Everyone say hello to new-cummer Chlamydia Caine.

I’m fucking serious.

Miss Caine is hot, too.

Why is it I’m having a hard time calling her by her first name?

Who’s next…HIV Bob?

This morning I jumped out of bed, tossed on a baseball cap, put on my fuzzy slippers, and walked to the coffee shop down the street from my house in my jammies for an iced coffee and a yummy muffin. Whilst standing there in my jammies I wondered — Does everyone in here think I’m The Crazy Dude?

I just bought a round trip ticket to France; I shall walk the streets of Paris in the Spring. This Spring. And practice my French, which shall be interesting, to say the least. My attempts to speak French as I roam those streets, that is…

I go to Prague in May, then there’s a strong possibility I’ll be in Hungary this fall. I’ve always said I would never make a dirty movie outside the Freedoms of my beloved country, but the idea of a Manojob European tour is starting to make me think otherwise; besides, there’s a Porno Agent in Budapest and god damn it her models are so fucking hot I simply can’t believe my eyes.

I didn’t care one bit about the Phoenix Cardinals and their trip to the Superbowl, even though that’s the city I still call home. Right before we got the Cards, Phoenix was hurting for football, and Bidwell knew it. We wanted a team so bad we took the Cards instead of waiting a few more years for a brand new expansion team. The result? Bidwell raised ticket costs something like 5X his first year in Phoenix, and, since then, we’ve had nothing but mediocre players coached by mediocre staff cause Bidwell is such a cheapskate. This year’s Cards weren’t any exception. They just got lucky.

Where the fuck did all the money go? I mean it’s somewhere, right? But the banks don’t have any, the governments are bankrupt, and everyone’s broke. It didn’t get burned up in some sort of bonfire at a Saturday night kegger…so where did it all go?

I’m pretty sure the pic I posted of the one-legged girl with the horse peeking out of a hole in the ground is Photoshopped. Not the leg, but the horse. But who knows. It just made me laugh really hard.

My old pal Jason Brown called me Saturday with a warning: LEAVE LOS ANGELES AT ONCE. I asked him why? “Billy, listen to me,” he said, now whispering. “Due to rampant identity thefts and check frauds, there’s going to be a riot around the half-time during the Superbowl. The electricity in LA will go out, and there will be riots and people will be killed. It will be on a massive scale. You have to get out of LA immediately.” I whispered back, “what happens if nothing happens?” He replied, “then you can call me an idiot.” But he didn’t whisper his reply.

The Phoenix Forum is April 2 – 5. I’ve blogged about it before, but one more time: it’s a conference for perverts like me who own adult websites, and over the course of 3 days we sit through seminars, talk shop, complain about how there’s too much free porn on the web, and sit around a pool and look at drunk porno girls who eventually take off their bikinis and run around like silly rabbits. They shut the hotel down to the general public, and it’s just pervs. I just scored a room! Why am I excited? Last year the rooms sold out in 12 minutes, and I didn’t get one. The Reservation Clerk just told me they’re gonna sell out this year in less than 10 minutes.

Now for a shameless porno plugs: this week at Blacks on Blondes Tatianna Kush gets DP’d by two massive black dongs; The Girl Formerly Known as Faye Valentine is now Faye Reagan and does a superb job blowing a dong at The Dick Suckers; Leenuh Rae sucks and fucks a big dong in a filthy public restroom that has a gloryhole drilled in the stall wall; and finally, newcummer Charlie Lynn jerks a dong at the World Famous Manojob.

That’s a lot of dongs.

With absolutely no dings.

Remember Jack Handy? He was the SNL character you never saw, but he’d give you some of his “deep thoughts”, and most of them were really funny? He’s a real person, by the way; he’s not Steve Martin, or Al Franken, or a person made-up by the SNL writing crew.

I have no idea why I just cut and paste that code into my blog, except it’s kinda cool. And I don’t have to prep a pic to post, either.

My deep thoughts aren’t funny. Well, I might try to be funny on some of them. But they won’t be anything like Jack’s. Promise. I just wanted to do this cause I wanted to blog, but I didn’t have any ideas to really flesh out more than, say, a paragraph. So here goes:

What’s up with Rush Limbaugh hoping our new President fails? When Bush was elected, I kinda hated him…but post 9-11, I really hated him. I hated that silly MoFo more than almost anything I can think of right now, but never once did I ever hope Bush failed. I think we need to try that fat fuck Limbaugh for treason. Serious. He’s spreading shit like this on our airwaves, which is totally treasonous, so let’s just get it over with and off him. Hang the hill-billy heroin eatin’ fat boy ASAP. And do it in a town square. Have a fish fry afterward. Catfish, preferably. Or cod.

I now weigh 225. Six months ago, I tipped the scales at 255. I had a hard time bending over to reach the strawberry-banana cream pie on the bottom shelf of the fridge to shove down my pie-hole whilst getting stoned with the beautiful Audrey Elson whilst watching the tele. Now I’m jogging, going to the guy, walking up the Hollywood Hills to the observatory, and doing yoga. That’s right, yoga. I can hold downward facing dog without a problem. Soon, I will be able to suck myself off.

I have not started my French lessons. The CD’s are sitting on my shelf, and I can see them from here, and I have no idea what’s keeping me from cracking that box open.

I have not started my screenplay. The Whores v. The Zombies will happen, though…at least in my head. Yours, too.

My friend Steve Steele makes super hero porn. I love it. By far the cheesiest, whackiest shit ever; hence, me gusto mucho. You should check it out…or at least look at a few trailers. I think I will write a full blog about it, soon.

I love our new President. I love that he got on Arab TV and gave an interview. I love what he’s about to do. I think he’ll do more in his first 100 days than Dip Shit accomplished in 8 years.

My pal Alec at F-ing Tee Shirts just whipped up a small batch o’ Billy Watson I Shoot Porn t’s.

I have three, and only three: a medium, a large, and an XL.

The ravishing Miss Brittney Stevens is modeling the medium.

The first three people who ask for one shall receive one: just e-mail me or leave a comment.

Oh, and check out F-ing Tee Shirts. There’s new technology that doesn’t require silk screens to make super cool shirts. According to Alec, it’s kinda like running a shirt through your computer printer.

How ’bout them apples?

[New note from Billy: they’re all gone, folks.]

I just had a typical Porno day.

It started with the star of my first scene — Nina Hartley — phoning me fifteen minutes before her call time. “I woke up this morning with a UTI, and I want to make sure I can give you a good scene. I can’t really take big black cock with a UTI, so I have to do something I haven’t done in 20 years and cancel the day of the shoot.”

I understood, and we re-booked the scene.

Then, the star of my second scene — Riley Rey — sent me a text message: Billy I’m fucking having the worst fucking day and a semi just rear ended the back of my car

This means she might have had a semi rear end her car, but, probably, she’s hung over, or fighting with her boyfriend, or both, and she certainly doesn’t feel like working.

UTI’s and semis. Boyfriends and bad days. Phone calls versus text messages. Does a porn whore with a 20 year history in this business have any more creditability than a barely-legal porn whore who’s been in the biz less than 6 months?

Suddenly, my day was wide open.

So, instead of making a couple of pornos, I watched a movie about two friends who make one.

Best friends Zack and Miri are in so much debt their utilities are shut off and they’re forced to burn trash in a steel drum in their front room in order too keep warm on a cold, winter day.

Why not make a dirty movie?

There’s lots of money in those!

Uh huh.

Zack & Miri make a porno was just OK. Hold off til it hits cable.

It’s a Kevin Smith film, and I’ve always thought his dialogue is more heavy-handed and forced than witty and realistic — even in his best films like Chasing Amy and Clerks.

Which is to say I enjoyed the real butter the Vista Theater coats their popcorn with more than Zack & Miri.

Wanna hear something cool? The Vista Theater is a single-screen indie movie house I can walk to from my crib that’s been totally renovated to its glory days from the 20’s; but, in the 70’s, it was a super sleazy porno theater; and, the decade before, Ed Wood Jr. had his office right above it.

Anyways, Kevin Smith cast real porn whores Traci Lords and Katie Morgan in his movie.

Traci Lords isn’t aging very well, but that’s no surprise.

Katie Morgan plays the not-as-dumb-as-most-of-them-are-but-close-enough-to-make-you-love-her blonde as well as she did to make the HBO execs fall for her a few years ago, but I’ll take the hardcore, Blacks on Blondes Katie Morgan over the cleaned-up, mainstream, HBO Katie Morgan any day.

Now, if I could only talk her into taking a trip to a gloryhole.