several years ago had started the cuckold mini-genre in porn as co-founder of Chatsworth Pictures. He is now a porn industry publicist and I recall that, like St. James, Johnson had discovered the cuckold fetish on message boards and sought to capitalize on it pornographically.

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“Those were wild times,” Johnson says wistfully. We try to figure out the name of the woman in a movie that I made an appearance in, back in 2007? There’s a K in it. (Turns out it was Kirra Lynne.) I always admired Johnson’s work. He didn’t misuse the word “cuckold” to suggest that a cuckold was the guy doing the wife-fucking but instead the poor sap left to watch. Similarly, St. James is adamant that her movie stay within the bounds of the established fetish.

“The messageboards get angry if you get it wrong,” she says.

The cameraman on today’s shoot is Paul Woodcrest, who shot camera for my 2009 epic “The Facts of Life XXX,” probably the greatest porn film ever made.

As I watch Albrite choose her clothes, I am reminded of Ashli Orion sprawling nakedly through her stripper gear in the dressing room while Kodi Gamble checked her texts on what is now a museum-worthy phone, and the world folds in on itself again. Luckily I wrote it all down.

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But it’s not all nudity and gaping.

Woodcrest and the brilliant Eddie Powell school me on the various methods of vaping and pull out complicated equipment like they are poolhall sharpies assembling elegant cues and blowing churro-scented smoke like it’s a Disneyland of the Mouth.

“I never smoked before,” says Woodcrest, “and now I’m one of these assholes.”

But the star of the day is Anikka Albrite, who today will be working with her husband of six months, Mick Blue. The twist is that Blue will be playing Ricardo, the masseuse her husband lends his hotwife to.

Anikka Albrite

I see that there is a script, but before I know it Albrite is naked out in the Calabasas heat, clutching a garden hose between her rich thighs.

Flower Tucci

And now it’s 2008 and I’m at Flower Tucci’s house, somewhere in Porn Valley but east of here. She’s out by her pool and clutching a garden hose between her rich thighs. It’s February yet it’s hot. It’s always so goddamn hot. I’ve been doing this job for 12 years.

Anikka Albrite and Mick Blue

I’m sitting in the kitchen with Albrite and Blue. They are in love. I ask them about porn star marriages and Albrite refers to the good ones as being “partners in crime.” That’s a great way to think of it. I recently had a relationship where I felt like I was pulling a rock up a hill, so I like Albrite’s version better.

“You need to create a solid foundation first so that you can resist the storms,” says Blue. “If the first thing you want to do once you get into a relationship is have a threesome, then maybe the relationship is not for you.”

Both are performers about whom other performers say nice things behind their backs. Blue, who is from Graz, Austria, just like Arnold Schwarzenegger, tells me that the German for “Walk of Shame” is Schandenweg. I am reminded of when, nine years ago, Katja Kassin gave me the perfect German word for a girl with a good set of hips. Albrite is such a woman, too.

The German word for pumpkin is merely kurbis, lest you think the Germans have a better word for everything.

Meat Curtain Call: “The Vagina Talk Show”

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In the neighborhood of Van Nuys, just east of Sepulveda Blvd., in a makeshift theatre at the back of a sex club, three women sit onstage with their upper bodies concealed by a tarp. Once seated, they spread their legs to an appreciative audience of 30 people. This is the Vagina Talk Show (not to be confused with The Vagina Monologues) and, in terms of theatrical experiences in Los Angeles, it’s like returning to the womb.

The women appear to range in age from late 40s to about 60 and, clad in fishnets and boots, they present their vulvas as part of a package deal; the voices behind the tarp tell some fascinating stories.

Emceed by Ronnie Larsen — on the shortlist of adjectives to describe him is “flamboyant” — The Vagina Talk Show (he also hosts a Penis Talk Show in the tiny theatre at the back of Club Sex Addict) is fun, informative, and surprisingly sweet. It is also a throwback to New York cabaret from the 1970s and 80s, a world that Larsen hopes to bring to L.A.

Larsen refers to the owners of the vaginas the way “Dating Game” host Jim Lange would have, as Vagina 1,2, and 3.

Onstage, the women quickly assert their personalities. Vagina #1 knows all the Latin terms (she points out, for example, that we’re actually staring at her vulva, to which Larsen replies “oh pardon me”). Vagina #2 is a former porn star, having appeared in the classic (and banned) 2000 Elegant Angel film “The Fist, the Whole Fist, And Nothing But the Fist” (I can’t figure out who she is by her plumbing, because when I look at porn stars, I just look at their eyes), and then there is Vagina #3.

Vagina #3 is special. Born in Jerusalem, she says she is a Hebrew school teacher by day, but by night, she moves from the Torah to the Labia Minora.
Vagina #3 rubs her labia (which she pronounces “Libya”) constantly, and at one point confessed her attraction to a student’s dog.

“I wanted to fuck the English Setter,” she says. “Maybe it was a terrier. If a dog has character, I’ll go for it.”

Co-host Elle “Lady Cheeky” Chase, director of the L.A. Sex Academy, pipes up, saying “Hey now.”

But Vagina #3 will not be deterred.

“I read about [dog sex] a lot,” she says. “It’s becoming a thing.”

The audience is in hysterics. It is a group from their 20s to their 60s, men and women, couples who will be visiting the adjoining sex club later, people from out of town who read about this series of shows on theatre websites. It’s a diverse and absolutely satisfied audience, each member delighted to have found this place at the back of a sketchy parking lot on Oxnard Blvd.

But it’s not all shock and awe up there with the Vaginas (although Vagina #3 points out — and it makes sense at the time, but I am laughing so hard I can’t figure out what the context is — that she occasionally rubs Oscar Meyer weiners against her vagina, which is probably not kosher). The owner of Vagina #1 is talking about her post-menopausal sex life.

“I’ve lost a lot of sensitivity in my clit but my vaginal sensitivity has gone through the roof,” she says.

An audience member asks about squirting and Vagina #1 decries it as a party trick if it is not organic.

“Our vaginas are not a proving ground for men to make us squirt,” she says.

Talking about her own preferences in foreplay, Vagina #2 advises partners to not make a beeline for her clitoris.

“Don’t go directly for my clit,” she says. “Touch my whole body before you touch in between my legs. Then, it’s like a clock: 10 and 2 are very pleasurable. 12 can be very sensitive.”

“Ooh!” says Chase. “The Witching Hour.”

With her consent, Chase takes a mirror and a magnifying panel to the vulva of Vagina #1 as the two point out the oft-confused working parts. Then the other women allow the audience to get up close and personal (but no touching!) with their own parts.

“Come visit the neighborhood,” says Vagina #3.

Running since July, the Vagina Talk Show has been extended several times, with different women joining the panel. I talk with a woman outside who had been onstage the week before.

“Was it otherworldly to have 30 pairs of eyes on your vagina?” I ask.

“No!” she says. “It was very freeing.”

“Do you think you’ll need 30 people watching the next time you show your vagina?” I probe, America’s Beloved Porn Journalist.

“I don’t think so,” she says.

I see a lot of live shows in Los Angeles and have come to expect a certain homogeneity of audience. Very rarely is an audience not comprised mostly of other actors and/or musicians, or friends of whomever is onstage. I have to leave town in order to get a real audience experience. The Vagina Talk Show is a genuine theatre experience that happens to involve partial nudity, superb, boisterous hosting, and genuine audience interaction. The only thing you get screwed on is the sex club next door.

Upcoming shows at the CSA Theatre:

Sep 19th – Porn Star Dating Game w/BBW Karla Lane and her friends

Sep 26th – The Penis Talk Show (opening night)

October 3rd – The Vagina Talk Show w/co-host Dr.Limor Blockman
(Clinical Sex Therapist and host of SEXPERTS on Playboy Radio)

See also: Club Sex Addict
Previously on Porn Valley Observed: The Famous Vagina of Amber Peach; How Lady Cheeky Got Her Groove Back

Slave Leia And Pale Tit Skin: Transitional Times for She Geeks

She-Geek Panel CatalystCon
Tanya Tate And Ela Darling at CatalystCon

Outcast and abandoned, the Nerd retreats to his comics and superheroes, where even the women are comely misfits. The girls at school scorn him and — what’s worse — seem to be attracted to the bullies who haunt his steps. He finds refuge in Dungeons, Dragons, and Doritos. There is also some comfort to be gleaned from the wise Canadians of Rush. Each year he and his schlubby friends make the pilgrimage to the comic book convention, but something dispiriting has been happening more and more: the same women who spurned him are now prowling the convention floor in librarian glasses and fishnets, furry cat ears and Rush t-shirts…

—from Maybe If I Blockquote It I Can Pretend It’s Not About Me

Women wishing to participate in male-dominated geek culture face a Damned If You Do Dilemma: How to negotiate the minefield of being too sexy or not sexy enough, how to let your geek flag fly without your nerd bona fides being challenged, and how to contribute to the hero pantheon in a more significant way than simply dressing like one?

“I’m constantly being challenged on my Geek status,” says Ela Darling who, along with Tanya Tate, represented porn stars in “Fantasy Girls: The Perils Women Face in Geek Culture” at last weekend’s CatalystCon in Los Angeles.

Moderated by Sherri Shaulis of AVN, the panel also featured “Crazy Mary” graphic novelist Michael Colbert. The experiences of Tate and Darling were at the forefront, however, as each reflected on the challenges of being women, self-identified nerds, and porn stars in a Comic-Con world that once had plenty of 2-dimensional women but very few real ones.

“I actually dress down when I cosplay at Comic-Con,” Tate says. Her character, a curvaceous ass-kicker named Lady Titan, is demure compared to some of the women she sees at comic conventions.

“I cover up more because of the porn career,” she says, “and because I don’t want to deal with the wandering hands. Although I often have to slap someone’s hands and they get resentful.”

Both women noted that events like Comic-Con could be sexual morasses, with men not understanding the right way to behave. Porn conventions, on the other hand, have clear guidelines about touching, as well as hovering security.

“At a porn convention, people know the rules,” Tate says.

But “How To Deal with Women” has only recently become an issue at Comic-Con.

“I remember some of the first San Diego Comic-Cons,” says Colbert. “There were 12 guys. It’s kind of a head trip being on that ride.” (Since 2010, the July event has maxed out at more than 130,000 people, most of them really sweaty.)

That geek culture is now mainstream and consumed by both men and women leads one to wonder how many women are involved in the creative process.

Tate noted that a recent retreat for Marvel Comics writers featured no women. “They excluded female writers and made excuses about it,” she says.

“And even female superheroes — like Black Widow from The Avengers — are secondary characters.”

Shaulis speculated that the commodification of nerd culture began with 1984’s “Revenge of the Nerds,” and the panel also talked about Carrie Fisher’s “Slave Leia” in “Return of the Jedi” the year before.

Regardless of when being a nerd became popular or when women started participating in the culture (the panel noted that it was Carrie fisher, and not George Lucas, who wanted to sex up Princess Leia), Darling and Tate encountered some of the same problems when dealing with men at nerdy events.

“Women get grilled about their geek cred,” Darling says. “A man will ask me a hundred questions about who I’m dressed up as — and try to catch me in a mistake. Or they’ll say, ‘Did you come with your boyfriend?'”

While the panel discussed the trials of women in geek culture, Darling’s and Tate’s perspective was that of conventionally attractive women. But whereas a man can cosplay with love handles (he might not get laid, but he won’t be called out), women are more subject to body type rules.

Audience member Karen Hudson elaborated on geek misogyny.

“When I cosplay as Voldemort (a male character) and people don’t know I’m a woman, they just look at me like ‘Respect,’ she says. “When I’m Lily Potter, they say things like, ‘I like the way your hair reflects on your pale tit skin.'”

(#paletitskin is now a trending topic.)

Shaulis said she does not attend conventions in costume because she doesn’t want to be known as “Fat River Song.”

Tate does not have a problem with sexualization of women in the comics world. “I like the sexy stuff,” she says, mentioning Pennsylvania’s Zenescope Entertainment, publisher of comics and graphic novels filled with fabric-busting women. “But I do worry about some of the younger girls at the conventions.”

“Yeah, I just have a problem with people not respecting women’s bodies,” Darling added.

Darling, a former librarian who actually has the Dewey Decimal Number of “Harry Potter” tattooed on her body, says that she needn’t defend herself against being a “fake geek girl” to anyone.

“I understand that people are possessive of their fandom,” she says, “but it’s more than that. They act like I’m stepping on their dick when I don’t let them grab my ass.”

Is it possible that the introduction of sensate and carbon-based women into a culture that rarely had contact with them leads to resentment — another co-opting of a safe space?

“Every revolution gets co-opted,” says Colbert. “Even the mainstreaming of geek culture.”

Darling says that the role women play in geek culture is both visible and limited. It can change the more women create and sell their own comic characters.

“Women are denied their own fantasy if they’re not making their own content,” she says.

Of the men who would exclude women from nerdy events or try to — as Darling puts it — “vet their geek experience” — Colbert says that the female perspective s here to stay.

“The old guard will die off,” he says. (It’s all the Doritos.)

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Adult Industry Moves to Maine Instead

“Lady Valor”: Kristin Beck’s Just War at Home

Kristin Beck The Lady Valor
Kristin Beck in Los Angeles

In “Lady Valor: The Kristin Beck Story,” there are no shots of the awareness-raising transwoman pulling off her fake eyelashes and weeping in a dressing room mirror. Why? Because the CNN Films documentary — which screened at this weekend’s CatalystCon in Los Angeles — doesn’t approach the former Navy SEAL’s transition from man to woman as a sexual one, making her story more accessible and non-threatening to the audience she needs to reach.

“This is made for people from Oklahoma and Kansas,” the earnest and affable Beck says after the screening. “That’s why there’s a dog in every scene, a gun in every scene.”

“Lady Valor” follows Beck (and her dog) across the country in an RV, where she eventually visits family members in her Long Island hometown. She handily destroys targets set up in her dad’s back yard with various weapons, and proceeds to execute flawless defensive driving maneuvers in a pickup truck. We meet people in the town who are proud of Beck’s 20 years of service, and we watch as the soft-spoken, muscly 47-year-old quietly wins people over.

Beck was known as Christopher until 2011, when she retired with the rank of Senior Chief Petty Officer. Instead of footage of drag shows and gay clubs, we watch firefights, plane jumps, and a bearded Beck negotiating with Afghan tribesmen.

It is an outstanding documentary that underlines the fact that if America is reflected in her military, then that is the place we must go to reckon with our notions of gender.

“The military is great for transmen to hide out and be tomboys,” Beck says. “And good for transwomen to build armor around themselves.”

Beck the soldier is depicted as a man with a death wish, always first into the fray and volunteering for dangerous missions. Beck drank, was distant, and alienated two wives. The documentary stresses that it was Beck’s pre-transition behavior that is the cause of her estrangement from her two sons.

But Beck the transgender activist is just as driven but far more gentle. We witness the sadness of her family life — her boys won’t talk to her, several siblings and her mother decline to be interviewed — but also watch her endure these setbacks with grace and quiet humor. She looks so familiar. In most of the movie she resembles the beefy mulleted dude at a 1987 Bon Jovi tailgate party, but for the blouses.

After the screening she mentioned that she has a joke when meeting with Pentagon and other Department of Defense officials.

“I’ve still got Top Secret clearance,” she says. “I say ‘Look! I got in here with my guns!,’ I go in there with my medals and Purple Heart and they can’t say shit to me.”

Beck said there is one transgender woman killed per week in America, and related statistics that place the transgender teen suicide rate at 40 percent.

“All I’m asking is to give people a chance,” she says. “Don’t get punched in the face (for being transgender). Don’t get stabbed.

“Just remember that TG girl you’re talking shit to might be a Navy SEAL.”

Beck says that what is shown in the documentary is calculated. “I’m preaching to the chorus here,” she says to a Q&A crowd pleased with its knowledge of buzz terms like “rape culture,” “gender fuckery,” and “consent.” “But I’m not going to convince anyone [in the heartland] unless they cannot deny my dedication to freedom.”

Kristin Beck The Lady ValorDespite its historical incalcitrance the military, Beck says, is showing signs of coming around. Despite this, some of Beck’s NAVY buddies admit to feeling betrayed by her transition. We meet several of her fellow SEALs, each of whom praises his buddy’s skill and resolve, then grudgingly accepts Kristin’s new reality. A muted exchange in a local bar shows another tough Navy dude accepting Kristin by virtue of her guts.

I had gone to the CatalystCon Film Series eager and expecting to see awful amateur nudie movies and instead was knocked for a loop by “Lady Valor.” Beck just refuses to talk like the strident and easily-offended activist. She speaks a language more native to how I grew up. We watch her shoot skeet, shoot pool, and drink beer and we realize — absent polarizing “sexuality,” — that she’s just an ordinary person who happens to have been a Navy SEAL and also happens to be transgender. We like this person.

“It’s not all drag queens and sex,” she says. And keeping those in-your-face elements out of it is the Hearts And Minds campaign of “Lady Valor.”

Beck is now settled in the Washington D.C. area and is studying for her Master’s degree in International Relations. She is mulling a run for Congress. I would vote for her.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: “Larry Flynt: The Right To Be Left Alone”
See also: Kristin Beck

Gentleman/collar: Ernest Greene’s Masterful “Master of O”

Master Of O
Ernest Greene with Claire Adams

Trial lawyer Steven Diamond, a fixer at the top of his game, is offered a special tribute by his younger brother, Ray: the timeshare of the captivating and submissive fetish photographer, O. Sex, substance, and sadness ensue. Oh, and lots of stuff.

If the conventional love story is Boy Meets Girl, Boy Loses Girl, Boy Gets Girl Back, then it’s true that Ernest Greene’s landmark BDSM tale “Master of O” is at least one third conventional. But that is as accessible as he is going to get. The rest is up to you.

“I don’t assume the audience needs to be apprised of things they can figure out for themselves,” Greene says.

But to better appreciate Greene’s novel, released this summer by Daedalus Publishing, one can look at nearly a decade of preview material in the form of Hustler’s Taboo Magazine, the glossy hardcore fetish mag Greene edits, and the three movies Greene wrote and directed for Adam & Eve, “O: The Power of Submission” (featuring Carmen Luvana), “The Surrender of O” (with a pre-Sheen Bree Olson), and “The Truth About O” (starring Bobbi Starr and Asa Akira). Each serves as a stop on the very particular pilgrimage that is a Dominant/submissive relationship, exploring the themes of training, mentorship, the freedom of submission, and the weight of dominance.

“There’s also almost wall-to-wall sex,” Greene points out. “Don’t forget.”

That’s right, the sex. When O presents herself to Steven —

“Present yourself.”
Languidly, O leaned forward until her breasts touched the floor. She swept the skirt up, composing it across her back, then stretched her arms out in front of her and touched her forehead to the floor. Her pelvis was rotated up, her knees apart. As Steven had assumed, the smoky Wolford stay-ups were all she wore underneath the full skirt and old-fashioned tulle petticoat. He looked lingeringly at what he was meant to see.

— thus begins a relationship that is massive with sex. Sex between two people, three people, several people. Intimate sex, sex for show, sex as a gift, sex as instruction, and (always) sex as ritual. Unlike the constraints of porn movies, the sex in “Master of O” does not stop at the popshot and does not necessarily begin when the clothes come off. It’s in the density of detail, like amber liquid in a heavy crystal glass, that serves as foreplay and aftercare.

Because the real revelation in “Master of O” is not the sex; it’s the place sex occupies in the rigid hierarchies of O and Steven. Steven’s home is a shrine to his high end hobbies and fashion, and O occupies an exalted place therein, to be sure, but in “Master Of O”‘s numerous sex scenes and well over 120,000 words, you will not find a single mention of “sweat pants.”

For example:

The rose stickpin came out first, to be skewered into the red felt inside the fitted-leather dressing box on the long, low chest next to the bathroom door. His plain, round platinum and jet cufflinks went there too, in a different compartment from the toggled chain bracelet and the onyx ring. The engraved card case and pillbox dropped into their spaces and the leather box shut with a firm click. Drawing the red-and-black pocket square, Steven shook it out, folded it neatly and slid it into a narrow drawer with many like it and many others more ornate. There was another drawer for glasses an optometrist might have envied. The wallet joined a dozen more in a locked cabinet and the fountain pen slid into a vertical rack inside a glass case so crowded with extravagant writing instruments it resembled an ant farm. His watch joined a dozen others in a motorized Tourbillion auto-winder with a skeleton movement.
He caught a quick glimpse of himself in the three-way fitting mirror. Steven’s looks didn’t inspire vanity, but his style did.

Master Of OWe follow Steven, a man in his mid-fifties, the much-younger O, and Ray through their workdays in a contemporary Los Angeles that remains noirish in the porny sunlight. We also meet Marie, Steve’s ex-wife, a confidante and ruler of The Mansion, a school for submissives where clients can sample the wares, much like a kinky version of the public restaurant at the Cordon Bleu Academy.

In the “O” movies, Marie was played by Nina Hartley, Greene’s wife.

So now that you have some background, we begin our Ernest Greene interview with the necessary, obvious, and hated reference to a certain bestselling bondage-lite airport novel for moms by E.L James.

Gram: How heavy did the shadow of “50 Shades of Grey” hang over “Master of O”?

Greene: Well, I’m 62 years old, and I did not want to write a disingenuous tale. But “50 Shades” was definitely present in my mind as I thought about writing a definitive update to “O.” I thought, Do I want to write propaganda or counter-propaganda? Very quickly it became clear that I wanted to write neither of those, but a novel. By Chapter Three the furthest thing from my mind was E.L. James.

Gram: I’ve seen your home with Nina. I’ve read your magazine and I’ve watched your movies. How much is Steven Diamond you?

Greene: Naturally bits of the author are going to show up. I can provide details of sexual encounters and things that I have seen and done, but Steven might be more aspirational for me. My middle name is Steven — there were about six Jews in Denver when I was growing up, so it was determined that I should at least have a goyische middle name — but the character is more based on my late friend Emerson. He was a lawyer, a kinky guy, larger than life, not overly concerned about morality but not amoral. He was also the type of guy who’d pay $100 for a tie back when $100 was a lot to spend on a tie.

Gram: This is a long time ago? I just bought a tie at a yard sale for a dollar.

Greene: And I bet you look great in it.

MASTER OF O
Ernest Greene with Mika Tan

Gram: For all Steven’s Master of the Universe status, you make it a point early on and throughout the book that both Steven and O are aware of the finiteness of his reach. There’s an understanding of limits.

Greene: It’s an important part of the story. Trial lawyers know they are hired help. Steven is the go-to guy for certain problems, a fixer of fleeting things. But the people he often works for — the type of people whose middle name might be “von” — operate in a world far above his. For all his skill, he knows his employers often think of him as a “regrettable necessity that won’t marry our sisters.”

Gram: So Steven knows his limits, which is something that you don’t see as part of the standard male dominant character.

Greene: And the great thing about this relationship — this more true-to-life portrayal of the Dominant/submissive relationship — is that O knows it, too. Everyone is aware of limits, so that when the limits get breached there is a reckoning.

Gram: Back to the idea of Steven being aspirational — at least somewhat — for you, what do you admire about him?

Greene: Steven has no secret life. Secrets give other people power. It’s a luxury of his to live a wide-open life.

Gram: Yes, at one point you make it clear that Steven does not have to work; he likes the cut and thrust of his job.

Greene: To not need to work is a great freedom.

Gram: We meet a couple of characters that might be familiar to people who are following California’s condoms in porn legislation. In addition to painting Los Angeles as it is in “Master of O,” what’s the purpose of this level of topicality?

Greene: It makes Steven a part of his time. It might also be petty. It might be both of those things. The author has his opinions and Steven can execute some of those opinions.

Gram: Is there an agenda at all? I notice that Steven and Ray kind of bust the stereotype of kinky people as humorless. At times, Steven is downright jolly and Ray noodles on a guitar.

Greene: That dour image is unfortunate. The grim and humorless image is unfortunate. You can see kinky people being merry at multi-day events, where someone might give a fisting demonstration with the tagline “Learn What It’s Like To Be A Muppet.”

Gram: Sorry to keep bringing this up, but just as books like “The Da Vinci Code” might have made uneducated people think they were instant experts on art and the Catholic Church —

Greene: Very popular books can do a lot of damage to the truth, yes. “Gone with the Wind” did. Not all dominant males are sociopaths, they’re not all abuse victims. There doesn’t have to be something “wrong.” Furthermore, I don’t think any of these so-called “edge players” would make it for 15 seconds in Fight Club…

Gram: Notwithstanding that “Master of O” is both a massive, sweeping novel and a very intimate one, it happens to exist at the same time as this cultural phenomenon of “50 Shades.”

Greene: Most BDSM has been junk. You need an Anti Defamation League for kinky people, starting with that book. Steven Diamond is in his own way a principled man. His principles are sleek. He is — speaking of Tom Wolfe — a “man in full.” Christian Grey is not the exemplar of the dominant male — Steven Diamond is.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: O: The Places They Go
See also: Buy “Master of O” (official site)

Today in Porn Swag: Two Cups, “9 1/2 Weeks”

9 1/2 Weeks - An Erotic XXX Parody swag
There are a bunch of ways cops profile the poor. One way involves porn swag t-shirts bearing movie titles, a starlet’s picture, or some Ed Hardy-style take on a porn company’s logo. When you wear a t-shirt like this, a cop (and everyone else) says, “This guy pays for sex.”

Not that it is bad to pay for sex or wrong to offer it in exchange for money. But if prostitution happens to be illegal in your town, everyone knows from your “Pirates 2: Stagnetti’s Revenge” t-shirt that you’ve got some hookers on speed-dial, boast of your postings on The Erotic Review, and are conversant on issues particular to the hobbyist community.

Other than people who pay for sex, the other group that wears porn swag t-shirts are disaster relief victims.

When I get a box from a porn company containing a t-shirt with the movie title on it, I like to think of all the kids helped by UNICEF decked out in donated Wicked’s “2040” gear. Because I send all my porn t-shirts to UNICEF.

Anyway, I was very happy to receive Adam & Eve’s promo package for David Lord’s better-than-the-source=material “9 1/2 Weeks – An Erotic XXX Parody.” It consisted of the movie on DVD as well as two solid tumblers capable of containing drinks. Useful!

I encourage useful promotional materials. in 2003 I received a thermos and picnic set from the studio Metro. I used them before I lost them. I got a heavy cartridge box as part of Wicked’s “Coming Home” campaign that I used to store teabags in. At porn conventions, my ID badge is often held on a lanyard donated by the affiliate company Pussycash that I am mortified to my skin to have around my neck. What’s worse is that African kids have no use for lanyards because they carry stuff on their heads.

My review of “9 1/2 Weeks – An Erotic XXX Parody” (originally posted on Gamelink’s Naked Truth) is below. I enjoyed it. It may have had something to do with the fact that overflow guests at my Christmas party are going to have some special nog conveyances.

9 1/2 Weeks - An Erotic XXX Parody Studio: Adam & Eve
Director: David Lord
Starring: Summer Brielle, Capri Cavanni, James Deen, Nikki Delano, Tyler Nixon, Eva Karera, David Lord, James Bartholet, Tommy Gunn

Adrian Lyne made some iconic movies in the 1980s and 1990s. Films like “Fatal Attraction” and “Indecent Proposal” were not only guilty fun, but also asked some serious (albeit titillating) questions about our relationships. Lyne also took a crack at a “Lolita” adaptation and made one of my favorite horror movies, 1991’s “Jacob’s Ladder.”

But Lyne is most famous for the 1986 Mickey Rourke/Kim Basinger film “Nine 1/2 Weeks,” about a broody Wall Street insider and his 76-day wad of a relationship with an art gallery assistant. It’s dark (lighting-wise), in love with itself, and unsexy in a way that makes you think none of the people involved in the making of the film had ever had sex, which is impossible but that is how contrived it was. It reverberates to this day in other bondage-lite, psychosexual affairs where the pursuing male liberates a jittery woman from her sexual rut by way of tying her up and telling her what to do. It sparked a dangerous “Well this is what women really want” glut that can be seen in crap like “Fifty Shades of Grey.”

“Nine 1/2 Weeks” was co-written by “Red Shoe Diaries” producer Zalman King, which explains the movie’s influence on the regrettable strain of Porn Valley films for the next couple of decades: over-serious, underlit pageants of talking-doll-fucking. To my knowledge, Wicked Pictures doesn’t make that kind of movie anymore.

Nine And 1/2 Weeks PornRegardless, “Nine 1/2 Weeks” was a cultural touchstone, maybe because of Joe Cocker’s great version of “You Can Leave Your Hat On” that served as a music video within the movie (MTV was only a few years old then) and the high-concept simplicity of its theme: Most relationships spend their sexual fuel in that amount of time. Whether you believe that or not, that was a concept made for the coke-addled 80s.

Why has it taken this long, then, to make a porn version? “Nine 1/2 Weeks” was ripe for a porn adaptation precisely because it was just the type of flick that porn could improve (indeed, both of the movie’s sequels were pornier and went straight to video). Just look at 80’s-skinny Kim Basinger in this photo — the world needs someone a facial cumshot wouldn’t decapitate or otherwise injure.

That is why I found Adam & Eve’s “9 1/2 Weeks – An Erotic XXX Parody” such a pleasure.

I’ll tell you up front: I feel about Adrian Lyne’s “Nine And 1/2 Weeks” the way Alec Baldwin feels about Kim Basinger. But the things that made the 1986 “Nine And 1/2 Weeks” a plodding, unsexy disappointment all work to the advantage of David Lord‘s faithful porn adaptation; whereas the forgettable sex in the 80s version was treated as risque, forbidden and — worse than those — trendy, the Chinese-character tattoos, inflated boobs, and shaved pussies of the fantasy realm of millennial Porn Valley make sense: finally, everyone agrees it’s ridiculous. We can settle in, then, and appreciate the natural light playing off pneumatic miracles of science like Summer Brielle and Capri Cavanni, set against the beautifully overcast Los Angeles, itself a great improvement over Lyne’s sullen and cokey 80s New York.

Nine And 1/2 Weeks Porn

Summe Brielle (Kim) is made up to look like Kim Basinger. In fact, the makeup is piled on so thick it appears that she is at least two inches closer to the camera. This is how I remember Kim Basinger, too. I remember thinking: Please Just Stop Talking, Kim Basinger: You Don’t Look Well. When broody James Deen (Mickey — get it? Their characters have the same first names as the stars of the original) comes into her art gallery (the paintings are on the floor, stacked against the wall), he gives her the scarf that she’d been haggling over the day before.

“What do you want from me?” she says.

“Everything,” he replies. “You. Utterly. Completely. Without hesitation.”

Did that line work in the original? No. No real woman would fall for it, even in the 80s. But it seems downright gallant and wholesome when James Deen says it.

“But,” he adds, “I’ll settle for dinner first.”

The way the porn version has already shaved time off the original (leaving more room for actual penetrative sex!) is that where once we saw Mickey Rourke buying the scarf, now James Deen simply refers to the purchase already having happened. And we don’t watch the new couple eating dinner, we just cut to Brielle saying “Dinner was amazing!” and Deen preparing the bed for the dessert fuck.

“What makes you think I’m just going to sleep with you,” she says. “Do I seem cheap and easy to you?” (Yes, actually — he got you here with a scarf.)

“Nobody’s touched you for a while,” Deen says, “made you feel like the woman you are.”

“What makes you think you know how I feel?” she says.

“A hunch.”

This is a great exchange, and Lord takes his time with the actors. It’s lit so well, and Brielle looks so good, and she has just said “What makes you think you know how I feel?” with such feeling, that you want to see her naked.

This charming bit of business would have been perfect had this not been a porn film. In order to satisfy the 5-sex scene requirement, however, a little scene has been tacked on to the beginning (that morning) where Brielle asks her roommate, Capri Cavanni, to sympathy-fuck Brielle’s ex, Tyler Nixon.

Nine And 1/2 Weeks Porn

“He’s a really good lover,” Brielle says, and Cavanni should know, because she just heard the two of them having sex.

The very next goddamn day, when Brielle interrupts Cavanni and Nixon in bed together (“It’s OK,” Brielle says. “Your parents will love him — mine did”) Nixon fucks Cavanni the same way Deen fucked Brielle.

What I’m getting at is that porn always paints itself in this corner; you can’t chop up this movie and sell each individual scene in a compilation if Nixon’s style of fucking is much different from Deen’s. But in the world of this movie we now have no idea whatsoever why Brielle left Nixon. The only difference between Nixon and Deen is that one bought a scarf, pretends to like art, and puts blindfolds on girls (which he soon has them take off). Their penises seem to be the same size (by the way, I’m glad this movie was not called “Nine And 1/2 Inches”). They both pull out to come on their mates’ abdomens. The very Porno Industrial Complex sorta requires them to be the same guy, to the detriment of any story you’re trying to tell.

And another thing: Deen knows the woman Brielle is by her belly piercing. Everybody does. A woman like Brielle pulls off her clothes to reveal hardware like that and all the disbelief you’d suspend about her somehow being innocent goes right out the window. Yes, I’m saying it: If you’ve got huge fake boobs and a belly ring, you’ve got no right to act appalled when your boyfriend brings home a hooker for a threeway.

Nine And 1/2 Weeks Porn

Later, Brielle masturbates according to the watch Deen gave her, just like in the original. She’s just way more convincing than Kim Basinger. She does the “You Can Leave Your Hat On” dance for Deen (except this production couldn’t afford roof access for the climax) (and perhaps they should have called it “You Can Leave Your Condom On” because, you know…) and they share an abbreviated version of the food fetish scene.

Deen masterfully leads Brielle through his various kinks, which seem tame by any modern porn standards. He convinces her to dress as a man and accompany him to a strip club (where we watch director David Lord getting blown by a stripper, and we are happy for him. It’s appropriate. Far more appropriate than what Spielberg got up to on the set of “Schindler’s List,” anyway).

But here’s an odd thing. In the original, the couple is mistaken for gay lovers and called “Faggots!” by some punks. In the porn version they’re harassed by a limo driver but there are no lifestyle slurs. Sometimes porn shows us a better version of the world than we live in.

Nine And 1/2 Weeks Porn

In a movie that is otherwise a much sexier clean lift from the original, one fun surprise is when Deen takes his special lady to a porn shoot. Deen has arranged with director Barrett Blade to let Brielle direct a porn scene. At first she’s nervous, but then she really gets into it. Deen knows everybody!

So detailed is this porn tribute that Lord’s version also incorporates the original’s B story, in which Basinger/Brielle’s character convinces a reclusive artist to surface for a retrospective. I think the original idea was to present the conflict between 80s superficiality and the artist’s integrity. In Lord’s version it seems like a massive inside joke.

“I’m sorry,” says JAMES BARTHOLET, OF ALL PEOPLE, turning down Brielle’s request, “I’m just not that vain.” He then voices a concern uttered by exactly two people in the cast but not borne out by any of her behavior: “Something’s changed in you. It’s like some outside influence has caused you to unravel.”

OK, if you say so. But indeed Deen’s kinks finally rub her the wrong way, when he invites hooker Nikki Delano to their motel room. Delano is, by this point in the movie, a breath of fresh air. “She’s feisty!” Delano says of Brielle, who has gone prudish and fled the room.

That every sex scene is similar, from the “dangerous” sex of James Deen’s mystery man to the ex boyfriend to the porn shoot to the hooker, should tell you a little bit about the priorities of this movie: all the sex is great and the girls turn the right way and we see just enough minutes of the angles we love best. What “9 1/2 Weeks – An Erotic XXX Parody” is trying to do is approximate the original enough so that the viewer can slide into a familiar narrative with predictable places to jerk off.

Nine And 1/2 Weeks Porn

Brielle then runs down the hall and does something tremendously unrealistic considering what she just turned down, and the movie ends similarly to the original.

If you have never seen Adrian Lyne’s version, don’t. You don’t need to see it. Plus, he’s got “Flashdance” money and doesn’t need you. See David Lord’s “9 1/2 Weeks – An Erotic XXX Parody” because it’s just about the exact same plot and chronology, but the payoff is way better, and you can get to home Basinger off Summer Brielle.

· Buy “9 1/2 Weeks – An Erotic XXX Parody” here

· Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Today in porn swag—late-nite double anal; Today in porn swag—Self-portrait with Lisa Ann
· See also: Adam And Eve

A “Lesbian Fetish Show” that Won’t Freak Out Straight Men

Sasha Heart's Lesbian Fetish Show
Sasha Heart shows us that lesbians aren’t just thinking about pet rescue anymore. Continue reading A “Lesbian Fetish Show” that Won’t Freak Out Straight Men

Porn Moratorium Preparedness Kit: What’s Hot When the Popshot Pops Not

nina elle moratorium-survival
After a few years of practice, it turns out Porn Valley knows how to handle the occasional filming shutdown brought on by an STD scare: now it is coming to terms with blame, compassion, and moving forward. Continue reading Porn Moratorium Preparedness Kit: What’s Hot When the Popshot Pops Not

OUTRAGE: The French And Their Horrible Tradition of Foot Shaming

Les Amants
Perhaps it is generations of bastard-cheese-fed Caucasians strutting the stages of the world performing “Les Miserables” in Frogface that did it (and Russell Crowe that threw Croissanwiches on the grave), but newly-unearthed photographs from the racy Louis Malle flick “Les Amants” reveal that France is just as ashamed of its love of feet as Germany and Japan are not of theirs of poo.

Foot shame, or l’horreur des pieds, is common throughout the salons and snuffalupaguseries of France, leading to widespread italicization. The helmeted Daft Punk, upon receipt of their 2014 Grammy for “Random Access Memories,” voiced the national shame when they said, “We cover our heads but we want to cover our feet more.”

But it was 1958’s “Les Amants” (“The Lovers”-Ed) that began kicking the toe-ball of foot-shame down the pedestrian walkway across the piedmont of Doubt and Regret.

Jeanne Moreau plays a bored upper-class housewife who dabbles with lovers and eventually runs off with a younger man. The movie’s depictions of boat sex (not goat sex: boat sex) shocked audiences in Cleveland Heights, Ohio, resulting in an obscenity case that caused Supreme Court Associate Justice Potter Stewart to declare of feet: “I know it when I see it.”

Les Amants

Here’s the kicker*: While the movie features Moreau straddling the piggies of her brie-snorting trystmate, the movie poster shows the same scene, except this time she’s holding her lover’s hands.

Les Amants

I called no one, and asked no one’s opinion of this matter, for this story. That is how important it is.

That is not to say the world’s sex positive community isn’t up in, er, arms about this.

“Trigger Warning: I feel unsafe and am calling you out,” one sex educator blogged about something else. “Sapiosexuals won’t stand for it and I am so lonely since I got herpes at the cuddle party.”

It was only after Louis Malle’s move to America that he began to be comfortable with what hE called “l’appendice du néant.” 1981’s exquisite “My Dinner with Andre” was filmed entirely under a table and made stars of the feet of Wallace Shawn and Andre Gregory.

See Also: Gram Ponante announces “Les Jizérables”; Memphis Monroe abandons contract stardom for poverty on streets of 19th century Paris

*GET IT?

Christy Mack’s Brutal Reality Show

christy mack reality
Christy Mack, War Machine, Duane “Dog” Chapman, and Corey Thomas

Christy Mack’s story is important and immediate, but the type of dialogue it should be provoking isn’t happening because all the players involved are compromised by their involvement in porn, MMA, and reality TV.

Mack, a porn performer, was beaten savagely last Friday, August 8, allegedly by ex-boyfriend War Machine, an MMA fighter who legally changed his name from Jon Koppenhaver. With Mack at her Las Vegas home was former reality star Corey Thomas (“Megan Wants A Millionaire”), who made it out with two black eyes and a broken nose.

UPDATE: Koppenhaver was captured a week later by US Marshals and the Simi Valley Police in his room in a Simi Valley Extended Stay Hotel. According to Wikipedia, Simi Valley is where Koppenhaver grew up. The community lies just to the west of Porn Valley and is also the home of the Ronald Reagan Library. According to police, Koppenhaver went quietly. In his room was loose cash and pizza./UPDATE

That these three professions share a similar echelon of both fame and fame-seeking behavior immediately compromises the message: Mack was severely beaten by someone who, if we believe her, might have killed her had she not escaped. What are we teaching people?

But because of a life lived on twitter, in tattoo parlors and gyms, in selfies and the relentless if inevitable quest for followers and fame that these jobs require, the simple and understandable fact of Mack’s poor choice of partner has been blown up to ridiculousness: “What did you expect by going out with someone named ‘War Machine’?” people ask. And “Did you expect your porn star girlfriend not to be fucking other guys?”

The titillation and squalor makes the Rihanna/Chris Brown incident look downright classy.

On the plus side, Mack’s fame has elicited nearly $60k in donations as of this writing, as well as an offer of free dental reconstructive surgery. This sort of thing would not happen to an ordinary battered wife who showed up at a shelter. And reality star Duane “Dog the Bounty Hunter” Chapman has vowed to go after War Machine, with whom he has a personal beef. Celebrity counts for something.

On the other hand, no one assumes a non-famous battered wife must have done something to deserve the beating.

But we are not asking why women stay with violent men, why is violence reinforced in men, and what is this we are confusing with love? Instead, because of the people involved, we are asking if the eventual Dog/War Machine smackdown is going to be on basic cable or Pay Per View, if some unscrupulous pornographer is going to offer to pay Mack and War Machine for a makeup movie, and if this isn’t some big publicity stunt.

I wrote the following article for Gamelink’s Naked Truth, detailing the events of August 8 and immediately thereafter:

Christy Mack Recovers from “Cursed” War Machine Assault

CHRISTY MACK Porn and MMA don’t need any more negative publicity, but in the wake of this weekend’s battery of Christy Mack, the public can be forgiven for concluding that inter-industry dating doesn’t work out for the best.

Mack, the Las Vegas-based pinup and porn performer, is currently recovering from serious injuries inflicted, she says, by ex-boyfriend Jon Koppenhaver, known professionally as the Mixed Martial Arts fighter War Machine.

Koppenhaver is at large and a $10,000 reward is offered by the Las Vegas Police for information leading to his capture.

CHRISTY MACK Koppenhaver, Mack says in a statement released on her Twitter page, arrived at her Las Vegas home early on the morning of Friday, August 8, where he assaulted her friend and then proceeded to beat, stab, and threaten to rape the 23-year-old performer. Mack says she was finally able to escape, running naked through back yards to a neighbor who helped her to the hospital.

CHRISTY MACK According to his WarMachine170 Twitter account, Koppenhaver was Hungry just before he arrived at Mack’s residence. Five hours later, after allegedly sending two people to the hospital (Koppenhaver tweeted that the other was a man — it is reported that former reality star Corey Thomas escaped with a broken nose and two black eyes — and internet speculation, of course, is that Mack was having sex with him), he felt Cursed.

wm

Koppenhaver did not tweet for the next two days, but then let loose with a series of disturbing posts on August 10.

I only wish that man hadn’t been there and that Christy & I would behappily engaged.I don’t know y I’m so cursed.One day truth will come out

The cops will never give me fair play, never believe me. Still deciding what to do but at the end of the day it’s all just heart breaking.

I’m not a bad guy, I went to surprise my gf, help her set up her show and to give her an engagement ring and ended up fighting for my life.

 

Adult industry support for Mack was immediate. She was an engaging panelist at an XBiz seminar I moderated this January, just before she won XBiz’s Best New Starlet award and just after hilariously infuriating the Lego company for offering a blowjob to whomever could build her the best Lego sculpture. She is a heavily-inked dynamo and a business-savvy free spirit.

Ivan, co-founder of porn star site network Puba.com, which hosts Mack’s site, said that, despite Mack’s outrageous presentation, she is very humble and down-to-earth.

She is one of the most generous people you will ever meet. And she never publicizes it. She lives her life with her animals and small circle of loved ones.

While Koppenhaver was roundly derided on social media and urged to surrender to cops, to commit suicide, and to not commit suicide, many comments on non-adult gossip sites suggest that Mack deserved to be beaten.

From TheDirty.com

I don’t feel bad for you one bit Christy, you are the idiot that decided to date him

 

From TMZ.com

Well deserved. Bet you don’t feel like celebrating being a hoe now, do you?

 

Perhaps the most chilling read is the Twitter feed of a man claiming to be Jon Koppenhaver’s “brother,” whose handle is AlphaMaleSeeJay. His brother used the recent death of Robin Williams to Photoshop Mack’s bruised face onto her porn glamour shot.

CHRISTY MACK

Koppenhaver’s actual brother, Michael Koppenhaver, told the wrestling site BJPenn that @AlphaMaleSeeJay was a troll account, but also said that Mack’s account of August 8 was not entirely true.

War Machine had previously dated porn star Alanah Rae, and infamously beat up several party guests — including his agent, Derek Hay — at a 2009 adult industry event. The impetus was that Hay was not getting War Machine enough work as an adult performer.

I asked porn star Alec Knight, who had the misfortune of getting in the way of War Machine that night (and was hospitalized) why no one seemed to file charges after such a well-publicized melee.

“I tried to sue him for damages but he didn’t have any money that the lawyers could get from him so the charges were dropped,” Knight says. “Around that time he got into another fight that landed him in jail anyway.”

This opens up a bag of worms about why people who are so clearly unstable occasionally get a pass in porn.

“I hear that is what ended his career in porn but [it] didn’t stop him from associating with porn folk,” Knight says.

CHRISTY MACK

Koppenhaver, who legally changed his name to War Machine, said in an interview with BJPenn.com Radio that, following his release from prison on another assault charge, on of his motivations for success was to disgust the judge who had sent him there.

Yeah, I’ll always try my best so I can live and eat and stuff. But I want them to see more, just to piss of the judge and the supposed victim. I want them to see that I’m doing well and showing my face on tv. I want them to flip though through the channels and see my face and cringe. I want them to be disgusted with my success. I just want to throw it in their faces. That really motivates me.

It is easy to predict how the incident can devolve into victim-blaming, in that Scorpion And Frog way the internet has. Mack knew War Machine’s record of assault, volatility, and imprisonment, yet entered a relationship with him. “What do you expect from someone named War Machine?” more than one commenter posted.

Furthermore, that Mack and War Machine were actively sexting, retweeting, and promoting each other days before her hospitalization (Mack’s Fleshlight is also featured prominently on War Machine’s “Alpha Male Shit” website), that Koppenhaver had a public record of domestic abuse, and that both had the other’s name tattooed prominently on themselves (Mack’s read “Property of War Machine”) indicates mutual thrill-seeking behavior. The relationship wasn’t over in the way Mack’s statement attests.

Mack could have taunted Koppenhaver, shamed him, even initiated the assault. And yet none of that is justification for leaving a human being with (at last count) 18 broken bones.

CHRISTY MACK Porn stars and MMA fighters have been common sights recently (Jenna Jameson and Tito Ortiz come to mind, and MMA celebrities grace the AVN Awards red carpet in Vegas more and more). What is the appeal? Mutual athleticism and body consciousness sounds right, the energy of Vegas where both industries have hubs, and the similar fame accorded to celebrities of both entertainments seem to be factors. That War Machine was looking for work in the adult industry at one point also suggests that MMA fighting isn’t necessarily that lucrative — another instance where reality doesn’t measure up to perception.

Similarities aside, I am not aware of a single porn/MMA matchup that did not eventually result in a domestic violence charge. It seems like an unstable connection.

Friend Kendall Karson and other of Mack’s supporters have set up a fundraising site for her medical expenses here.

(“You need not be a porn fan to help Christy Mack,” writes Mika Tanon her Facebook page. “War Machine has not yet been apprehended. Call 911 if anyone has info on this piece of shit”).

We wish Christy a speedy recovery.

Switch Ending: Jean Franzblau’s “Coming Out Kinky”

JEAN FRANZBLAUIt wasn’t always this way, but it’s tough these days to avoid sexual memoirists. From titillating to TMI, there are at least as many carnal raconteurs to regale audiences with their exploits, humblebrags, and name-droppery as there are stages to host them, from storytelling nights (Bawdy Storytelling is my favorite), to blogs, to block parties where we find out too late that our neighbors are trying out swinging. The problem, I think, is that they come to us a little over-ripe, hardened, predatory, and overbearing.

“I get it,” we say. “You’re in touch with your sexuality.”

Into this crowded landscape comes Jean Franzblau’s refreshing solo show “Coming Out Kinky,” playing at Santa Monica’s Promenade Playhouse until June 8. This 70-minute monologue is as much of an exploration as it is a narrative, but it is confident without being boastful; it has nothing to prove, but something to say.

Franzblau’s “coming out” is gentle and gradual, as much a revelation to herself as it is to the people around her.
“Are you happy?” her mother asks.

“Uh huh.”

“Do you boss men around?”

“Uh huh.”

Franzblau is a petite, attractive blonde in her early 40s, a transplant from Hollywood, FL who came to L.A. to study acting. It is clear from her performance that she also took dance, as she fills the stage of the 50-seat Playhouse with easy, purposeful movement. Director Karen Aschenbach sculpts what could have been five static monologues delivered in a spotlight from a stool into a kinetic show.

JEAN FRANZBLAU

As her own sexual preferences make themselves known to her via chance encounters with her older sister’s copy of “The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty” to Craigslist encounters to “Lifestyle” Malibu happenings, Franzblau avoids being wide-eyed (that would get old fast, and eventually would seem disingenuous) and instead leads us through her journey with sobriety and humility, but with equal parts sass and gratitude.

“Professional pining has become my personal pastime,” she says, having arrived at the Unicorn level of the BDSM world: The Switch. Depending on her mood and her partner, Franzblau realizes she can be dominant or submissive, and she’s fine with either.

JEAN FRANZBLAU

“Coming Out Kinky” may not offer much bang for veteran scenesters, but those weren’t the people I saw in the packed house the night I went. This audience looked like it had come from comfortable coastal communities for an evening of palatably risque theatre delivered by a woman who could be its adult daughter.

Franzblau was not confrontational or vulgar; she could just as easily have been telling us how she finally went gluten-free, except she was talking about safewords and vaginismus. This is the type of show that might make latently non-kinky people a little more comfortable expressing their fantasies, seeing as how that nice woman from Hollywood seemed to turn out OK.

Franzblau has taken “Coming Out Kinky” on the road since this review was first published. She also presents workshops on a variety of touchy-feely subjects around the West Coast. Visit her website for more information.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: April Flores — an evening at the theatre
See also: Jean Franzblau

Seeking the Right Kind of Revenge Porn for Thomas Bagley

Thomas Bagley
Thomas Bagley

If it was legal for Thomas Bagley, Duke freshman, Phi Delta Theta pledge, and Computer Sciences and Mathematics double major to out his classmate as porn star Belle Knox, I’m looking forward to seeing how the world of porn, sex worker allies, and thoughtful people legally turn the tables on him. Here’s a consumer of the site FacialAbuse who — according to Knox — despite promising her not to share her identity when he realized the woman he was masturbating to was also his classmate, did the opposite. Now she’s famous.

I sought out Mike Kulich in a facebook post, and he took it from there.

kulich-bagley-belle-knox

mike kulichKulich is the owner of Monarchy Distribution and Skweez Media. He is the Pride of Westport, CT. He also gets a lot of digital ink and web traffic for sending porn offers to people in the news, like the woman whose name I’ve forgotten who’s suing her parents, the woman whose name I’ve forgotten who got sexts from Anthony Weiner, the woman whose name I’ve forgotten who made an AIDS joke about Africa, and Amanda Knox. He’ll offer them cash to film some sex act representative of their brief fame, the Huffington Post will write about it, and he will slowly but surely come to represent either the plucky spirit of American entrepreneurship or everything that’s wrong with this country. Oh, and also: The Jews. Sometimes I find what he does unsavory, but I can’t help liking Mike.

So when Thomas Bagley did what he did, I wondered if the likes of Kulich, with his media skills, might orchestrate some reverse revenge porn.

There are laws, born of need, that the framers of our Constitution likely never considered. Still, they were a bunch of smart guys, and I like to think they could be brought up to speed quickly when their brains are unfrozen from Cryo-Sleep at Sublevel 23 of the National Archives. There’s the Stalkerazzi law, of course, but then there’s the Revenge Porn law, which criminalizes releasing pornographic images of an ex.

Navigating fluidly right between these two barriers, Kulich sent an open letter to Bagley:

Monarchy CEO Mike Kulich Pens Open Letter to Thomas Bagley, Student Who Outed Duke Pornstar Belle Knox

Dear Mr. Bagley,

First off, I would like to thank you for being such a fan of our business. For someone who subscribes to a site like Facial Abuse I want to commend you for spending the $200 a week your parents send you every week for living expenses wisely. Facial Abuse is a great site! There is nothing like watching a new girl getting a huge cock viciously rammed down her throat. I like your taste!

I want to also commend you on getting accepted into Duke. Great school! I am sure your parents are proud. I bet you pull straight A’s when you’re not whacking it to Facial Abuse and Casting Couch movies. I love our fans and I love you! You are the type of guy that makes our business move.

With that I would like to make you an offer. As I sit here in my office at 6:30 on a Wednesday night I am writing a check for $10,000 to pay to the order of Thomas Bagley. I want to give you the opportunity to live out all your fantasies. In addition to that 10K, there is a plane ticket and hotel room with your name on it out here in sunny Los Angeles. Screw the polar vortex. Get your ass out and come shoot for us! I will give you the opportunity to bang ANY porn star you want. We will make you a celebrity because it is apparent how much you love porn and attention.

10 Grand is a lot of money for a kid like you. Do you know how many porn memberships you could buy with that? That is more than a lifetime membership to Facial Abuse!

I ask that you seriously consider our offer. Any girl you want! Come out to LA and become a star. ALSO, for every inch you are packing over 4, I will throw in an EXTRA $1,000. Get your tiny pecker out here and become the next Ron Jeremy kiddo!

All my best,

Mike Kulich
CEO
Monarchy Distribution
15303 Ventura Blvd
9th Floor
Sherman Oaks, CA 91403

Of course Bagley won’t do it (and neither, thank God, did Amanda Knox), but this is the type of flash-in-the-pan campaign that puts into perspective where shame should really be placed.

Privacy meant something different to my parents than it does to me, and what it means to my kids fills me with terror. But one thing is certain: the type of person who invades privacy is himself most vulnerable to it. I hope that the context of Bagley’s bout of mean-spiritedness doesn’t get in the way of the fact that it was an act of pettiness, disloyalty, and disingenuousness that doesn’t have a place in an academic institution or the workplace.

(Or, come to think of it, in Phi Delta Theta, in whose brothers Pledge Bagley confided his Facial Abuse fixation, and which prides itself on beings “the pinnacle of fraternal and professional societies, centered on the potential of each brother, the unquenchable thirst for personal development and the lifelong values of friendship, sound learning and rectitude.)

Kulich shared with me his dream for Thomas Bagley: Porn Star.

“[If] he can shame girls for doing porn,” Kulich says. “I can shame him for watching it.”