Speaking of Declines, I read a Village Voice column today that required me to rinse off afterwards.
Lonelyheart Rachel Kramer Bussel (pictured with Justine Joli, photo by Brenda Staudenmaier) was romanced and serviced by brooding director/Sin City shill DCypher.
“I dried her tears,” he did not say.
The game was afoot at the recent House of Ass launch party in New York City.
After reading Ms. Bussel’s turgid prose, which began with the heroine weeping on Third Avenue and ended with her squirting in a hotel room under the Fabio-esque DCypher’s practiced Sidekick-manipulating thumbs, I felt dirty and ashamed.
Was it because this act was perpetrated after some drinks but the sex in porn movies happens as a result of a financial contract?
Was it because they didn’t say goodbye to the party hostess, Tristan Taormino?
Or was it because there was a column about it, using the names of people who have sat in my living room, and that I got an e-mail advertising it? Are we Fleetwood Mac all of a sudden?
This is very Studio 54, baby. I’ve never divulged my liaisons with Bianca Jagger and Halston. We all agreed to just let it be groovy. In my day, we usually waited for one of the perpetrators to slip into a coma before we started chronicling our escapades with them.
I will notify Kurt Lockwood to make a movie about it.
Previously: Lockwood’s Decline to be celebrated; How to make an Absolut Ass
See also: Lusty Lady; DCypher; Adam & Eve
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