I am a relative newcomer to the world of porn journalism, but I have seen my share of free promotional items, and Metro Fusxion’s gift bag in support of Pat Myne’s X-Rated both conforms to porn swag standards and exceeds them.
X-Rated has 15 hardcore scenes in it; seven originals which were shot over the past year, including vignettes featuring sweet, dirty, in a family way Missy Monroe, Sandra Romain, and Jada Fire, and eight additional scenes which had been nominated for various AVN awards.
The reason for the push is that X-Rated marks either Myne’s 100th or 97th title for Fusxion, an imprint he was instrumental in starting. I was stunned to find in my scrupulous and independent research that there is not a single American movie either on the Internet Movie Database or on the Internet Adult Film Database that is simply titled X-Rated.
After my research, I rested for three or four days.
I asked Myne if he would continue the series, but he said that this movie would be one of his last for Metro. He is stepping up work for another company, Third Degree Films.
You might remember Axel Braun’s similarly iconic X a few years ago, as well as Apple’s Operating System of the same name. Both are, to varying degrees, reliable sources of porn.
But back to the swag.
Perhaps you remember the tremendous amount of money spent on Sacred Sin, including a party at Eddie Van Halen‘s house (with a performance by same) and a swag box containing a watch and other goodies.
The Sacred Sin party was off the chart, frankly; it was an abomination. If Sacred Sin were a 15th century European explorer and the porn industry the remote island natives upon whose shores Sacred Sin washed up, the natives would first believe Sacred Sin was a god and then, in their low opinion of themselves, need to slaughter it.
Corruption also sponsored a party and its swag box included a butt plug and a nip bottle of Krol vodka, which was for about two weeks the official alcohol sponsor of the adult industry (I believe they realized their mistake).
The Britney Rears gift boxes were a hodgepodge of stuff people wanted to get out of their warehouses, as well as a nip bottle of Sutter Home (because, you know, wine is classy) for BR1 or Krol Vodka for BR3 (because, you know, Krol was free).
So in that the X-Rated swag, like the others, included a deluxe version of the movie, X-Rated also provided a limited edition signed copy, with a certificate of authenticity.
A co-worker in my office, who does not work in porn, said, “They should have signed it with splooge.”
“You infant,” I said. “We no longer say splooge.”
If you can prove you represent a worthy charitable organization I will gladly donate this movie to your cause after I watch it; because a signed copy of a porn movie – good as it might be – doesn’t have value for me. The gesture is valuable, however
Another in the X-Rated swag bag was a pair of sunglasses. This, I believe, satisfies the same role as the lollipop in the Britney Rears box or the butt plug in the Corruption package; I don’t believe I will ever use them. This might be because I already wear glasses (there are far more compelling reasons to have not utilized the other products).
The final item provided by X-Rated blew everyone else away. Neither a nip nor a fifth, but instead a huge bottle of something resembling the “urban” liquer Hypnotiq was included in the gift box, which smelled like an Easter basket.
You’re damn right I accept gifts from advertisers; anyone who writes about this business who doesn’t is really doing something wrong. That said, gifts do not influence my reviews or opinions. But I am not some kind of monster; when I review X-Rated in a few days, I believe I at least owe it to the producers, for their effort, hospitality, and kindness, to be drunk.
Previously: Dreaming of Snow and Heidi Ho; What to say if your load is soupy
See also: Metro
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