Old time cock and hole: “Risky Business” Revisited

If I offended you by the bluntness of my headline, Readers, I apologize. But it is important for you to realize that, even though Wicked Pictures spared no expense in locations or securing a replica of the red and white football jacket sported by Tom Cruise in the original “Risky Business” and all of the cast are now Scientologists, Wicked’s version is a porn movie.

Set a few years after the action of the 1983 original, Wicked’s “Risky Business” (written and directed by Brad Armstrong) finds the protagonist, Joel (Kris Slater) safely at Princeton University when he is once again pressed into service as a pimp in aid of Lana (Kirsten Price).

This may be the most vivid allegory of the porn industry by a parody yet; a movie about prostitution interpreted by people who have sex for money but who do not consider themselves prostitutes.

We are at one of my favorite filming locations in Los Angeles. The Linda Vista Hospital is one of those places that served a purpose other than filming at one time but now stays open only for filming, much like Johnny’s Restaurant on the corner of Fairfax and Wilshire. The Linda Vista has been used for porn movies like “Malice in La La Land” and “Corruption” as well as mainstream fare like “A Nightmare on Elm Street.”

Several buildings sprawl across a lot on St. Louis Street near downtown L.A., and there are other commercial shoots on different floors. Jealous crewmembers filming a janitorial supply commercial ogle Misty Stone and Alektra Blue as they text in their off-time. They look at Dane Cross, here to take part in a gangbang of and in Misty Stone, with anger and confusion. He has glasses.

The rooms and halls of the Linda Vista are just barely maintained, which is why a scene set in a cheap motel room is perfect here. There is some douche on the floor (that douche is not me; I am standing up) and some Cetaphil so that ladies’ faces will look especially jizzy in the hardcore still pictures. On the wall are posters from various Wicked and VouyerMedia movies, because those are what adorn the walls of cheap motels, apparently.

Armstrong orders the lights be cooled so that the scene suggests night. Outside on St. Louis, however, an ice cream truck stops by the park across the street and plays its jingle throughout th ensuing sex scene.

On the bed are Slater and Price.

“Don’t be shy,” Armstrong directs Slater. “Do some fingerbangin’.”

Kris Slater gets a lot of parts where he is asked to be mild-mannered, and Kirsten Price is one of a handful of contract girls left on the planet, so it is understandable why he might be tentative.

But male performers are like assistant directors; they alone have permission to touch the precious commodities of contract girls and turn them this way and that, angling them into the best light, so Slater must also make sure that Price’s denim shirt falls in such a way that she looks more like Rebecca DeMornay in the original.

“Just have it hang right over her pubic bone,” says Armstrong, “so grab her right there.”

When cameraman Francois Clousot finishes shooting the scene, Armstrong asks for more fingerbangin’.

“You won’t break her,” he tells Slater.

“But thank you for being a gentleman,” Price says.

It is twilight by the time I leave, but inside Price and Slater are still working on their night moves.

[hdplay id=1 width=500 height=400 ]

Wicked’s “Risky Business” will likely be a summer release.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: What would Bob Seger do?; Paige Turner reminds me of Daisy Buchanan; Humb Day with Lupe Fuentes
See also: Wicked

The Korn/Porn connection: Saving Us from Ourselves

Visitors to the last several Adult Entertainment Expos and other adult fan events are often surprised by the presence of evangelical groups like XXX Church and Pastor Ron Vietti’s Valley Bible Fellowship. But self-doubt and regret is as common and essential to the porn industry as the 400 threadcount sheets sold right across the aisle; why there are no vendors selling Cook Your Own Meth Kits there is the truly surprising thing.

Furthermore, unlike many adult studios at the cash-strapped show, these Christian organizations actually paid full price for their booth space.

“Really?” a member of the Valley Bible Fellowship (they sponsored the “Naked Truth” booth) said when I asked her if she’d paid full price for her group’s space. “Maybe we’ll try to get a discount next year.”

So it’s not as if the Porno Industrial Complex seeks out opposing viewpoints to strengthen and enrich its own platform, it simply needs the money. Anti-porn activist Gail Dines also paid for her ticket to the Expo.

I left the Naked Truth booth with several inspirational books, all espousing a kind of Christianity distinct from “organized” religion. After all, says Pastor Ron, “Jesus Christ didn’t sit in His pretty church building, all dressed up, and waiting for the people to walk through the doors.  Jesus Christ walked WITH the people!”

There have been a few adult performers who have drifted from the porn fold either into the flocks of the anti-porn movement or various “Born Again” ministries. Some stay. Others, like Sophia Lynn, drift right back out.

I find that some anti-porn crusaders are just as attention-seeking and maybe a little more dubious than porn itself.

While I didn’t get this impression of the Valley Bible Fellowship, I was intrigued by the book “Save Me from Myself” by former Korn guitarist Brian “Head” Welch. Korn’s nu metal sound isn’t something I follow, but I like rock autobiographies, even if I know how they’ll end (Welch left Korn in 2005, having found Jesus, though Welch sports a look that is like a vertical Pieta, so it shouldn’t be surprising). I was more interested in the debauchery that resulted in Welch devoting his life to Christ.

Sadly, like many books that end with conversions, “Save Me from Myself” seems embarrassed and mortified by its subject’s pre-epiphany behavior, so it’s hard to enjoy it. It makes sense that Welch would seem tentative about his backstage antics knowing—as well all do—what’s in store.

“Save Me from Myself” is a little like “The Devil in Miss Jones,” in which Miss Jones finds herself in Hell having not really enjoyed the life that got her there. The book has other porn connections. Korn hosted an early web show that featured porn stars like Ron Jeremy dropping by, and the band had early shows with a pre-Tera Patrick Evan Seinfeld’s Biohazard. Of porn stars, Welch writes:

From all that partying and recording, I learned something interesting about the porn industry—mainly that it’s very similar to the music industry. For one thing, it’s all about money, most of the people in it are depressed druggies and alcoholics. As a result, we had a lot in common with many of those porn stars. In spite of the similarities, whenever I was around those porn industry people, I always sensed a strong, dark, depressing feeling in the air that freaked me out a bit.

While I know my share of druggies and alcoholics within and without the porn industry, my sense of this business has never been one of pervasive darkness, although I do feel that way after watching Korn videos.

I am of the belief that by undercutting its own prices, selling out the back door, saturating the market, and generally being penny-wise and pound foolish, the porn industry is the author of its own financial problems, and is just a little delighted that it can pin its failing fortunes on piracy and the global economic collapse.

But I welcome the arrival of evangelical groups and anti-porn crusaders to adult conventions as long as they pay full price.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: The Pain of The Price of Pleasure or: Why you should consider an Aggie college; Indiana Jones and the Pussycat Preacher; Sophia Lynn goes back to the garden; Wankus goes into the light; Glory (Hallelujah) Days—”When They Were Sinners” See also: Valley Bible Fellowship, Brian Welch

MontagFoto 1.31.11

Brooke Banner may have one of the most perfect bodies in porn, and that is the calling card that matters in a business where the movies don’t make as much of an impact as the flesh that inhabits them.

In November, 2006, I was on the set of “Tru Lies,” a husband and wife spy movie that owed more to “The Pina Colada Song” than “Mr. And Mrs. Smith,” which had just come out. You see, there is a moment when the bored husband and wife, in a marriage running on inertia, discover that the other is actually an exciting spy. Unfortunately, there isn’t even a Scooby Doo cocking of the head in this movie to signify that.

The now-defunct studio was run by a very affable guy who, if I’m remembering this correctly, sold plumbing supplies but who also had offspring in the same school or soccer league as the offspring of the head of a major porn studio. This is how porn gets made.

The movie itself wasn’t great [see the review], but it wasn’t insulting, either. And that’s important. How many porn films squander our good will by managing—almost trying—to mishandle the almost-universally pleasurable and simple act of nudity? At least “Tru Lies” didn’t betray that sacred trust.

But what I remember from the set of that movie was the crew gasping when Brooke Banner disrobed, she was so delicious. That was kind of heartwarming. Banner is still around, as is the movie, though the studio isn’t.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: “Tru Lies”: Like “The Pina Colada Song” but with no dunes

Allie Haze IS “Dirty in the Head”

If the intriguing pornstress Allie Haze, former preacher’s wife from the Inland Empire, ever gets her own cop show in which she plays a brassy, conflicted, and hard-livin’—but honest and soulful—vice detective, fighting her demons while struggling as a single mom, “Dirty in the Head” should be the title.

Bonus points if it takes place in space.

I’d never met Allie Haze before I interviewed her at the Adult Entertainment Expo, and had only seen her in the Nica Noelle movie “Sinderella And Me,” but in that movie her performance couldn’t help but be eclipsed by an unexpected threeway between Jiz Lee, Wolf Hudson, and Dylan Ryan, even if Haze was on the cover.

But her story would be surprising even if I’d known her for years. We talked about virginity as an objective term, the darker thoughts of Christian ladies, and why the most important lesson one can get from a porn set is patience.

She was also wearing purple, which required me to excuse myself several times during our conversation, leave the Sands Convention Center, take an elevator to the top of the Stratosphere, and kiss the sky, because I am suggestible.

To hear Haze talk about her journey into porn is to hear echoes of the stories of Belladonna and Nina Hartley, who discovered something about themselves along the way.

“I was always dirty in the head,” Haze said, “but I never acted on it. [Porn] is liberating in that it frees your mind about other things, too.”

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: “Sinderella” or “Y Tu Jiz Lee Tambien”; Crucifellatio—its origin and basis in science; Wankus goes into the light; Equal time for false prophets

Things you can tell about Lily Labeau just by looking at her with clothes on

Is it odd that it was only five minutes before this story was posted that I saw what the porn performer Lily Labeau looked like naked? Maybe, but with some people you can tell they look great naked just by talking with them.

I have meaningful conversations with hundreds of porn stars a year. Because they are porn performers, I know that they are often naked. But unless they have a third nipple, a map of Middle Earth tattoo, or burns over 70 percent of their bodies, I have a very good idea of what they look like without clothes on, and needn’t look them up on the Internet immediately after talking with them. I think the Internet is a fad, anyway.

Besides, sometimes I happen to be talking with them while they have no clothes on anyway, so that also helps.

But though I have yet to see the State of Washington’s own Lily Labeau in a movie, I bet she’s really good in them. I sense it, for I am an empath. I have a strong feeling that, once you see her in this or any other video, you will want Lily Labeau to be your girlfriend.

At the Adult Entertainment Expo Labeau talked about her Nice Girl Who Happens to Like Sex nature, her urge to cuddle, and her unexpected hike up Washington’s Mt. Si; two miles up, two miles down, and all I could think was, “her thighs could probably crack a fire hydrant.”

While I don’t anticipate throwing people curve ball questions, I liked Labeau’s reaction when I asked her, a propos of nothing other than I knew she was from Washington, if she’d ever climbed Mt. Rainier.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Mark Spiegler—the last man working in porn; No Name Jane to start working with John Does again

Home for Eros Day with Dr. Suzy

I stood in the buffet line with Ron Jeremy and thought, “We are both eating the roast beef.”

We were in a massive loft in downtown L.A. for Eros Day XII which, in terms of manufactured holidays, blows Arbor Day out of the water. Our hostess was Dr. Susan Block, who was wearing a white sunbonnet and lingerie, and who acted as Queen Bee of a theatrical event that at various times of the evening involved crucifixion.

“Come! Let us watch as Venus is sacrificed for our sins!” cried Block to 40 in-studio guests and the folks at home, via webcam, as the juicy Misti Dawn, as Venus, was hoisted onto a wooden rack by director Axel Braun, playing Zeus.

Braun was there in honor of his father, Eros Day founder Lasse Braun. The younger Braun’s “Avatar XXX” just won Best Parody at this month’s AVN awards. He was smoking a Blu E-cigarette backstage, and I swear I thought he’d bitten off James Bartholet’s ear in a fight.*

“These are made by [RealTouch manufacturer] AEBN,” said Braun.

“No way!” I said. Those Carolingeans are masters at marketing vice.

The character of winged Eros was played by Michael Vegas, Misti Dawn’s real-life partner.

I’ve been to a lot of porn parties and many of them were great fun; fully clothed people mingling with the naked over drinks and snacks, but Eros Day made me yearn for a time I’ve never known personally: a late 60’s love-in where theatre was part of the sex.

Of course, only Block, her partner Max, and Ron Jeremy actually remembered the 60’s. As young, tattooed couples like Michael Vegas and Misti Dawn, Dane Cross and Sinn Sage cavorted for cameras and guests who had paid $250 for the opportunity, there were often more photographers on the bed than people having sex. That aspect wasn’t like the Summer of Love at all.

But this isn’t 1967 and will never be again. In fact, to hear some people talk about it, 1967 wasn’t even 1967.

Dr. Suzy’s Speakeasy is a movable feast; a sex salon that regularly hosts events large and small for a massive online audience and invited guests (the loft is in an undisclosed location near the 10 freeway). And Block presides over the festivities as a tireless mistress of ceremonies.

I caught up with Block towards the end of the night. She had just spent four hours in front of the camera, squeezing and directing to be squeezed the flesh of people 30 years her junior, and looking very good doing it.

“Eros Bless You,” she said.

“And also with you,” I said.

Wandering around the loft, which takes up half the floor of a huge warehouse, I visited the bar, an art gallery, an industrial kitchen worthy of “The Shining,” a wall of TVs broadcasting the proceedings from the bed, and several bedrooms. Many of Block’s staff live in style there, trading part-time administrative duties for room and board, in much the same way affairs are handled at Kink.com in San Francisco.

Perhaps because Block is in her 50s and her staff and guests range from early 20’s to 40’s, I realized that the difference in this event (and those hosted by Erica McLean and Nina Hartley and Ernest Greene) are significant and rare in Los Angeles, because porn personnel tend to have the same lifespan as those in “Logan’s Run.”

(I’m not saying that porn performers are killed off at age 30; they just tend to go back to nursing school. And the sight of people who watched in their first incarnation—without Tivo or the Internet—the shows now relentlessly parodied for diminishing returns, is rare.)

This multi-generationally groovy atmosphere would have been out of place at your family’s Thanksgiving dinner, but it seemed perfectly fitting when Dr. Suzy demanded I look at the 25-year-old Sinn Sage’s pubic hair.

“See how they just peek out?” the doctor observed.

“Let me get a little closer,” I said.

Between the 60’s consciousness and the millennial tattoos and ease around cameras, the average style I’d say was a late 80’s/early 90’s Adrian Lyne/Paul Verhoeven movie; the walls of old televisions and the random whippings of translucent, painted fucktarts made me think of deleted scenes that never saw the light of Blockbuster Video.

It turns out Sinn Sage performed her first on-camera boy/girl scene that night with an introspective man named Dane Cross.

When he put his clothes back on, I asked Cross about sex as performance.

“I don’t think about it,” he said. “I know the cameras are there, inches away most of the time, and I guess I’m happy that they’re there, but I don’t think of them in terms of what I’m doing.”

(In case you weren’t paying attention, what Cross was “doing” was Sinn Sage.)

“But do you think beyond the camera or the person holding it, to the people watching what (Sinn Sage) you’re doing?” I asked.

“Yes, sometimes, but then you run the risk of losing your concentration.”

Among the other guests were Carlos Batts and April Flores, the sassy Lily Cade, Chad Diamond, Janelle (whom I remember from my time as King of Steveporn), and the Rubenesque Kelly Shibari, most of whom were walking around with at least their tits out.

“These are natural, and huge,” Shibari pointed out, as if there was something wrong with my eyesight. “Go ahead: feel them.”

I have worked in the adult industry long enough to respect the double standards on which it is built, and some of these require a great deal of finesse to negotiate.

Were I to stretch out my hands and seize Shibari’s boobs as if they were the One Ring—even as she offered them freely—I would have risked being high-sticked in the teeth by her boyfriend, the pornographer Tim von Swine, who stood nearby.

Q. Isn’t it part of Shibari’s job to be manhandled by brutes like you, Grams?
A. Yes, but she wasn’t working just then.

So I couldn’t proceed, but I couldn’t say No.

To refuse a porn star who is presenting you her sweater cannons is not only an insult to her but something that casts doubt on one’s ability to remain America’s Beloved Porn Journalist; one mustn’t grab boobs willy-nilly, or even want to, but one must never slap them away, shrieking.

So here’s what I did. I visually checked in with von Swine, who said, “That’s what they’re there for, Pal,” at which point I hefted them from behind, as is my wont, praised their natural splendor, and called von Swine a lucky bastard, according to custom.

Later he said, “I appreciate that you asked.”

In addition to naked starlets flouncing around, also holding court was guest artist Scott Siedman, whose paintings adorned the walls.

Whereas Block’s talent seemed to lay in her improvisations, pronouncements, and general cat-wrangling, Siedman’s art was filled with whimsy grounded in a little sadness; at times Block’s living statues distracted from the art on the walls, but both combined to make a great evening.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Pornographers to watch out for; Reno 411—Strollin’ in the Brolin; Does Cyberskin April Flores dream of electric sheep?
See also: Dr. Susan Block, Scott Siedman, Kelly Shibari

*James Bartholet is an interesting character who won this year’s Best Non-Sex Performer award at AVN. I often see him with a glowing bluetooth earpiece, because he is a Man of action.

India Summer’s got the blowjob in her hands

India Summer spoke with me about the giving art of fellatio a few hours before she won AVN’s Best Actress award for her performance in “An Open Invitation.”

Summer, whom you can hear me refer to—inexplicably—as a “blowjob person” in the attached video, says she really relies on her hands in the delivery of a blowjob.

“It’s a hands-on experience,” she says, and twists her expressive digits this way and that.

I followed a theme I’d also employed on Ava the stripper when I asked Summer if she knew when the object of her intentions was about to unleash his vital fluids.

“Yes,” she says. “Vessels start to expand, things tighten in strange places…”

Summer’s award acceptance speech (which she delivered with co-winner Andy San Dimas), was very gracious, I thought, and reflected well on the adult business and on the movie “Open.”

PS: I will give a prize to the first legal adult who writes in to tell me what the significance of the background tune on my video is.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: “Open”—Capturing the elusive swinger; Strippers can feel you through your pants, I’ll be your Porno Camp Boyfriend, Andy San Dimas

A BJ for Effort: Fellatio makes the heart grow fonder

{The following story first appeared a year ago, but we revisit it because blowjobs remain one of the lowest-paying porn sex acts despite the fact that they require the greatest skill from the female performer.}

Because I am America’s Beloved Porn Journalist, I am sometimes asked for sexual advice, if not favors, from women. It is a perk of the job I take seriously.

It should be understood that I am not a sex blogger. I lead by example, you see, not thirst for power.

Some of my favorite sex writers working today are Nina Hartley, Carol Queen, Susie Bright, Jamye Waxman, Audacia Ray, Rachel Kramer Bussel, and Essin’ Em. They write well, know what they’re talking about and, most of all, have their hearts in the right place.

(I mention this because there are others whose writing seems to include a component of devouring their mate afterward or attacking their peers in the process of being “sex positive”; such predatory behavior is too often a symptom of the profession.)

Anyway, a dear friend of a dear friend asked me for some blowjob techniques, as well as recommendations of porn stars who did fellatio good, and that request ran right up against a feeling I have about porn versus real life.

Porn Sex Isn’t Real. When Jenna Jameson writes about “Making Love Like A Porn Star,” she underlines a logical fallacy; there is no lovemaking in porn videos, and couples who attempt piledrivers at home aren’t making love – they’re workout partners.

So my friend wants to know how she can improve her blowjob technique and my answer is:

  • Make him dinner
  • Make occasional eye contact
  • Keep constant physical contact

There is nothing more arousing than availability and eagerness. Maybe Tiger Woods is being shamed into attending sexual addiction counseling, but I personally believe that his straying from his deliriously attractive wife had more to do with the blatant availability of his cocktail waitress and porn star dalliances. Most thesauruses list “cocktail waitress” as a synonym for “available,” after all.

And, well, Monica Lewinsky.

If you present a persona that he wants to dive into like a heated swimming pool, Miss X, he will come in your mouth with very little effort on your part.

Q. But Grams, aren’t you downplaying technique?
A. Yes I am, Martha Coakley, because sperm is like the One Ring: it wants to be found. Your partner doesn’t want you to just kneel there with a Clench Your Teeth And Think of England look on your face; he wants you to appear as if you are acting on a primordial seed-gathering compulsion, like Lisa Ann as Sarah Palin coaxing the oil up from Alaska’s vast wetlands. Attitude is everything.

It takes so little (dinner) to let him know that you are on his side. A nice dinner scene should be an essential part of any couples’ porn movie.

(Lisa Ann is here presented as giving both good blowjobs and only-good-for-porn blowjobs in the same movie: you should never, ever face away from your partner while giving a blowjob in real life.)

That said, you can’t go wrong with any porn star who knows the trick to a successful blow job (or sex scene in general) is to simply make eye contact now and then while maintaining constant tactile contact.

Finally, make sure you take out your Nicorette first.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: I fucked a sex blogger; Jean Piaget and Japanese fellatio; Today in blowjobs – porn is not an assisted living facility; Night of the “Night of the Giving Head”
See also: Nina Hartley, Jamye Waxman, Carol Queen, Audacia Ray, Rachel Kramer Bussel, Susie Bright and, though she doesn’t write about male fellatio to my knowledge, I also like Essin’ Em

Strippers Can Feel You Through Your Pants

While porn is a visual medium, America’s strippers must also appeal to our other sensory parts, including the nose.

But unless they are the rattiest dives filled with menace and despair, I don’t really like strip clubs. I like it when everyone involved knows business transactions are taking place and that no one is meeting anyone’s mom. That said, I admire strippers, their hardworking ways, their hydrant-cracking thighs, and their single-minded (as well as single mother) mercenary nature.

More than anything, I like the way strippers and strip clubs tend to smell. It’s sweat, flecks of glitter, some low pile carpeting, and this delicious melon concoction that makes me want to listen to Warrant.

While many porn performers visit strip clubs as feature dancers, and while numerous porn stars came to their current jobs through being “house girls” at clubs around the country, the stripper/porn performer line at the Adult Entertainment Expo is distinct, and I saw little fraternizing between the two disciplines.

I spoke with Ava of Sapphire, the World’s Largest Gentlemen’s Club, as she handed out coupons at the Expo. We talked about the olfactory array she preferred as well as her reaction the first time she ground a leg a little too effectively.

Ava says “Thank you” in a way that made me feel like I was just another wad of twenties to her. Still, the information was necessary for my research, and I can’t wait until they open a peeler bar on Mos Eisley.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: How Francophone strippers aid conception
See also: Sapphire Las Vegas

Sunny Lane’s horn of plenty

I have asked so many porn personnel so many of the same questions (“If you were omnipotent, which nation would perish in holy flame first?” “Name at least 92 elements,” “Do I look fat?”) that I am often overcome with ennui. That is why at this year’s Adult Entertainment Expo I thought I’d ask the silliest questions possible.

Sunny Lane was the first porn star I encountered upon arriving in Las Vegas, and here is her response to “If you could be any animal, what would it be?”

It was after this answer, so calculated to coax every drop of semen from twin ballsacs and every dollar from a wallet, that I changed my strategy and focused (as you have seen in recent interviews) on porn stars’ ideas of customer service.

But whereas Chanel Preston and Phoenix Marie appealed more to my Let’s Cut the Bullshit style, I admire Sunny Lane because she works it so hard with a smile on her face. She is a dedicated employee of Sunny Lane, Inc.

Lane has met thousands of porn consumers, and her archsexpot manner must work; she was trailed by very eager fans everywhere she went.

Later, we’ll talk about Sunny’s role in what is shaping up to be the most (surprisingly) controversial movie of 2011, “Sunny’s Flying Pink Pig.”

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Sunny’s Flying Pink Pig—Caution: Filling Might Be Hot

Chanel Preston is living downtown, driving all the old men crazy

Chanel Preston, who won my Best Newcomer award, reminds me of the woman in the Thin Lizzy song “The Boys Are Back in Town.” You get the feeling that the narrator had a fling with her once, but now everybody is older, wiser, and still great friends.

At the Adult Entertainment Expo I asked as many people as possible about customer service, because I believe that a performer’s connection with her fans is much more important at a time when she can’t really depend on steady work from studios.

And so I asked Preston who her fans were.

“I find I appeal to older men more than younger ones,” she said, and you can imagine veterans from Schofield Barracks heading into Preston’s Honolulu strip club to see the type of woman traditionally painted on the noses of planes. “Each dancer has her own type of fans.”

Preston is not a slight and simpering thing, so you get the feeling that a lapdance from her is a full-bodied, significant experience that’s worth every penny.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Around the world in 4077 days with Chanel Preston and Eric Swiss

Phoenix Marie makes it easy to follow the rules

Phoenix Marie doesn’t want the bouncers to kick you out. She doesn’t want you to spend your last dime. She doesn’t want you to feel awkward about your lack of deodorant.

In our conversation at the 2011 Adult Entertainment Expo, Marie explained that there’s just a few rules a fan must follow in order for him to receive all the benefits of the abundant but tightly-packed landscape of Phoenix Marie.

“You have to smell nice,” she says, “and let the girl do the touching.”

Also: Try not to cry.

If you follow these simple rules, Marie says, you make her job easier.

One reason I’m glad the world has Phoenix Marie is that she’s all about the casual customer service; she doesn’t up the wattage artificially, nor does she make you do all the work. She just wants you to calm down and let her grind her ass into your crotch.

I would totally become a regular at whatever bar Phoenix Marie buys after her porn career if only it wasn’t the kind of place where I’d get the shit kicked out of me.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Anatomy of an Oil Orgy; POTUS Interrruptus

“Sexy Tales” at El Cid: Hartley, hoopists, and harlots

I am not going to say that last weekend’s AVN show was overlong, poorly produced, and patently unsexy; I’ll let everyone who was there say that instead. Tonight, on the other hand, vivacious hotel brawler Jamye Waxman hosts her monthly “Sexy Tales & Other Intimate Acts” here in fantastic L.A. at El Cid.

It is a funny, fast-moving, and sexy evening’s entertainment.

Waxman debuted the show last month. Tonight’s event makes use of the date—1/11/11—to explore the theme of “The One.”

“I’m just so happy that it rocks,” Waxman says. “I think it’s because there are performances that play on both the senses of sight and sound, and broaden the idea of what is sexy.”

Among tonight’s performers at the Spanish-style nightclub on Sunset Blvd. in Silverlake are Nina Hartley, Brian Mazo, Fogelfoot (NB: This is a band I am intimately connected with), and Hula Hoop dancer Suzy Lee Loew, whose performance last month was riveting.

“The sexiness comes from the confidence,” I think, says Loew, who sounded surprised that what she was doing was sexy. “Hula Hooping is a dance that’s integrated with my body, so I love my tool and my tool loves me.”

Loew was certified by a body known as Hoopnotica and performs with a collective called Machina Candeo. Tonight she will be performing to The Raconteurs’ “Hands.”

Tickets are five bucks, and the first 69 audience members (Get It??) receive a sexy prize.

What: Sexy Tales & Other Intimate Acts with Jamye Waxman, Nina Hartley, Brian Mazo, Suzy Lee Loew, Fogelfoot, Ian Denchasy, Diatomaceous Love, Mischa Allen, Melissa Coindreau, Shari Jones, and other special guests
Where: El Cid, 4212 Sunset Blvd.
When: 7 p.m. SHARP until 9 p.m.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Jamye Waxman hosts a sex salon at El Cid
See also: Sexy Tales on Facebook, Jamye Waxman, Fogelfoot

I will be your Porno Camp Boyfriend, Andy San Dimas

Andy San Dimas has one of the most refreshing noms de porn in the adult industry. There was never a time when pornstresses would name themselves according to a pet/street combination the way Secretaries-General of the U.N. do, but many people will choose Porn Valley streets in their names, like Jayna Oso, Winnetka McCracken, Mason, Sven Nordhoff, Bobby Rinaldi, Wilma Deering, Juelz Ventura, Roscoe P. Coltrane, Topanga Fox, and Tits Ronald Reagan Freeway.

Andy San Dimas has chosen a township miles east of Porn Valley, and an androgynous first name that kind of says Fuck You to anyone attempting to classify her.

I once mis-classified Andy San Dimas to my peril. I’d received a defective Vivid DVD that I couldn’t watch all the way through, and I only had still photos to go on. I ended up calling ASD a cougar because she was in a cougar-centric movie. This was before I knew her.

But as you probably know, one facet of cougar movies is the hot young chick who inevitably shows up to massage the older ladies’ feet, or whatever. That was Andy San Dimas. But I said she was a “go-to cougar” in my review.

Oddly enough, Bobbi Starr was also in that movie and was a few feet away from San Dimas for the interview below. I wonder if she wasn’t a cougar in the movie, either? If so, she has never mentioned it.

From what I have been led to understand, ladies become upset when you think they are older than they are.

Anyway, we will see in this interview that the ASD is an intriguing person with a certain darkness to her. In two minutes she goes from a sweet porn ingenue smile to a Johnny Rotten-worthy sneer. I like it. She says that, independent of the fans swarming into the Adult Entertainment Expo, porn personnel think of the convention as camp.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Perhaps Porn Valley needs a little “Glee XXX”; But it’s our cluserfuck

Report: Naked women in beds still soft, smell good

I feel bad, Longtime Readers, that my trips to Vegas are often documented in hindsight. It’s because things are so busy here; I’ve got to walk miles to get a stable Internet connection, I never get to eat on time, and I just can’t bring myself to drink well margaritas, choosing the Patron versions that cost 50 bucks and make me crash my car.

But this morning I woke up to Shayla LaVeaux, Cytherea, and Cheyenne Silver all soft and scented and lolling in the morning sunshine. I’ll tell you the story later. I’d tell you the whole thing now but I’ve got to go hang out with some lesbians.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Patience is a squirtue; Shayla’s MontagFoto
See also: Cytherea, Shayla LaVeaux

The Softening of Bobbi Starr

As you well know, Las Vegas is swimming with disease. Yesterday, when my hotel tap water emerged brown and viscous, I used my Internet-enabled device to learn that the city’s water quality is rated in the bottom five of U.S. municipalities.

And yet I’m here, with a stripper straddling and digging grooves in my leg.

The same duality compels Bobbi Starr, who detailed her regimen for staying as germ-free in Vegas as possible. In our conversation at the Venetian Hotel & Casino’s Circle Bar, she listed the steps she takes to remain “softened” and healthy in this godforsaken place, drawing an allusion to Susan Lucci getting come down her throat (watch the video; you will notice that I used the Circle Open/Close transition signify the Circle Bar).

And, attired in a trendy outfit designed to please as many people as possible simultaneously, she just might succeed.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Bobbi blows my mouth axe
See also: Bobbi Starr, Adult Entertainment Expo

Filthy Gaelic with Sophie Dee

It is a closely-guarded secret that Sophie Dee is not from our country, but I share a cosmic bond with the Welsh chippy that involves a combination of looking into her eyes and breasts at the same time as well as trying to forget she’s married to a big black dude (Lee Bang, so damn good in the upcoming “Facts of Life XXX”).

Anyway, this morning after communing with some birds, I demanded Sophie Dee talk dirty to me in Gaelic. Just like St. Francis.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Sophie Dee is not going back to Llanelli or: A Tale of two chippies
See also: Sophie Dee, AEE

MontagFoto 1.03.11

Here’s three charming people to start your year of random porn-related Monday photos. In 2007 Kylie Ireland directed a movie called “Submitted for Your Approval” and invited plush Bay Area kinksters Princess Donna and Lorelei Lee to beat and be beaten, respectively, for your edification.

Here Kylie explains the finer points of marital aid technology to Donna and Lorelei, who appear intrigued.

Lee appeared in one of my favorite movies of 2010, “An Open Invitation,”which will be feted in Las Vegas this Friday.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Even professionals benefit from dildo etiquette; 2010 Ropey Volleys—The Movies

The 2010 Ropey Volley Awards—Pictures of the Year

As I’ve been led to understand, pornography is a visual medium. Here, then, is a selection of the photos that helped define Porn Valley in 2010.

Tanner Mayes greets everyone warmly.

The only good thing about Sarah Palin remains Lisa Ann, seen here filming “Who’s Nailin’ Palin 2″ (with Evan Stone as her Secret Service agent).

Marco Banderas and Courtney Cummz are consummate, consummating professionals.

Chanel Preston (as Wonder Woman) doesn’t know what to do about Evan Stone’s Batman.

Bobbi Brixton shows restraint when observing Kodi Gamble’s wardrobe malfunction. I wouldn’t.

Smoke break with Kristina Rose.

Dana DeArmond delights Asa Akira but infuriates Keni Styles.

I love this picture. Ashli Orion and Lee Bang in “The Facts of Life XXX.”

On the set of “Here Cums the President”—and that’s a small crew.

Sabrina Deep accepts all comers.

Sasha Knox takes a break, but the guy she just blew has sawdust on his ass.

Sabrina Deep takes one last look at her face before there’s ropey volleys all over it.

Lexi Love diverts traffic.

Belladonna gets ready for the Army.

Tabitha Stevens and Kagney Linn Karter high atop Los Angeles. Sadly, they weren’t high atop me.

Lupe Fuentes gets externally lubricated.

Amy Fisher shoots her first Porn Valley porn.

Anjanette Astoria, making copies.

Cytherea squirts again.

Bring Me the Ass of Ashley Fires.

Bobbi Starr blows a grateful Bucephalus, the Horn of Fogelfoot.

The Greatest Photo of All Time. From left, Alexis Texas, Marco Banderas’ carne, James Deen, Flower Tucci’s abundance.

Sunny Lane waits for her closeup.

If I’m impressed with this view of Chanel Preston, Eric Swiss is just a little bit luckier.

Either intense drama or intense eyeliner backstage at the AVN Awards.

Jiz Lee, Dylan Ryan, and Madison Young our for a bite and a beer.

Jesse Jane is a princess.

You only need to see a little of Penthouse Pet Ryan Keely to gain great respect for the whole.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: 2010 Ropey Volleys Movies, People

The 2010 Ropey Volley Awards—Pornographers to Watch Out for

There is a lot of truth to popular attitudes about the porn industry, good and bad, and the choices that bring and keep people here can run from the unfortunate, to the noble, to the practical, to the desperate. Same as McDonalds or reality television (both of which are former employers of Yours Truly).

By and large, pornographers are middle class individuals who rarely vacation or turn down work, who both support and compete with their peers, and who are just as concerned with where the next paycheck is coming from as they are with whether this job is the right idea. Just like you.

The people below are a representative sample of what made porn fascinating in 2010, and who promise (or threaten) to be a significant part of the tapestry in 2011.

Person of the Year: Nate Glass

Nate Glass is a true believer. The founder of Take Down Piracy has strong opinions that porn should not go gently into the night of a complacent acceptance that piracy is here to stay.

“There’s no ‘alternative business model,'” Glass says. “The alternative is that you starve.”

Glass combs torrent sites, pirate sites, and tube sites, blasting illegal uploaders with DMCA notices. He’s also not afraid to mix it up with people within the adult industry he sees as consorting with the enemy.

His plan for 2011 is to persevere.

“Professionally, I’d like to get more content owners to utilize my highly effective and affordable service,” he says, “and [to see] fewer content owners making deals with the devil.  Personally, I’d like to continue to be the fly in the ointment, the monkey in the wrench, the Roddy Piper to Manwin/Jules Jordan’s Hulk Hogan.”

  • Read our interview here.

Boobie Shepherds: Kelly Shibari and Pete Housely

Only the returning ancient astronauts will be able to tell us if social media, particularly Twitter and its by-products, put more money in the nation’s pockets than it took away in time and self-respect. But Shibari and Housely have done a lot to harness the basic narcissistic impulse all porn performers share and both monetize it and employ it for the greater good.

“Something as simple as an #NSFW hashtag before a link to a picture of your ass goes a long way toward saying you have the public’s best interest in mind,” says Shibari, herself possessed of an NSFW ass.

Housely, with his PornstarTweet family of Twitter aggregators, has brought more of your favorite porn stars to Twitter than anyone, and the Las Vegas native has developed free products that help consumers and fans with the daunting task of keeping track of the wealth of attention-seeking naked girls out there.

“We have to find a way for porn stars to make money with what they would be doing anyway for free,” says Housely.

Honorable Mention: Philadelphia’s Jimmy Cooper. Cooper launched Starlet Sheets, a comprehensive guide to free—but not pirated—porn on the Internet.

Miss Congeniality: Kristina Rose

On the set of my brilliant, heartwarming, life-affirming, and upcoming “Facts of Life XXX” Rose remarked, to no one in particular, “Where would someone like me be if I couldn’t do porn? Work in an office? I organized orgies in high school. No fucking way, dude.”

While Rose had a reputation of being wilder than most, she is in person the sweetest person you’d ever want to meet. She writes thank-you notes to her fans, shows up to set on time, learns her lines, and works her ass off (though it always grows back).

And Rose (pictured with makeup artiste Glenn Alfonso) is not alone in being grateful for her job—I just happen to bump into her the most.

Honorable Mention: I also have great affection for the other Yeastland girls—I was blessed with a great cast—including Bobbi Brixton, Kodi Gamble, Koffee Brown, and Ashli Orion.

Hustlers: Marc Star and Marcus London

Talent goes a long way in such a small business as porn, but the lack of hard work and a positive attitude derail even the most talented. Star (seen here with Ashlyn Rae) is a longtime stills photographer who branched out into writing screenplays for Hustler parodies in addition to shooting his own line of nudes-out-of-doors porn, “Extreme Public Adventures.” He’s not reinventing the wheel; he just works hard and isn’t a dick about it.

Ditto London who, in addition to being a sought-after performer and director, has opened a filming location with buddy Tommy Gunn and has started a catering business for porn sets.

Sweetheart of Gamma Rho Lambda: Jiz Lee

Trained as a dancer (I long to make a movie called “Jiz Hands”), Jiz Lee  is a beloved figure in Bay Area pornography, appearing in nearly every porn movie made north of Santa Barbara County. And even if the San Francisco porn scene seems smaller than its southern neighbor’s, you must remember that everyone in San Francisco is required by law to appear in some erotic, dream-journal, transgendered, psychopolitical, grant-funded, patchoulli-scented, poetry slam porn once a year (even Ken Griffey, Jr.), making Ms. Lee’s achievement is that much more significant.

“People must approach you on the street up there,” I said.

“Yes,” Lee said. “It’s difficult, sometimes, when I’m recognized as I’m trying to [put the moves on] someone else.”

Mister Congeniality: Rocco Reed and Anthony Rosano

To be a successful porn dude is to balance lower pay, lesser name recognition, less attention, and fewer free drinks than one’s female costars. People like me walk right by you on my way to some vapid teen with boobs she got as an 18th birthday present. Meanwhile, you have to position that teen in the best light for two hours while she gets all the glory, and you don’t even get to fake your orgasm the way she does.

Also: to be a Ringbearer is to be Alone.

If you’re Anthony Rosano, you pass the endless time as your scene partner is being primped and cajoled by strumming guitar backstage. If you’re Rocco Reed, you find a mirror and just gaze into your own dreamy eyes. Point is, these guys work a lot and will continue to work a lot, along with the dozen or so dependable men in the business, because they take the job just seriously enough (and don’t pop early) without taking it too seriously. For down that road lies Madness.

Newcomer: Chanel Preston

Smart, funny, and present (despite being from both Alaska and Hawaii), Chanel Preston arrived in Porn Valley with a strong work ethic and a refreshing lack of porny affectations. A stripper in Honolulu, she also has really long legs.

Doppelganger: AIDS Healthcare Foundation’s Michael Weinstein

For all the complaining the adult industry does about the attention-seeking, poorly-prepared, dubiously-motivated AIDS Healthcare Foundation president Michael Weinstein, he seems a lot like, well, the adult industry.

Weinstein has become a popular target around Porn Valley for his campaign against Adult Industry Medical (AIM) Healthcare, expertly marshaling local media and government agencies in his fight to enforce condom use on adult sets and to question AIM’s efficacy as a testing center at the center of “self-policing” Porn Valley. But then he screws up.

No one disagrees when Weinstein points out that Porn Valley simply does not want to use condoms, but his nuisance lawsuits (AHF sued Pfizer in 2007, claiming Viagra marketing promoted unsafe sex, but the case went nowhere, as it was pointed out that the lawsuit came on the heels of Pfizer denying AHF’s funding request) and media-mongering seem pornier than anything contrived by the porn industry.

When performer Derrick Burts was revealed to have been the central character in an HIV scare-of-one this autumn, it was at an AIDS Healthcare Foundation press conference. Burts (who had performed in both gay and straight films) sat next to Weinstein and delivered a list of grievances against AIM, among them that AIM advised him not to go to AHF, and that they had not returned his calls at a particularly trying time in his life.

While AIM may have enjoyed an unhealthy lack of competition in the adult industry, with its deep ties to AVN, it is required to notify County health officials of HIV cases, which it did, and it did catch Burts’ HIV before it spread anywhere else.

That AIM may have hung up on Burts and not called him back is credible; that it advised him not to go to AHF is likely. Telling someone not to go to an organization that will whip up a self-serving press conference around a confused and manipulated young man seems like a good idea.

Of course, both organizations seemed to use—or not use—Burts for their own convenience.

Burts’ case against AIM (and for AHF) began to unravel when it was revealed he had spent time as a gay escort and believed that he had contracted the illness on a gay porn shoot in Florida, both out of AIM’s straight-porn purview. This did not help AHF’s case and only strengthened AIM’s.

Later, AIM was hit with a barrage of legal difficulties, amounting to paperwork SNAFUs, each as a result of AHF pressure on the County. Better funded, better represented, and better smelling than porn, AHF wanted AIM out of the way. But AIM is holding on, endeavoring to switch to for-profit status, out of the County’s reach.

This is troubling for a number of reasons, as the adult industry has always improved as a result of outside pressure. If that pressure is removed and AIM is allowed to operate without scrutiny, Michael Weinstein may have made things much worse. Lack of competition is unhealthy and un-American.

What will porn do if it gets smarter detractors?

Dishonorable Mention: FBI Special Agent Daniel Bradley outporned porn by botching the burning of a Belladonna DVD in the government’s case against Evil Angel studio owner John Stagliano. Similar prosecutorial gaffes got all charges against Stagliano dismissed.

Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Ropey Volleys 2010—the movies; Ropey Volleys 2009; 2008; 2007; 2006