Backstage at the XBiz Awards: A Night of Heroes

I am not saying that the Porno-Industrial Complex does not deserve to honor itself or that pornfolk do not deserve recognition for their hard work, but I can’t shake the feeling that adult awards shows, with their Lifetime Achievement honors and Man of the Year trophies, seem like kids dressing up in their parents’ oversized sportcoats and ball gowns and putting on a show in the barn.

“…and watching white guys mack their pimpness to doormen isn’t how I want to spend my time,” added Blueblood.com editor Amelia G. (seen here with the amiable Forrest Black).

I enjoy adult awards shows. They are charming. But last night’s XBiz Awards, last month’s AVN Awards, the XRCO Awards and all the various Kucinich-level adult award events are all the same gig albeit in different venues with differing amounts of money behind them. The audience’s tenuous attention to its host at the inevitably tardy start rapidly unravels by the 20-minute mark.

By the end, most of the audience has drifted away, the presenters are calling for attention, and the majority of attendees remaining are just in earshot in case their award category is coming up.

How often have you heard Billy Crystal tell the Oscar audience to “Shut the fuck up”? It happens all the time at adult awards shows.

That said, I always have a good time, because I’m hanging around with everyone else in back. As Porn’s ambassador to the outside world, however, I imagine the wry and winking, bemused and condescending takes visiting mainstream reporters might have on such events – mostly because I hate competition in the Bemused and Condescending department but also because I have tender feelings for this business.

The XBiz Awards were held at the Hollywood Highlands, a popular nightclub adjacent to the Oscars’ Kodak Theatre. XBiz Conference attendees needed only to walk across the street from the Roosevelt Hotel and climb the stairs. Inside were several bars and a large VIP area. I heard there were snacks there, but I left coldcut-free because I kept bumping into people I knew.

One was Veronique Vega, whose new haircut reminds me of a healthy Amy Winehouse that I want to debase and hook on drugs. She is part Puerto Rican and part Tahitian. I wonder if we’re related?

Here is intellectual filmmaker DCypher getting into a shot of Halcyon Styn and Ashley Steel. It was the couple’s six-month anniversary.

“I am a Buddhist,” DCypher said.

People might argue that adult personnel are an army of rebels and free-thinkers who can’t sit down and shut up due to their boundless energy and First Amendment patriotism. Those people might have been correct about this as few as ten years ago, but if they’re still saying it they’re dummies. Now it’s nothing more than limited attention span coupled with nothing to pay attention to.

Tommy Gunn and Ashlyn Brooke attended the awards, squabbling over who looked better.

“I have full breasts,” Brooke noted. “You lose.”

Nina Hartley expertly handled three different gan interactions in our two-minute conversation. Each fan left with a remarkable sense of well-being.

Casey Parker pinned Holly Randall to the unyielding brick. She couldn’t do it to me becausae I was holding the camera.

When last we saw Tori Black, she was crawling all over Sindee Jennings in pasties. It was a magical time for us. But I finally got to talk with her with clothes on.

“Glad you have your clothes on this time,” the 5’9″ Seattle native did not say. She has only been in the business for a few months, she said, but wanted to make clear that, though her scenes might be hardcore, she is still a lady.

“People forget that women are elegant,” she said.

Svengali in training James Bartholet proposes something distasteful to Veronica Rayne.

It is very important the world sees more of Ava Rose. I hope she’s off tomorrow.

This unintentionally arty photo of Michael Lucas and Titan Media’s Keith Webb was one of several camera accidents. I explained to Lucas that his excellent Intern was the only gay movie I have seen (other than Quadrophenia)and he quickly suggested several others. He didn’t seem to think I should quit while I was ahead.

I told Stoya I would put a picture of her on my website every day if I could. I think she must be some kind of witch; she doesn’t take a bad picture.

“People saw my vagina on your site and started e-mailing me about flashing people in Las Vegas,” she said.

“It can’t be flashing if you took the picture under the table with my camera while I was away,” I said. That wasn’t flashing; it was a gesture of love.

Here’s shrewd businesswoman Shy Love. Shy Love fans will be happy to know she is even prettier in person.

Pride of Nashua Heather Silk was set to appear in a “Pussy Party” before the shoot was rescheduled. I had never met her before but her dress sort of rides up that way, which I think is a plus. We didn’t have time to talk about the Orange Julius at the Pheasant Lane Mall.

Finally, Flower Tucci let me know in no uncertain terms that she’s into Satan, too.

“Let’s get out of here; you’re weird,” she said, which in that context was a huge compliment. I doubt she remembers it, but I gave up drinking three days too soon.

As Penthouse’s Marc Bell walked to the stage amid awkward clapping and the “Rocky” theme to accept his Man of the Year award, I bumped into a little white guy dressed in a pimp suit.

“Pardon me,” I said.

“It’s all good, brah,” he said.

It was all good. (It would have been better with a drink, though.)

Previously: AVN 2008 Wrap-up: I will never spread my commentary again
See also: XBiz