…said the mountainous loaf of a security guard at Eroticist Films’ party last night at Hidden Secrets. He was watching Velocity Chyaldd smear herself with a bloody knife in important places. “I didn’t see that coming.”
I’d been to three parties before this one last night, each a grudging appearance with a long line and a diminished return. The final one involved showing up to a strip club with party passes, only to find there was also a guest list and that we’d have to pay 30 bucks to get in. Throwing a party at a strip club during a porn convention is as fun as throwing the NRA convention in a cemetery; it’s useless repetition without the payoff.
Anyway, the Eroticist Films party was held in a venue just big enough so I could avoid my enemies but small enough to always know where a bar was. Attending was a nice cross-section of pornische New York intellectuals like Zak Sabbath, his female doppelganger Mandy Morbid, and Audacia Ray, juicy Las Vegas resident Caroline Pierce, AVN Best New Starlet nominee Courtney Cummz, Avenue X director Joe Gallant, who was offering vision quest bus tours to the desert with customizable spirit animals, and Ms. Chyaldd herself, who presented an act more or less impossible to follow.
Sabbath is, aside from Michelle Aston, the only working porn performer with a mohawk.
“To what do you attribute the preponderance of fine-ass pu**y here this evening?” I asked.
“Art, Man,” Sabbath replied. “Women see Art, the blood rushes downward.”
“You know, Art Garfunkel might disagree,” I observed. “He’s playing at the Vegas Hilton, and cracka ain’t getting no tail.”
Impresario Ron Royster greeted guests like a combination of Mr. Rourke and Lemmy Kilmister.
“I don’t believe how many people are here,” said Royster, who had to turn people away and who was sounding like his own press release. “It’s like they re-routed the Pretty Girl Plane from McCarran.”
Indeed the event was, refreshingly, an anti-sausage party. It was a tofurkey party. I received so many offers of favors to sway my judgments in the karaoke contest that I felt like I could qualify for AVN’s health insurance. In the end, though, it was impossible to decide. “Stop blowing me,” I said. “You’re all pretty.”
Previously: Gang Bang double feature; Nurse Mika Tan just because; Meet Veronique Vega
See also: Eroticist Films
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