I’ll keep this brief: I want to say I cast girls based on their looks, but I learned long ago that’s a losing proposition. Why? Cause my “10” is your “7”, and your “10” is my “2”. And while I’m sure we can all define ugly, and we might be able to point out the ugly girl in the crowd, not all of us are gonna point to the same girl.

Where am I going with this?

Well, I don’t shoot ugly girls.

How about this: my old partner at Spunkmouth loves peroxide blondes in lingerie with huge bolt-ons.

I’ll take my Porno Princess looking like she’s about to go out on a first date.

But that’s just me.

Anyways, there’s a zillion cliches about what I’m trying to say, and I’m not going to bore you with them. Instead, I’ll say it again: Natalia Rossi is a piece of ass.

I like Natalia Rossi more than I like Indie Pop Rocks on SOMAFM.

I like Natalia Rossi almost better than the new Wilco record. (Buy the vinyl and get the CD free).

I like Natalia Rossi better than the blueberry/ricotta cheese pancakes Little Dom’s serves up at their Sunday brunch.

I like Natalia Rossi almost better than Wilco’s Monday night show last month at the Wiltern.

I like Natalia Rossi as much as I like Katie St. Ives.

And that’s saying a lot, cause Katie St. Ives is super fucking hot. She’s got the kind of look that says “Return to Witch Mountain” way more than, say, “I wanna jerk you off.” That’s way hotter, right? Well…wait. That might not sound appropriate. I’m thinking now it’s not too wise to cite a Disney flick on a porn blog, and while I should just highlight the majority of the paragraph and hit the DELETE button, I’m gonna go ahead and stand by it.

Just like I’m gonna stand by this: Wilco’s Monday show last month at the Wiltern might have been one of the greatest live shows I’ve ever seen. Seriously. Now, you know I’m Gay For Wilco, so you’re thinking this something along the lines of this dude can’t be serious…but I am. I bet I’ve been to hundreds of shows since my very first one (Van Halen, Celebrity Theater, Summer of ’78) to my very last one (Wilco, Wiltern, June 22 2009) and I’m gonna say those guys are doing shit that not a lot of musicians can pull off. They’re just six dudes playing as one, and that’s something really special.

Let’s digress. Wilco was way better than the Sonic Youth show a few years back, and they’ve been playing together for 20+ years; Wilco ruled over Johnny Thunders circa ’86 (but probably not circa ’76 (who was he playing with in ’76?)); Wilco was way better than the Chili Peppers / Pearl Jam / Nirvana show, but that’s mainly cause I caught that show in the parking lot cause I wouldn’t shell out $30 to the scalpers; Wilco ruled over The Who show I caught in 1980 that was stopped 1/2 through due to an electric outage during a summer monsoon for over 2 hours…and when they walked back on stage they fucking absolutely shredded Baba O’Riley; Wilco might not have been as good as Karen Finley jamming yams up her cootchie and screaming all sorts of disturbing things at her audience; Wilco walked over almost any Meat Puppets show I ever caught (20 or 30 of ’em between ’84 to ’92); Wilco was way better than Annabella belting I Want Candy in her purple mini and Indian moccasins; and Wilco’s encores were better than when the Chili Peppers used to put tube socks over their weens for their encores (which, almost every time, was Hendrix’s “Fire”); Wilco’s encores were even better than Eels covering “La Grange” after almost everyone had left the building and the house lights had come back up (a haw, haw, haw, haw, a haw)).

A haw, haw, haw, haw, a haw.
A haw, haw, haw.

Ah have mercy.

When I sat down to write today’s blog, all I knew was I’d give you some free dirty movies, so here they are:

Bobbi Starr gloryhole movies.

Bobbi Starr interracial sex movies.

But that’s kinda cheap, so I wondered what I was gonna write about, and I don’t have much time, cause I’m about to go on a walking tour in Prague called “The History of Communist Czechoslovakia” when I remembered I have a Bobbi Starr story. I dunno if it’s a good one or not, but I’ll tell it.

I was walking with Civilian Girl in a trendy, kinda-upscale neighborhood in Los Angeles when I heard someone yell, “Billy Watson?!”

I know I’ve told you this before, but I’ll mention it again: we sometimes refer to people who aren’t in the porno game as “civilians”, and this specific girl I was hanging out with is an old, old, friend who knew me long before I was Billy Watson…and will know me long after I’m all done being Billy Watson. We had just finished up a small bottle of wine and shared a dinner at a fancy-pants Italian place and were walking by the cupcake store when I heard my name.

That’s right — a motherfucking cupcake store. What’s the world coming to?

Anyways, it was Bobbi Starr and Dana De Armond, and they were both enjoying their yummy, over-priced cupcakes. Dana had one; Bobbi had two. They’re big cupcakes, too…so I kinda surprised me that Bobbi was tackling two of them. It’s something I would never do…at least not back-to-back sitting in front of the place.

Funny thing was, I totally checked them out as Civilian Girl and I strolled past their table, but I was being a creepy perv (my usual self) and only looked at their tits — Dana’s tits, specifically. I hadn’t even taken the time to connect the face to the tits I was staring at…so I walked by them without even knowing who it was.

Bobbi said, “it is Billy Watson!”

Civilian Girl got to meet porn stars. It’s funny, too, cause as we had left my very favorite record store to go to the trendy LA spot to drink wine and eat Italian food, Civilian Girl was telling me how, in another life, she probably would have been a porn star: she’s adopted, she’s a total slut, and, much to my surprise, she admitted to me that she’s a cutter. Right there in the car ride to dinner. I’ve known this girl for almost 20 years and she’s just telling me now that she’s a Cutter. Which is to say she cuts herself from time to time. Usually when she’s feeling down…or anxious. With something sharp. Usually on her inner-thighs, so no one can see.

Most of the porno girls I’ve shot who cut usually work their arms, which, to me, is really silly. Wouldn’t it make sense to self-mutilate by going to town on somewhere not so conspicuous?

(As I’m banging this out my very favorite internet radio station — SOMA FM / Indie Pop Rocks — is playing Elliot Smith. Serious! Irony?)

The members have rated Dana’s scene in the top 5 on the whole site; Bobbi’s scene that just went up is tops. As in number 1. So it should make sense that Bobbi and Dana usually get a few bucks more for doing a scene than some of their peers. Which is totally unfair, especially when some of their peers deliver a scene every bit as good as Bobbi and Dana.

But whoever said life is fair?

Bobbi saved one of her cupcakes for the ride home, and I know this cause they asked me to drive them back to Dana’s house. Or was it Bobbi’s? I don’t recall…but I do recall the conversation back, which included topics as diverse as Dana’s new braces and their potential effect on oral scenes, as well as the problems that come with performing double anal.

Bobbi and Dana jumped out and we said our goodbyes; we pulled away and Civilian Girl said, “Um…that certainly was interesting. You lead an interesting life.”

“I guess so.”

Annette Schwartz might be the finest adult performer ever. She’s certainly the best I’ve ever shot. She was so good on my set that when my mom called to see how I was doing that day, I put Annette on the phone. I mean why not?

Mom knows what I do for a living, and I’m such a momma’s boy I usually call her once a day, just cause my mom fucking rules. She’s not excited I’m Porno, but then again she wasn’t excited when I was Stock Market. She was very excited when I was Education.

I told my mom I wanted to marry Annette, and then I just handed Annette the phone.

“Hello Mrs. Watson,” Annette said.

I dunno what my mom said, cause she was talking to Annette — and not me.

“I’m sorry, but if I marry your son, I will take him away from you and we will go to Germany.”

So that’s why I’m writing about Annette now, cause I’m in Germany, and I just went to a Beer Garden, where I dined on a couple brat, a pretzel, and washed it all down with a mighty fine mug o’ beer.

Here’s some free Annette Schwartz interracial sex movies.

Here’s some free Annette Schwartz handjob movies.

It wasn’t too long after Annette gave this handie that the conversation I just told you about all went down.

Annette’s hands were clean when I handed her my phone.

Her agent gave me Annette’s e-mail before I left on my trip, but he told me it would take “forever” for Annette to answer if I wrote, so I decided against it. Besides, even though I love Annette, this trip is all about Everything non-porno.

Which is to say I need a break.

Badly.

The first thing I asked Ashli Orion to do was walk through the filthy alley wearing almost nothing at all.

“What if the cops drive by and see us? What if they stop?”

I reminded Miss Orion — my new favorite porn whore — that she’s not naked. There’s nothing illegal about walking through an alley in your panties and a super slutty top. “Just don’t let your boobs hang out,” I said.

“I don’t have any,” she replied.

“If they ask us about the cameras, just tell them we’re making a YouTube movie.”

She asked, “Why?”

“Non-commerce,” The Minion said.

The Minion is my PA, but you know that already.

The Minion comes with me to all the “pick-ups” we shoot. A pick-up is Porn Talk for the first 3 minutes of the dirty movie you skip through. It sets up the action.

But you know that already, too.

I didn’t really worry about the cops driving by; I was worried about the homeless dudes who live at the end of the alley. You can’t see them in the picture, but I knew where they were. But I had The Minion in my corner, along with Ashli, so I wasn’t all that worried. Besides, The Minion has a helluva choke hold that he flexes from time to time at his night job bouncing drunks out of the bar.

Ashli strutted her shit up and down that alley, Whore Style.

Suddenly, I had an idea. “Hey hun, you know you’re eating some ass today.”

Ashli looked at me.

“That’s pretty filthy,” I reminded her…which was a stupid thing to say, cause we all know licking a butt hole is fairly dirty.

“Un huh,” she said.

“Um…how about you strut your stuff over to that dumpster and lick it a little bit?”

Ashli looked at me.

I looked at her.

She looked at the dumpster.

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

“That’s dirty,” she said.

“You’re a dirty girl,” I said. Then I smiled. “But it would kinda make my day if you licked the dumpster.”

“That’s all it would take to make your day?”

“I lead a simple life.”

“Let’s see how I feel when I get there,” she said.

She worked the concrete wall. She leaned up against it and hiked her perfect ass into the air. She turned, leaned her back against that wall, took a long look both ways, and opened her shirt. She played with her nipples. She took another long look both ways down that alley before she pulled her panties to the side and rubbed her pussy.

It was wet.

I could hear it.

She strutted back and forth and made her way to the dumpster.

I looked at The Minion, who was keeping an eye on everything…including Ashli’s show.

She made her way to the dumpster and started to work that, too. She leaned up against it, and showed her ass off to my camera some more. She spread her cheeks wide — those purple panties pulled to the side — and showed her butthole off. She turned and gave the camera a pussy show. She spoke into the camera and called herself all sorts of dirty, filthy names.

And then, on her way to lick some butthole, she made my day.