Phoenix Marie, the scorpion, and the tortoise

Because I only know her from our friendly Hell’s Angel/Mongol rivalry or our annual trips to Sturgis and the Laughlin River Run, I didn’t at first recognize Phoenix Marie on the cover of “Curvy Cuties 4.” But this happens often in porn – when the high heels are kicked off, the extensions taken out, and the semen chipped from the skin, we are often left with a different person altogether.

More so for Marie, because this airbrushed, horizontally reversed, and coy picture (in porn, all you have to do to be considered “coy” is to not be exhibiting your colon) doesn’t mesh with her utter frankness in person. Why, I could tell you stories.

Speaking of stories, I am particularly fond of the one about the scorpion and the tortoise.

A tortoise was preparing to cross a wide river when he was approached by a scorpion.

“Would you carry me across this river?” said the scorpion. “I will drown on my own.”

“I would, but you are a scorpion,” the tortoise replied. “I am afraid you will sting me.”

“Not me,” said the scorpion. “I know what side my bread is buttered on.”

So the tortoise allowed the scorpion to climb on his back and together they waded into the river. Halfway across, the scorpion stung the tortoise and the latter began to sink in agony.

“Why did you sting me?’ said the tortoise. “I was helping you.”

“I am a scorpion,” replied the murderer. “Stinging is in my nature.”

“You fucking asshole,” said the tortoise.

The scorpion, who could swim after all, daintily swam to the other side. He became an upholsterer and later wrote a slim volume of poetry called “Lenin, Dirtpipe Milkshakes, And Me.”

This has nothing to do with Phoenix Marie, unless you think of her as the tortoise and yourself as the scorpion.

“I’ll let you touch my ass,” she might say, “but don’t put anything in there.”

“Sure, sure,” you’d say.

Later, she might say, “I see that you are fucking me in the ass.”

And you’d say, “Sorry, but it’s in my nature.”

At least that’s what I’d say.