Tuesday Cartoon Madness
All posts by Billy Watson
Lil’ Miss Kitty, The Actor, and Me (Part 2).
Anyway, we’re sitting in the parking lot of my porno studio after dinner, and it was getting kind of late. And, as you can imagine, the neighborhood wasn’t the greatest. (What porno studio is in a good neighborhood?) And he’s telling some great stories.
I mean great ones.
I dunno if they’re the kind of stories that would interest you, but they kept my attention. Some of them were about actors he had worked with…some of whom that had been in Hollywood since the 40’s and 50’s. Some stories were about the real-life characters he had played in his movies. Some were about how he had pissed off directors and other actors off…and some of his stories had nothing to do with movies at all.
That’s when I brought up the memorabilia, cause I’m a geek-boy collector at heart.
“Hey, did you ever keep any of your movie props? Or clothes? Some of that shit is worth a lot.”
He never really did.
“You saved the vest, right? I mean that vest is gonna be iconic.” It might have been a silly thing to suggest, but with the billboard for the video game based on the movie looming right over us (really, it was…they put an ad on a billboard right in front of my place for the game), it seemed to make sense at the time. That’s when he confessed he had given it to an old ex, right after the movie was released.
“Holy shit no!” I exclaimed. “It’s not like that was Geronimo’s vest or something! You were the baddest bad ass in that movie!”
“Cochise,” he mumbled. Then, after a few seconds of hard thought, “You really don’t think it’s worth that much, do you?”
“Shit bro, did you see what John Travolta’s disco jumpsuit got at auction?”
I’m terrible. Really, I am. Cause I was just bustin’ his balls. Don’t get me wrong, though; I bet you could get a decent amount for the vest…but still. I was getting him all riled up more than anything else.
“Maybe I could find her after all these years and get it back,” he said, joking. We both laughed, and that’s when I noticed the three dudes approaching us. There were three of them, and I knew we were in trouble cause as they approached us, they broke up: one stayed on the street, one a few feet closer in the sidewalk, and the third walked right up to us and told The Actor, “Hey Holmes, gimme a dollar.”
My heart sank. I felt my knees get week. I had trouble thinking, and everything seemed to suddenly turn into slow motion.
Not so for The Actor. He maintained eye contact with The Dude and said, “Sorry pal…I don’t have any money.”
“Sure about that, Holmes?”
The Actor didn’t answer right away. “Oh wait…oh yes. I do have something. Let me get it out of the trunk.” He walked over to the trunk, and he kept his glare on The Dude, who was now back peddling and looking over at his friends. His demeanor changed, too. He was done being a nice guy.
“Shit! I thought I had it in the trunk! I know where it is! Just don’t move, cause I got something for you in my glove compartment. Gimme a sec while I grab it.” Then The Actor quickly glanced at me and said under his breath, “get in the fuckin’ car, Billy.”
Now The Three Dudes were standing together out in the street, looking at us. We jumped into the car, and The Actor started the engine, threw it into reverse, and almost ran them over as we sailed by. One of The Dudes held up his hand like he had a pistol and screamed something I couldn’t make out.
We drove around the blocks a couple times. “You got a gun?” I asked. “No,” he said. “Nothing good comes of them.” We talked about what just happened, and how lucky we were, and I thanked him for getting me out of a potentially life-threatening jam, and I complimented him on acting like a bad ass, especially after I acted like a big vagina. Then I realized I had left the door to my studio open. As in wide open. Which is a really dumb thing to do in any sort of neighborhood, let alone the one I was in.
This didn’t seem to bother The Actor one bit. “Shit, we’ll just have to go back and do a walk-through!” Which we did, and the whole time I dreaded it. The Actor seemed to enjoy himself.
After declaring it safe, The Actor reminded me again which Porno Princess he’d like to meet, then took off. I stayed up the whole night…worried The Three Dudes might just pop out from one of the 7500 square feet The Actor might have missed.
In Defense of Pornography.
Which is the way it should be.
This is a business where everyone seems to know everyone else, so rumors are flying: a gay-for-pay performer who has appeared in some straights scenes and, up til recently, advertised his services at Rentboy (“Pimp Yourself Now!” – Rentboy’s motto) is a bettor’s favorite for being Patient Zero — at even money.
He also dates a (former) female performer; in fact, there’s a handful of bi-sex scenes featuring said performers as they bang (and get banged) by various boys: June 25th – Today I’m debuting a brand new interaction shoot with the boy next door Cameron who brought along his real life girlfriend Casey to get in on the fun. July 2 – The games continues with Cameron and Casey. Watch us heat things up as we finish off our spin the bottle game and get to the real fun. July 10 – With the games over its raw action from here on out watch us takes thing to the next level before we wrap up this smoking hot shoot.
Raw action? Hmm. Unless I’m totally missing the something here, raw action means barebackin’ means sex sans condom means insane behavior in the world of gay sex between men — unless practiced by a monogamous couple who know each other’s sexual histories very well.
I’d like to add no one knows who, exactly, Patient Zero is right now — except Patient Zero and the administrators at the clinic where most of today’s performers get their monthly health check-up.
I’d also like to add that the two performers listed at Club Dean (“Cameron” and “Casey”) are, in fact, MIA…and removed from their agency’s web site.
Where there’s smoke there’s fire?
All of the people in Porn Valley make their living in a controversial, hotly debated industry. Sex is a controversial, hotly debated topic…especially in the great country I call home. I’m not so narrow-minded as to wonder why some people hate what we do; I wonder, however, why the people who attack us most viciously are often our best customers.
All jobs have their risks, and each and every sex worker knows what they’re getting into — whether or not they want to admit it.
A quick Google search to make a point:
Commercial Fishing: 129 deaths per 100,000 people employed in the industry and 61 injuries per 100,000 for 2008.
The Timber Industry includes loggers, lumberjacks, and helpers. It held the Number One spot for many years with 92.4 deaths per 100,000 workers in 2006 – a decrease from 118 in 2002. In 2008, fatalities increased to 116 Deaths per 100,000 workers.
Collectors of Refuse and Recyclables – Garbage Collectors and Professional Recyclers. These jobs have increased in numbers and have become deadlier. With the increasing number of businesses, dwellings, and vehicles in America, drivers and material movers are at increased risk of traffic-related accidents and/or being some other way injured by their machinery. Drivers of trucks and other sorts of commercial vehicles are more at risk as greater numbers of vehicles are put onto the streets as populations grow.
I could go on and on and talk about people who install power lines, cops and firefighters, oil and gas crews, cement makers, cabbies and chauffeurs, slaughter house employees and security guards…but I won’t.
People like eating fish; they’re ok talking about that, too. People like using products made from wood; they’re ok talking about that, too. Same goes for all the other jobs listed above…except when it comes to their masturbatory habits, which is something almost no one likes to talk about — let alone even admit.
There’s ways to make all workers safe…and safer. I dunno what lumberjacks do to protect themselves, nor garbage men, nor the fine folks who install our power lines.
I do know sex workers get tested every 30 days for HIV, chlamydia, and gonorrhea, as well as bi-annually for syphilis…and I think it’s time the male talent all start wearing rubbers, too. But that isn’t the case…yet.
The problem?
You silly pervs don’t like to buy safe porn. Kills “the fantasy”. Puts an “artificial barrier” between the actors. And, for you really twisted, sick fucks who dig interracial sex, how in the world can a white girl get knocked up by a black dude who’s wearing a rubber?
So Cal OSHA steps in, makes condom use mandatory in California; hence, all the producers flee Cal OSHA’s regulations (and Porn Valley) to places like Vegas and Miami…or, as I refer to them, the left and right armpits of America.
Not really. Gary, Indiana is actually the armpit of America. Well, that and Trenton, New Jersey.
I won’t shoot porn where it’s illegal to shoot porn, which leaves me LA County and New Hampshire, and I don’t see much of a porn scene there.
So, I’ll continue to shoot in Los Angeles, and I’m gonna keep my male talent pool limited to the dudes who, for the most part, are straight (yea, I’m laughing, too), and I’ll welcome mandatory condom use if (and when) it ever happens (don’t get me started on an actor’s First Amendment right to Free Expression, which includes the right to express oneself without using a condom) and I’m sure, like each and every HIV case I’ve made it through, this, like all other things, shall pass.
Mind if I keep ranting? Cause just a few days ago Madison Scott agreed to do a silly article appearing in my hometown paper, and it really pissed me off.
Once upon a time I wasn’t involved with the sex industry, and during that time I liked to beat off using pornography. It’s a great masturbatory aid — the world’s most cost effective masturbatory aid — and that’s all I ever used it for. Which is to say I fast-forwarded through the silly acting and dumb, dumb dialogue and went right to the fucking, where I’d FF through when it got boring, to the pop shot, where I usually popped. This took anywhere from 10 to 30 minutes, and at that time I’d either start, resume, or end my day (with a better-than-average night’s rest).
I also like to drink from time to time. I’ll gamble when I’m in Vegas (up to my loss limit of $50)…but I’ve never, ever smoked a cigarette.
I know lots of people with drinking problems. A lot of them smoke while they’re drinking, too. In fact, it’s taken the life of more than one of my family members.
I know lots of people who gamble. A lot of them smoke while they’re gambling, too. In fact, it’s taken tolls on relationships (and bank accounts) of more than one of my friends.
Gambling, smoking, boozing, and beating off are just a few things that make life worth living. They’re super fun to do (well, I can’t argue for smoking, but I’ll take it from the smokers), as long as you do them within reason (except smoking, which, at last count, is killing 1200 people PER DAY), and while I hate to see people let their vices ruin their lives, I’m certainly not about to advocate outlawing them.
I am an advocate to population control, and I think smoking is doing a great job of that…but I often wonder why the Shelly Luebens of the world aren’t spending their time eliminating smoking, which, in addition to killing a while bunch of people, is draining our health care system. I mean how about at least help the Porno Princesses quit smoking, Shelly?
Well, cause it’s easy to point the finger at porn.
Are you getting tired of my rant? Cause I’m getting tired of writing it…but real quick, lemme add something: before I got into porn, I couldn’t imagine what would make a cute, wholesome girl commit filthy, despicable acts for the world to see. Before I got into porn, I thought The Bang Bus was real. Before I got into porn, I really thought someone held a gun to Linda Lovelace’s head and made her suck a bunch of cock. Before I got into porn, I really thought Traci Lords was stoned for 3 years straight and didn’t know what she was doing.
Before I got into porn…
If you took the time to read Madison Scott’s story, let me clarify a few things: she didn’t make a million dollars in porn, and she didn’t spend anywhere near that on drugs to cure herself from STD’s, and she didn’t spend anywhere near that on drugs to party with; in reality, I never saw one dirty AIM test for Madison Scott (and I’ve looked at MANY) and I know Madison Scott didn’t party to excess (she was too busy taking care of her little girl).
I do know Madison Scott feels like she has a lot of explaining to do (mainly to people who don’t give a shit about her) about her porn career, and instead of just telling people something like, hey, I fucked and sucked a whole bunch for a lot money, and now I’m broke cause I never really learned how to manage it, let’s just tell something The People want to hear. Something that will make sense to Them. And make me, Madison Scott, look like a good girl who made a terrible, terrible mistake…such a big one that I’m gonna ask The Big Man to forgive me — cause that’s the only way The People will.
Besides, how else am I gonna get my kid good daycare after everyone finds out I was a porn star?
OK — rant over. I could go on and on. I was gonna address my friend Mark G. from Down Under and his silly statements attacking porn, but they’re so ‘tarded they don’t even justify being addressed, and I’ve ranted enough, and besides, I got the new Superchunk record, and it’s way better than I thought it was gonna be, which is a great surprise, so I’m gonna so listen to some ‘Chunk and enjoy the rest of my Saturday editing porn and listening to music at unhealthy levels.
My poor ears.
But, in the end, when I’m a deaf old man, and I can’t hear what the nurse says to me while I get my sponge bath, I’m gonna blame myself — not the music.
Drunk History: Abe & The Slaves.
Happy Birthday John. (Tweet birthday wishes today @IPTower).
Cause Everyone Likes Toons!
The Girl in a Panda Mask
Proof That Lack o’ Pussy Fucks With Your Game (and other random thoughts).
God damn it I can’t believe I waited so long to jump on the Twitter Bandwagon. I’m a slow learner, though…always have been. I have a short attention span, too…so whether it’s related to books and music, Wilco or Wayne Coyne, Ivy Winters or Tara Lynn Foxx, Bill Maher or Michael Moore, I can get all the info I need without wasting a whole bunch o’ time. Plus, the nudie shots Miss Winters posts give me a boner.
We Are Plastic Ono Band was, hands down, one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. They played The Orpheum last weekend; I caught Friday’s show. I don’t care what you think about Yoko. First off, she didn’t break up The Beatles, and secondly, Julian Lennon is OK with her now…so you should be, too. Besides, when’s the last time you saw a 77 year old rock out and dance all over the stage for a couple hours? I still haven’t figured out what I liked best: Vincent Gallo’s humble crooning, Perry Ferrell’s I-wanna-be-Morrissey look, Nels Cline’s fucking awesome guitar, the crowd singing “Give Peace a Chance” with Yoko to close the show, or — of course — Iggy.
Speaking of shows, Weezer is doing some sort of gig where they’re playing their first record and Pinkerton…and that’s it. For the most part, that’s all The Weez anyone really needs. Pinkerton is my very favorite record they’ve done, so I’ll be there. I just wish Matt Sharp was still playing with them.
I’m getting called out as a fink by more than one person as I start to recollect my relationship with The Actor. “With friends like you…” one reader commented. I took an Ethics in Writing course while I was doing my grad work, so I know all the arguments, but you really start to think about it when you’re writing about real people you’ve done real things with, especially when there’s a readership. Not that I have a lot of readers, but there’s a few of you. Like I said…not a lot. Anyway, after some thought, I’m sticking with the stories about my times with The Actor — good and bad. Not like there’s gonna be lots of blogs about The Actor. Maybe one or two more. When I have time to jot them down.
And how about my death threat?! Did you guys catch that one? It’s in the comment section when I blogged about Black Cock Sluts. Someone with poop in their pants about the content I direct — specifically black dudes railing white girls — wants to “cut my throat”. I wonder…is that even a death threat? I mean I suppose I’d eventually die if I didn’t get immediate medical attention from a cut throat. But the actual act of cutting a throat does not kill someone. It’s not like Poopy Pants wants to cut my head off, which we all know would result in an immediate death. So I dunno if I could call the comment “w” left an actual “death threat”. But I suppose so. What is it with all the hate some people carry around with them? And I wonder…just how did Poopy Pants find my blog in the first place? Perhaps he belongs to Blacks on Blondes already? Like I said before, most of The Hate comes from a feedback form found in the members’ area…which, in the most ironic of ways, makes perfect sense. I guess.
I still haven’t gotten any further with my profile on OK Cupid, and I read the comment a reader left saying I should ditch OK Cupid and try Match.com. A friend of mine echoed that, saying something along the lines of OK Cupid is free, and it costs some dinero to join Match.com, and if you’re shelling out money to join a dating site, you’re probably looking for something beyond poking your dick in some yummy poon tang. She should know, as she’s on Match, and she used to be on OK Cupid, and she’s doing OK on Match, and all she ever met were “weirdos” on OK Cupid. So now I’m thinking Match. Not that I’d let anyone sway any decisions I make. Uh huh.
I have 4,452 songs on my iPod, and Ted Nugent’s “Stranglehold” just ended with AC/DC’s “Back in Black” following immediately thereafter. I bet have have less than a dozen songs in the same genre as the two I just mentioned. Could someone who’s really good at math could please figure the odds of two so-bad-they’re-awesome metal songs playing back-to-back in a randomized, 4,452 song rotation? First one that does shall be issued a 30 day password to the world’s greatest hand job site — Manojob.com
That should get the right side of your brain all hot n’ bothered.
Video of The Year…Hands down.
Interview with a Porn Star (#79) — Lizzie Tucker
Lizzie Tucker: I was graduating high school. I’m from Dallas, Texas.
ISP: I lived in Dallas for a while. Weird, weird town. I used to go to this weird flea market under I-35 that started at, like, 3 am. Right under the highway. Once this dude tried to sell me a handgun that was “untraceable, in case you ever needed to off somebody”. His words. I think it’s the only city in America a President could get whacked…and the killer could get away.
LT: Yea, it’s my home town. I like it.
ISP: How did you make your way into the adult biz?
LT: I came out with AJ Estrada. We’ve been room mates for two years. One night we were watching “Zack and Miri Make a Porno”, and we decided we were ready for our next adventure in life: porn. We went online and found our agent, but there was one problem. I was only 17. I had to wait another month to pursue my dream of becoming a porn star.
ISP: I was waiting for the first “Zack and Miri” girl!! Is that what you want? Porn Stardom?
LT: I don’t know to be honest. I just want to see how it goes, and so far it’s going pretty good.
ISP: Was there anyone famous you’d like to bang when you hit porno stardom? Like Jay or Seth Rogen?
LT: I wanna bang Owen Wilson. I’d bang Matthew McConaughey, too.
ISP: Any crazy sexual encounters you’d be willing to share before you jumped into adult?
LT: When I was 16 I fucked two dudes who were brothers. New Year’s Eve. They were my boyfriend’s best friends. My boyfriend was upstairs at the party, and I was having a different kind of party downstairs with his best pals. Happy New Years!
ISP: What’s your favorite fast food?
LT: I don’t eat fast food. Shit’s nasty.
ISP: Does dick size matter?
LT: Umm….yes. For me, it has to be at least…I like ’em big. If it’s any smaller than 8 inches, I won’t enjoy it.
ISP: Shit. That means we’re doomed. You’ll never like having sex with me.
LT: (Lizzie laughs. I didn’t).
ISP: How many scenes you got under your belt?
LT: About 25.
ISP: Any one scene you particularly didn’t like?
LT: I did a party scene one time, um, and my male talent was kinda cute. I stick my hands down to jack him off and get the scene going, and my first reaction was “Where is it?” It was seriously this big (she holds up her pinkie). I’m gonna feel so bad if the dude reads this interview. He’s gonna think I’m a bitch.
ISP: How often do you meet strangers off the internet and bang them?
LT: I may be porn star, but I’m not a slut.
ISP: How do you feel about being referred to as a whore?
LT: I would say haters can hate, but I know what I am.
ISP: Whores should be everyone’s favorite thing. Any hobbies?
LT: I play volleyball. I did in high school, and now I just play sand volleyball on the beach. I want to play in college…when I get there.
ISP: Why aren’t you in college now?
LT: I’m focusing on my porn career and saving money. I want to pay for college with my porn money…hopefully I’ll study photography and history.
ISP: That’s a great idea. I hope you actually follow through and do it.
