And that fat pussy.

You’re looking at the world’s oldest stroke fodder, which was whittled from a Mammoth tusk around 33,000 BC.

And you thought Nina Hartley was old school.

Caveman beat his meat, too. Poor, lonely Caveman, who couldn’t manage to club Cavegirl over the head and drag her back home.

The obsession with nekkid girls has been with man since Day One, and this just proves that point. They found this bit of Caveman Porn in a German cave. I’m surprised it wasn’t more elaborate…as in a Caveman pooping on Cavegirl, cause we all know how much those Whacky Germans love their Scheiße Movies.

Thank goodness for the internet when it comes to translating German to English. This is how I discovered “Scheiße”, cause — being a dumbass American — I was about to call them Schizer movies. As in German Schizer Movies. As in the kind Cartman’s mom starred in.

I also have no problem ending the last sentence in a preposition.

Anyways, they’re calling this the earliest example of figurative art, and I’m gonna call is the earliest example of porn, and I bet this was passed around during Caveman meetings, and after a furious session of Paper Rock Scissors, one lucky Caveman got to bring it home and whack off like never before. And I’m sure one winner hoarded it, and never brought it back, and he ended up hiding it from his future Cavegirl…and there it sat for 35,000 years.

What a good hiding place!

I think I’ll go off on a quick tangent and talk more about Germans, especially how clean those motherfuckers are. I couldn’t get over it. No one fucks up anything. Even on the public transport. The restrooms are so fucking spotless I had no problem dropping a deuce in them, which, for me, is unheard of…I am a total Home Field player, and the second I’m forced to poop anywhere but home, I won’t — unless I’m on the verge of dropping the aforementioned deuce in my drawers.

Not in Germany!

I had no problem sitting my big, white butt all over their public toilet seats.

(Sitting or setting?)

There will be no disorder! Not even in the sex shops, which were spotless. And when I walked into one, there wasn’t a single creepy Cruisy Boi; instead, all I saw were hot chicks buying sex toys.

Is this indicative off all German sex shops? Or only the ones in Munich? I mean are the sex shops in Berlin filthy?

What gives?

And now that I’m in Prague, what should I expect?

“The Dark Knight?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “I’ve already seen it.”

“Me too.” I scanned the menu more. “Slumdog?”

“Seen it.” Then she said, “I wanna watch Milk! Or The Wrestler!!”

“Seen ‘em both,” I said. Then I saw something surprising. Most of the pay-pers cost $3.99, but they had one that was $9.99. Why? It hasn’t been released yet. It’s a premium sneak preview thing…see the movie before it even hits the theaters.

And the movie? The Girlfriend Experience starring Sasha Grey.

We looked at each other, and without saying a word, I shelled out the 10 clams.

10 doll hairs.

10 scheckles.

You get the idea.

I’ve always sat on the sideline when it comes to Sasha Grey.

I interviewed her once.

We took a trip to the gloryhole.

For her 19th birthday, I got Sasha some Big Black Dick.

After all that, I’m still not sure what to make of her.

Some of my friends had no problem stating how they felt about her: the first time I strolled into Adrianna Nicole’s apartment, she had a heavy bag handing from the ceiling, and right where you’d punch the shit out of it the words “Sasha Grey” were scrawled in white letters.

Time to take my stance! Here’s my official take on Sasha Grey: either she’s a genius, or she’s got quite a library of the “For Dummies” titles.

Existentialism For Dummies.

Surrealism For Dummies.

Jean-Luc Godard For Dummies.

That sort of thing.

Really, I want to believe Sasha is the genuine smarty-pants she comes off as. Really, I do. And I have no reason to believe otherwise.

So how come I feel there’s something fraudulent about her?

You probably know this, but whore mongers (AKA “hobbyists”) are always on the hunt for G.F.E. (girlfriend experience) when they’re buying their whore. G.F.E. is exactly that: share a glass of wine and some conversation as she rubs the tension of a long day’s work from your shoulders before a bubble bath and some french kissing and a round of passionate lovemaking.

To me, G.F.E. never made sense. If I’m gonna splurge on a whore, then come piss in my mouth, bitch, right after you tell me I can never please you in the sack. Spank me, make fun of me, fuck me, blow me…but for God’s sake don’t fucking close your eyes and make out with me.

Which is to say the last fucking thing I want from my whore is a girlfriend.

Some hobbyists prefer P.S.E. — “porn star experience” — which is a little more to my liking…if I’m buying a whore.

How did I get off on this tangent?

I was pulling for Sasha and The Girlfriend Experience the second the movie started. I really wanted to see Sasha transcend porn to The Big Time. I really wanted to like the movie, too. Who knows…you might like it. I mean I didn’t hate it…but it wasn’t very good.

The Girlfriend Experience was mediocre at best. I won’t give anything away, in case you do see it…except to say the most powerful part of the movie is the closing few minutes, when Sasha meets her Jewish, diamond-and-gold peddlin’ client.

If only the rest of the movie had 1/10th of the power that scene delivered.

Give Sasha the credit she deserves: she came to LA with a goal she achieved. That says a lot. But, as the credits rolled, I wondered why Soderbergh even cast Sasha? (I found my answer here after writing this). Was he going for authenticity? Cause if that’s the case, Porn Stars and Escorts ain’t even close to being the same Bird. Even though some of them are the same Bird.

I’m not out to shit talk Sasha Grey, but really, The Girlfriend Experience is poor.

Sasha Grey = Traci Lords = Nina Hartley = Katie Morgan.

Or, maybe it’s best to say Sasha’s mainstream acting ability lacks any sort of range…take a look at the pic I posted, and that pretty much sums up Sasha’s big screen acting debut.

It pretty much sums up the movie, too.

Oh well…at least I didn’t have to deal with traffic on Sunset to get to the Arc Light, then pay to park, and then shell out another sawski or two for popcorn.