Tuesday, January 11, 2005
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Chickenmaster writes: "Luke is looking for a place to plant his seed. Read through the blog it's hilarious. I'm so scared after reading it of ending up a lonely 38 year old Jewish porn journalist that I'm going to get married to the first woman that shows interest in me tomorrow."
Bornyo writes: "Rest assured that when/if a woman responds to that, she will deserve everything that's coming to her."
JamesN writes:
Luke is unreal, an australian son of clergy who converts to judaism while taking up porn journalism. i'm not sure he'll ever turn out the next The Brothers Karamazov, but there aren't going to be many more great novelists if you consider that norman f---ing mailer and toni morrison are considered close to the best at their craft. the guy's just surreal and entertaining in the guiltiest of ways.
he's much smarter than most i'm familiar with, but missing some major functional component of consciousness/social intelligence. it's almost like he's incapable of the cunning and competitive intelligences adults generally use daily. if he has a ridiculous idea about something, he'll print it. he's completely honest about things he's smart enough to know will be deleterious to how he's viewed by the media-whores whose attentions he covets. the dude is so casual about talking about his disgraceful sniper-van, the lithium he takes, and other embarassing and sometimes pitiful or shameful things he experiences. it's like he's developmentally stunted at 12 in ability to gauge other's reactions to what he says and hasn't even developed the ability to lie when social grace calls for it---i think the guy's hooked on truth serum or something. or rainman.
But you could lock everyone from homer to the simpsons guys responsible for homer the second in a room and nobody could come up with a more unbelievable human being. Luke's bizzaro orthodox judaism manifesting itself in interviews with some 18-year old is classic and slices through "i get to have sex and get paid" answers like everything else and right to the tawdry details of childhood trauma or molestation. he can get anybody to say they were sexually abused, it rules.
Chickenmaster writes: My favorite Luke blog: "No heterosexual father looks at his infant son and dreams of seeing him someday standing in a church or mosque or temple, getting married to another man with sodomy on his mind. That's just how life is, and the sooner all you gay people acknowledge this, the faster the democratic party can get back on its feet and the sooner Hollywood can feel better about itself."
Smelly Monkey writes: "If Luke is open to the idea I'm willing to give it a shot, but he has to drop this Jewish nonsense."
We Were Five Miles Outside Of Barstow When The Prescription Drugs Began To Kick In
Dear Diary:
Days before I leave my house for any trip, I'm filled with anxiety and anticipation.
Trips to Las Vegas for the porn conventions overwhelmingly produce more anxiety in me than anticipation. This year was no different.
(My psyche views the outside world as the enemy to be debunked, says a friend who knew my father.)
We were five miles outside of Barstow when my prescription drugs (clonazepam, clonidine and a little lithium - have to keep that low because I've put on 30-pounds of water weight) began to kick in. I turned over in my seat and returned to sleep.
I didn't awake until we were on the Strip. It was 5am when Terri Redor and I checked into the Tropicana.
By 10:30am, I'm walking into Mandalay Bay and see massive lines (people, including exhibitors have to wait up to two hours for their passes). I strap on my psychic armor and get ready to go into battle.
Luckily, the press booth is open. I walk up and say my name. A woman, Sue Procko, tells the assistant I'm approved. Immediately my mood improves and though storm clouds threaten, I feel sunny.
Inside a few people tell me I've put on weight.
I return to my room after the show and go to bed and listen to Theodore Dreiser's novel Sister Carrie.
Arising at 7am and showering, I comb my hair in the mirror. It's been thinning dramatically since I lost my job at adult.com and can no longer afford those fancy Supercuts hair growth products.
Wednesday evening I get a call. Samantha Slater has flown into town. I walk two miles from my hotel through the cold and rain to the Imperial Palace (takes me 30-minutes of walking back and forth to find it). We sit down to the bar. I order water. She gets vodka and cranberry.
It's too strong. She has a sip and puts it aside. We catch up for an hour. She's only in town for 24-hours.
I walk two miles back to the Tropicana. I'm too cheap to spring for a bus, let alone a taxi.
I rest for 15-minutes and walk over to Mandalay Bay for the XBiz Awards. I'm exhausted. I keep expecting to lose my wallet, twist an ankle, get sick or punched and have my trip end in disaster.
Arriving at the Hard Rock cafe, I spot XBiz owner Alec Helmy with his dad. I'm ushered inside immediately, and run into a couple of my favorite First Amendment attorneys, including Florida's Larry Walters, who is 42 but looks 30. His wife is tall, blonde and beautiful. She's a computer programmer. She has a tattoo at the bottom of her back.
I hang with them for 30-minutes until my fright subsides and my confidence returns.
(Many porn attorneys are from Sicilian origins -- a guy in Chicago, Larry Walters, Greg Picconelli, etc.)
I wander around in the dark looking for scoop in the darkest corners.
I run into Jennifer Rosenblatt. Her favorite line of the convention is, "Let's talk about you."
A girl passes out. Jenn rushes to her side. She runs through the CPR checklist. EMTs come.
Brad Shaw makes a hilarious acceptance speech that makes people laugh. Otherwise, most of the presenters are ignored as the crowd gossips.
Thursday morning. Press registration is a breeze. Thank you Sue Procko and Andrew Munn.
I run into Avy Lee Roth. She's sweet. She thinks I'm the author of l-keford.com, who's written various critical things about her. Scott Fayner says she is not the daughter of David Lee Roth.
I tell her I am not Scott. She's a good sport.
Following in Paul Fishbein's handsteps, I wash my hands with soap about 20 times a day during the conventions.
I need to find a place to crash for the next three days. I call Rob Spallone. He says I can stay with him at the Bellagio.
Thursday afternoon, I have a burrito combo in the food mall at the Venetian. When it is done exactly how I want (no yucky vegetables in my vegie burrito, just salad and beans and rice and cheese and sour cream and guacamole), washed down with a lemonade, and accompanied on my headphones by a good book, I'm a happy man.
A few bites in, I spot one of my few genuine friends in the industry (he even bought my memoir hardcover) -- John Douglas. He gives me a ride back to the Tropicana.
I'm staggering around with exhaustion but we make plans to hit Danni Ashe's cabaret at 7pm and the Pure Play party at 9:30.
I gather my belongings and walk over to Bellagio, stopping every 100 yards to rest. I reach Rob on my cell phone. We meet in the lobby. I follow behind him and his friend to the elevators. Rob's sick. Nobody offers to help me with my bags.
Rob's room - 31626. Thanks Peter Kinsler. Rob's older brother Roy is resting on the couch. I drop down on Rob's bed as everyone leaves. I make no parties Thursday night.
2am. Rob returns. I stumble out of his room and take the cot. Roy sleeps on the couch.
I'm up by 7am. I'm at the show by 9am. I have to wait an hour to get in. I read Fyodor Dostoevsky's Notes From The Underground.
11:30am. I run into Rob. He says to call him before I leave the show floor.
I have to fight back the urge to get my picture taken with HIV-positive and Hepatitis-C-positive porn stars. Why are the sickest ones the cutest ones?
Now Missy Monroe is disease-free, I believe, and just adorable, but the things that girl does on camera...
3:30pm. I leave the First Amendment attorneys' panel. I'm staggering again. Not sure what it was all about. Perhaps how we as citizens can combat American's porno plague.
I call Rob and leave a message.
4:15pm. My Bellagio room. I dig out my candles. I can't find my kosher grape juice. I light the candles. I say the blessing. I say the blessing over wine but my cup has only water. I grab my loaf of bread. It's moldy. I throw it away. There's a $1:50 down the drain.
I find a left over piece from half-eaten room service. I say the blessing. I have a bite. I eat some peanuts.
I'm alone in the room. I stand up and walk to the window and watch darkness descend over a rainy Las Vegas. It snowed for a few minutes this morning while I was studying my Dostoevsky.
It sucks to be alone on the Sabbath. I've observed five of them in Vegas (skipping shows in 2001, 2002).
I sit on the couch and read Neal Karlan's book Shanda: The Making and Breaking of a Self-Loathing Jew. It's a one dimensional tale of how leaving one's Jewish identity is bad, making anti-Jewish jokes is bad, returning to one's Jewish identity is good, and the guiding rabbi is all-knowing. There are a hundred books like it.
Roy returns. He's freaking out. Rob hasn't returned his calls all day. That's not like Rob. Something must've happened. Something bad. Rob dropped dead of a heart attack. He got locked up the police. Something bad.
I give Roy one of clonazepam's (anti-anxiety). I put an announcement on my website that if anyone has seen or heard from Rob Spallone since noon, please call my cell phone.
8pm. Rob walks in drunk with Tommy Sinnopoli. They spent the day downing a bottle of Crown Royal whisky with Lenny Friedlander (owner of New Beginnings).
Tommy pulls the yarmulke off my head. "What's this?" he says. I snatch it back.
Rob and Roy fight loudly. Roy stalks out.
I miss Rob's dad Joe, a former semi-pro defensive lineman. He hasn't been getting out much of late. His wife works for Michael Esposito of Gentlemen's Video.
Mike doesn't carry a grudge with me even though I've run some stories about him by Anthony Fiato that were not flattering. Despite this, Mike always greets me with a smile and a funny story.
Tommy and I get along. He's one of the pioneers of the industry. He owned a company with Stuart Charles Segall and William Amerson in the 1970s and worked with the late Mafiosi Michael Zaffarano.
The first time I met Tommy (January 2002), he smiled at me and said, "The pen is more powerful than the sword."
Tommy says I can ask him anything. I just can't write it.
Rob orders steak and lobsters for three. They lead such a colorful life. I don't want to be stuck alone tonight when they are leading such vibrant lives.
I follow them to the Circle Bar at the Venetian, feeling guilty for violating the Sabbath.
Every time Tommy passes an attractive woman, he asks her the time. He says it is a great pick-up technique.
I spot a guy wearing a yarmulke at the bar. I don't say, "Shabbat shalom."
I shmooze for two hours. I see Gia Paloma collapse on the floor and the EMTs wheel her out on a stretcher and slide her into an ambulance.
I walk out in the cold and rain but the true chill lies beneath my jacket within my soul.
As Beethoven said, there are two wonders in life -- the starry heavens above and the moral law within. Neither comfort me.
Saturday morning. I don't want to be alone. I follow Rob into the New Beginnings ballroom for a free breakfast. I have a muffin and potatoes and a conversation with Christian Mann (Video Team) about moral dilemmas. How Cat Stevens abandoned the music industry to follow Islam. How does one work in an industry where so much goes on that one finds appalling.
I spot a bunch of old-timers who I've written have had connections to the Mob. Rob tells me to take off. I hang around. I read my book. I move about so I don't get kicked out.
Rob tells me I have to leave.
I do and come back.
Saturday afternoon. I pass Marc Bell Penthouse owner, with part-owner Russell Fry and head of film Don McDonald. It's the first time I've seen Marc without a suit.
They take a private jet back to Boca Raton (fastest plane outside of the military). They get home in three-and-a-half hours.
I make the cold dark walk back to the Bellagio in 30-minutes. I lie on the bed and gather my strength for tonight's AVN Awards.
At 7:30pm, I go down the elevators with Rob. He tips the valet guys from $10-$40 all weekend to keep his Escalade up front so he doesn't have to wait for his vehicle.
We join our comrades at the Center Bar. Porners are wearing their best but I am in the same black pants and black leather jacket I've worn all week. Shlepping a suit as I have always done for the awards seemed too much trouble this trip.
Paul Fishbein takes the stage for couple of minutes with Dani Woodward. Every year, every convention, Paul loses his voice. He sounds hoarse.
Tim Connelly looks vital and fulfilled. He does not look like a man who's contract as AVN publisher and editor is coming to an end. I spot him walking out with his girlfriend (?).
I try to figure out by body language if AVN VP Darren Roberts has a new girlfriend. Early in the night, he got down on hands and knees to straighten out the red carpet. These AVN guys work hard for their money.
I run into Mr and Mrs Quasarman (of Zero Tolerance). Q says that though he hates me, he reads me every day.
I have my annual chat with Penthouse journalist Eric Danville and his wife Abby Ehmann. They weren't able to show Eric's Deep Throat documentary Thursday night due to some obscure Las Vegas law about showing porn in a casino.
I walk back to the Bellagio and get into bed before 2am. My chastity and sobriety is in tact.
I miss sleeping alone on my floor. I'm tired from five days of bobbing and weaving with my subjects, getting close and then running away. I feel a certain unbecoming fascination with my subject. At the same time, I am morally repulsed. My spirit and body are at war. On the one hand, I lust for these girls. On the other hand, I can't condone what they're doing.
I want to rescue these fallen women and bring them up properly. I want to be their moral leader, particularly the cute young ones. I want to feel like I have something special to bestow on a woman. Once they get past their 20s, they're more likely to see through me.
Helpful writes:
Luke, When will you fully assume the mantle of "Moral Leader" and revise the Ten Commandments for the secular age? Your blog is as Moses tablets.
Khunrum suggests: How about never owning a vehicle that any self respecting Hispanic or other undocumented worker would drive?
I close the curtains on the city of sin and fall asleep to Sister Carrie.
Sunday morning, I run into Carly Milne. She's had an hour or two of sleep. She's wearing her sweats. She's wiped out.
I follow her to the Pure Play booth and claim my free bottle of water. It's an annual thing between us.
Carly introduces me to Tristan Taoromino of The Village Voice. Tristan was supposed to file her column last night. She did not. She had an hour of sleep before getting up and getting ready for her 10:45am interview with Teagan Presley.
Then Digital Playground publicist Adella called. Teagan was sick.
Now that she was showered and dressed, Tristan decided to come down to the show anyway. We discuss which girls we find hottest and which forms of plastic surgery are most repulsive.
I return home in the early afternoon.
Rob orders us all room service before the drive home.
I haven't had to put my hand in my pocket since I joined up with him Thursday night.
I tell Rob he'd be a millionaire if he wasn't my friend. My Internet column has cost him a ton of work.
Internext Pictures
Show floor. Seminars. XBiz Awards. More.
Hottest Girl At AVN Expo
Ray writes: You wrote: "AVN has a stunning slim blonde handing out its stuff at its two shows. I went to take her picture and she put her hand up. She said it had gotten her into trouble before."
Are you referring to the young blonde model in a white top (Redlight District)? If so, you're not the only one who thought she was stunning......I did too! She was handing out the AVN mags along with a pretty Asian girl doing the same thing. She was about 5'4. About 21yo. Kinda shy looking? Not very busty, maybe b cup? Light blonde hair, fair skin? I'm 99% sure we're talking about the same girl, hottest blonde in the place!! Haha. I knew I wasnt crazy when I told a bunch of guys that. She'd probably make a fortune if she eevr got recruited by Nici of Nicisgirls!! Whatever happened to her, btw?
Luke says: Nici is still in business. If this delicate flower started doing sex work, she'd lose her looks in a few months.
Best looking porn chick at the AEE: Mika Tan. High voltage. Also hot: Jessica Jaymes, Lexi Marie, Jessica Drake, Missy Monroe.
Hottest girl at the AVN Awards Saturday night: Australian Penthouse Pet of the Year 2000 Bree Maddox.
Bree was a Miss Universe Australia runner-up in 2000 and a Miss World Australia Finalist in 1999. In 1995, she was voted Miss Teen Australia.
Come on Aussie, come on!
Best looking couple at the AVN Awards: Jim South Jr and Holly Wellin.
Turner, the Drug-Sniffing Dog
Robert Lombard says many were popped during AEE.
Porn Star Make-Up
I don't think it's a pornwhore thing, it's a general woman thing. With make-up, less is more. The best make-up is when you don't notice she's wearing any - it's an old cliche, but it's true. When you're starting off with someone who is naturally good-looking, cosmetics should be used to emphasise and enhance those good looks, not obscure and re-paint them.
When Melissa changed her hair, as part of the whole makeover I felt she went a little overboard with the make up. I'm glad she's returned to the more natural look I adore. If it ain't broke, don't fix it!
Sometimes I wonder if some of these girls use make-up as a sort of mask to hide behind. Disregarding the porn context momentarily, if shown that photo of Melissa, I imagine her dad would proudly say "that's my girl!". I doubt Jesse Jane's parents would even recognise her.
Convicted Spammers
For a few years now I have been running my own simple spam tracking system. I own a domain and allocate new unique email addresses to every single company I have any sort of dealings with. Each address is used exclusively for communication between me and that company, and never disclosed by me to anyone else. If I receive any spam to one of these addresses, it can only have come either directly from that company, or from them passing on my address to a spammer. I have been getting hits from the following sites: absolutekim.com (Don't ask, I don't know what I was thinking either.)
* atmbabes.com, captainstabbin.com, climaxcorner.com (Just spotted this one, I'm still a member. Mental note: leech as much content as possible then cancel.), hotmovies.com, realgirlsonfilm.com, sinnistar.com, topshelfpussy.com
Porn sites with a clean record so far: oralamber.com, private.com. (This could still change - it was over a year after my cancellation that I started getting hits to the captainstabbin.com address.)
So there you have it. Based on my experiences, 80% of porn sites cooperate with spammers. It should be noted that billing companies are also in the loop with the email address, so it's possible that in some cases they are the villians and the sites are unwitting participants. Either way, some of these companies and the lowlifes who run them need to get busted, busted HARD, like put out of business. It's the only thing that will force the industry to take notice and clean up.
James DiGiorgio's Reflections On Las Vegas
Vegas seemed a bit different than last year. It seems whoever makes the decisions about the city's personna decided to abandon the family image feel (that they absurdly tried to put together the last few years) and have returned to the "Sin City" motif.
The hookers were as brazen and high-profile as I've ever seen them. Security in the hotels seemed more tolerant of tomfoolery. And the arrival of all us porn people didn't seem as stand-out-ish as in recent years.
That AVN show must be a freakin' cash cow of enormous proportions. It seemed bigger and with a larger attendance than ever before!
Heidi Klum is Betrothed to Seal Supermodel
Heidi Klum is engaged to be married to the black entertainer Seal. I know that according to the social norms of my kehilla, this should either please me (as per Disney, MTV, secular Judaism in general) or be of no interest to me (Torah Jews do not mind when two goyim of different races marry), and yet it does. When I look in the mirror every morning to shave the whiskers that my testosterone has erected from my skin, I still see a white man looking back at me.
Luke Raises Money for Dusky Victims of Tsunami
I am doing it for two reasons: to prove that a Jew can care about Hindus, Moslems, Animists and other impoverished dark skinned people; and because my interpretation of the written law compels me to do so. Please drop off any spare change/cash/valuables that you have to me at the hovel, or leave it with Mr Tim Connelly for trans-shipment. I am also in the process of converting a forty gallon drum into a pushka, so if you have a LOT of change lying about, I can accomodate you.
I spent most of the past week in Las Vegas seeking a wife so that I could lead a meaningful and reproductive life in line with my highest ideals.
I met many women of valor who I would've gladly taken under the canopy and made mine, but I was too shy to approach them. I feared they would think me too old, too broke and too creepy.
My favorite of all of them is that little Dani Woodward (see the way she gazes into my lens and tells me I am the only gossip columnist for her). She's the Jewish porn star for me.
It is very important in a porn relationship that religion does not come between you.
Saturday night, Dani won an award for Best Threeway Sex Scene.
I can honestly say that if I had to choose between hooking up with Dani, Barrett Blade or Kurt Lockwood, I would choose Dani.
Chaim writes:
I continue to be very impressed by this girl. I know I say a lot of snarky things to you in the course of these emails, or things that are not meant to be taken at face value, but this is not one of them: The odds are depressingly high that in two years time you will bitterly regret not having pursued her. You are just wasting your life as though it were a dress rehearsal for something else.
I talked about the great issues of life Monday afternoon with journalist Cindi Loftus:
Writercindi: I was there and you were there, never to cross paths
Writercindi: funny though, people would tell me, they just saw you when i asked if anyone had Writercindi: was at Summer & Craigs booth, they said you were over there a lot to see if craig was gonna beat anyone up
Writercindi: Did you get to see Mary Carey?
Luzdedos1: yes
Writercindi: and? no dating plans
Luzdedos1: none
Writercindi: you are shy.
W ritercindi: well i am glad to be back in SUNNY WARM ft Lauderdale! i left Vegas hotel at 8pm and arrived here at 8am this morning no sleep yet
Luzdedos1: I am a timid soul
Writercindi: You are not timid in print, just when it comes to women face to face
Writercindi: you need a big sister to give you advice and confidence around women. You are so gorgeous and smart and hot, it's a waste to not have a girl to share it with. Writercindi: ( lets see, for this answer Luke is gonna send me a smiley face, cuz he won't know what to say to a compliment)
Luzdedos1: :)
Writercindi: did ya get lucky with a porn star? ( Luke won't answer this question)
Writercindi: (or he will be evasive)
Writercindi: I kinda like talking for me and you
Writercindi: It's like talking to myself only better!
Luzdedos1: no sex, nothing. I didn't feel like it, like the whole bother and arranging and complications
No Money, No Honey; but No Syphilis, Either
Not only do I suffer from a brain disorder that prevents me from being more empathetic towards most of you, I am presently poor as well. This is not a popular combination for any man to present to potential mates. Still, there are other attributes to Luke that exceed those of say, a Howard Hughes (the biopic of whom I recently saw). What Hollywood does not want you to know is that Hughes suffered from tertiary syphilis, which is why he acted so strangely as he aged. I, on the other hand, am free of syphilis.
Ladies, whom would you rather date and mate: a billionaire with tertiary syphilis, or an honest but poor man who has Asperger's but who does not have syphilis?
I am a man. A man of 38. A man of 38 who is without a mate. Women think that this suggests that perhaps I am gay, but this is simply not the truth. I want to be married, to have a wife and children and the rest, but what are my prospects? Let's try to look at this clearly, and without bias or rancor.
Briefly, all women can be fitted into one of three categories:
1. Twenty-somethings. For purposes of procreation, these are, of course, ideal. They are pretty, as yet not too badly scarred by too many failed relationships with men (Luke believes that unlike men, each woman can have only so many such relationships before she becomes bitter and angry), and have a great deal of fertility left in them. So logically, I ought to find myself a wife from among their ranks. The problem is that among the Jews, from whom I would prefer to draw a wife, the women of this cohort regard me as too poor. And too old. Topping it all off is that most Jewesses who are available are intent on spending their twenties treating their vaginas like toys, even as the Muslim woman treats hers like a cannon. (It was reported today that the tenth most popular name in the UK is . . . Muhammad.) Yes, I could broaden my search to encompass gentile women, but they too generally regard me as too poor and too old (especially the mentally healthy ones not on meds).
2.Thirty-somethings. Alas, the best ones are taken by age 33 or so. What's left is there for a reason, and there is the fertility question hanging over the older ones.
3.Forty-on-ups. For obvious reasons, these women are of no reproductive interest to me.
So there you have my conundrum. What can I do to achieve the happiness that I deserve, happiness that can come only with obtaining a fertile wife of my own?
The Origin of Luke's Conundrum
A putative member of Luke's internet Kehila wrote the following: "I seriously think you are a latent homosexual. What else explains the misogyny combined with a self professed obsession with women? All the good women are used up by 33, yet you remain a single golden Jewish god at 38? How is this possible? Oh little lost Luke. I would almost feel sorry for you if you weren't such a complete ass. Did mommy lock you in the closet as a boy and make you wear her bra and panties? What the f--- happened to you? I'm not being judgemental, I'm honestly quite curious."
Well, Quite Curious, the truth is that there is a natural order, a sequence, to doing things in life, like becoming established in a profession or obtaining a wife, and those who for whatever reason fail to follow that natural sequence are in for a hard time when they finally get around to them. I know that I should have done these things in my twenties when other men did them, but it was exactly at that time in my life that I was incapacitated by Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. While other men my age were finishing up college, earning doctorates and looking for a wives, I was left to rot in a bed, barely able to listen to Dennis Prager on the radio. And by the time I began to emerge from this sickness, I had lost better than a decade of my life, leaving me a full decade older than I ought to have been for the tasks at hand. That's what happened.
I just wish I could have personally raised all of you in the correct path
As I ponder the responses to my conundrum, I am struck by how badly the women responsible for raising women of a certain age seem to have raised their daughters. Of course age and fertility matter. Of course few rational men are going to ignore what their loins are telling them by hoping for a biblical miracle. There is a sense of delusion within the mind of the secular Jewess concerning these matters that does not bode well for secular judaism. (Such problems are virtually unknown amongst the more practical orthodox, who correctly marry off their daughters while young and at the peak of their fertility.)
Chaim writes:
Shabbos in Vegas! Oh how I envy you. Did you know that there is a Chabad center out there? No doubt you will wish to eschew the Friday night/Shabbos porn circuit for the chance to dance and pray with the devout of Las Vegas.
Otherwise, I suggest that you meet with your secret sources in such places as:
1. Olympic Gardens. Hey, if it was good enough for the 9/11 hijackers (soon to be memorialized by our own Gov. Pataki) then it is good enough for you. But skip the lap dances - those are strictly for losers.
2. Carson Street Cafe at the Golden Nugget, which has the best waffles/pancakes in town.
3. Kinkos on Hoover, near the Stratosphere.
4. One of the legal brothels outside of town (but just for a drink).
I looked at that web site for the convention you are at, and there seemed to be an awful log of gay hijinks and sheananigans planned. Please confirm that you have not gotten sucked into that.
At this point in your life, which would you rather end up with:
a. a racially Jewish woman who is pretty and smart but otherwise really nasty?
b. a shiksa who is pretty and smart and also a nice woman?
Assume identical sexual resumes for each.
'I'm Going To Kick Your Ass'
Mike Albo writes on Adultstarsnews.com:
I'm getting reports from attendees and reading on the various gossip sites about all the feudin' and a-fussin' that went on at AEE. "Did you hear? Person X almost got in a fight with Person Y. RIGHT ON THE CONVENTION FLOOR!!!!" Oh, brother. If ever there were a group that was all talk and very little action, it's this one. Heated words and hard-ass looks might be exchanged, but, in the end, both parties wander off...to later snipe from the safety of a computer keyboard. In fact, in all my years in the biz, I can only recall a handful of fights. My favorites, of course, being Marc Star's confrontation with a certain Aussie. And, of course, my own with the same individual who delights in endlessly retelling the tale...but always conveniently leaving out the fact that he, by his own admission, "deserved it." Pitiful. Just pitiful.
Brad Shaw's Wicked XBIZ Acceptance Speech For Best Community (JBM)
Jenna Jameson as a blonde or brunette?
You decide.
Players Ball - Good and Bad
D$ aka Darren Blatt writes on GFY:
The Players Ball was one of the best ones ever, from a performance perspective. However, my main concern is for the sponsors and I have to give an apology for the disorganization of the management at the venue.
We had meetings and we went over simple things like seating charts and they got a few tables f---ed up and some weren't even on the list. I promise you I gave them the right details, they're gonna hear from me today about that. I tried my hardest last night to over come the line problems and many other fires I was busy putting out all night. Last year we didn't have any issues with this venue, but this year it is under a new management team, they were overwhelmed. Just know that I tried my hardest, and at times when I was on stage during performances, it was to manage the stage and get fools out of the way of the artists. If KB and I weren't up there, we wouldn't of had a performance by the artists, there were too many people jamming on stage. I kind of felt like my hands were tied with making sure the performances went off.
The show was awesome, but for me, if the venue isn't on top of their game, things can look ugly at times. I'd also like to thank NATS for their continued support, I know they had some issues with the venue as well and I'm going to try my best to make sure I understand exactly what happened. I'll be in touch in the next day or 2 with NATS to compare notes and see what was going on upstairs.
Other bad things included the sound company cutting off the mic as I was trying to plug the hell out of our sponsors, I waited on stage with a dead mic in my hand, fortunately I did get all sponsors plugs throughout the night. The door was jammed, we probably lost 100 to 200 people that gave up, the venue controls the doors and I tried my best to fish as many people in and get those lines moving. The Players Cards helped a ton of people get through the line much faster, but it was hard to penetrate through that mob of people. We had some damage, someone f---ed up an antique bench that will cost me thousands of dollars, so I'm pretty pissed off at whoever f---ed that bench up, not cool. It was demolished.
The show was tight and the crowd was hyped all night, can't wait to see the video. Our sponsors will receive some great post production video support to help off set the issues during the night, this footage will blow people away so I have a feeling the branding of these clips will get some eye balls for my pimps. MTV loved the party and shot great footage. AlternativeCash.com sported a little private party in their suite, MTV shot great pre-party content.
Did I mention DMC from RunDMC was in the house? I spoke with him for a while and loved every second of it. He's a legend, very cool he showed. Now webmasters, don't feel so bad if you couldn't get through the mess, celebs could get through either. Coolio, Chingy and Gorilla Black came and left when they couldn't get in.
The Woody Awards got rushed because Cypress needed to get on stage, but I still got to read off all of the winners and a few winners got to speak and say their thanks. This party was probably the best Ball over all, maybe tied with the Snoop Dogg Players Ball.
Porn Star Misbehavior
Mike Albo writes on adultstarsnews.com:
What's an AEE without at least one story of a possible drug or alcohol OD? Last year it was Chasey Lain's alleged overdose and this year's story involves Gia Paloma. The story follows a familiar pattern: Porn star in a public place-in this case the Circle bar-begins acting strangely, loses control of motor functions, ambulance called, porn star whisked away for treatment and/or evaluation followed by denials from porn star that anything was amiss. Whatever happened to the days when folks had the good taste and restraint to do their hardest partying in the privacy of their rooms? Kids these days...
I hear that Kevin Beechum (co-owner of Cherry Pictures) got into a nasty fight Friday night. But Saturday night at the AVN Awards he looked fine.
After not winning best male performer, a formidable guy went up to his room, put on his white wifebeater and came down to the bar at the Venetian, threatening to beat up the winner -- the non-threatening Barrett Blade. It was only a year or two ago that Tera Patrick's boyfriend Evan Seinfeld was threatening to destroy Barrett for allegedly raping his wife on the set of Island Fever 3 (when a ton of people were around, none of whom remember any such thing happening).
Paul Fishbein walks by, ignored, his face a study in grim determination like a reluctant father dragooned into Take Your Daughter To Work Day... Rob Spallone is a few steps ahead of Our Australian Friend, who sold his name so he can't use it any more... A guy walks by, in a tux, the tie rakishly untied and hanging down his chest. It isn't even 9:00 yet... Lee Stone and Aria... Dick Smothers, Jr... A cheery PR person from the Venetian tells the people next to me that it's okay to take pictures, just don't shoot the casino cage or the gaming. A moment later, a crewcut Security guy tells them "No pictures in the casino. At all."
Spot The Hooker
When you, an average shmo, hang out in a bar in Vegas and an attractive girl comes on to you, the odds are high that she is a pro.
Due to my predilections for excess, I've set myself firm limits:
* No purchasing of hookers. Never have.
* No getting drunk (unless religiously commanded).
* No gambling.
* No spending money or time to get laid.
* Severely limit TV watching.
* Sleep on floor.
* Afflict self with long boring hours in houses of worship.
* My average hours of sleep a night - between six and seven. In Las Vegas this past week, I got about five. And I returned home healthy for the fourth convention in a row.
I heard a certain webmaster with boyish goodlooks and a new haircut was rumored to have lost $50 over a game of "Guess Who's A Hooker/Guess Who's A Porn Star" at the Island Bar...the only gambling this amazingly goodlooking webmaster did the whole time...
I heard a certain webmaster also was threatened due to a conversation that went:
Girl With Big Tits: Hey baby, how's it going?
Webmaster: Good. So, you here for the show?
Girl With Big Tits: No, I'm a working girl
Webmaster: Well, how about working on getting me a beer from the bar?
Girl With Big Tits: If I had mace, you'd be on the floor crying like a bitch
Convention Pictures With Commentary From Smelly Monkey
James inquires: What happened to the concept of pride and knowing when to fall on your sword?
The FTC is at the show, they are also reading the major boards
Brad Shaw writes on JBM: "I can not go into details, but I am 100% sure the FTC is walking around the show. Wonder if they are targeting those with a major presence at the show."
Brad says he punked the boys from Netpond:
AGA is a great guy. But Meat is an idiot, has a hard on for me, and runs his mouth non stop about me. He can not differentiate reality from board bs. So I wanted to make sure I saw him at the show to give him some Brad Shaw lovin. After telling him hello, I asked him if he was attending the Xbiz awards. I told him I heard a rumor they won and I wanted to congratulate him. He runs off all excited telling people that they won. So while giving my speech I hear some idiot with an accent yelling at me from the upper deck. I can only hope that was Meat.
I burn them, build them, burn them, build them. It keeps me on my toes. My business model is not something I recommend, but it works for me and has opened many more doors than I ever imagined. 99% of people can see through the bs, Meat is not one of them.
Las Vegas Show Highlights
* An AVN source writes: "Of course Christy Canyon was comped. By the way, we gave over 500 free tickets away to talent this year (and that doesn't includfe companies who buy tables and have their talent sit with them). Someone's always unhappy when they are turned down and in some cases they wait until 5PM Saturday to ask for a ticket to an 8:30 show. We sold out late Friday and were 90% sold out before we got to Vegas."
* I was offered and I was tempted but when I was offered, I was not tempted, and when I was tempted, I was not offered, so I was chaste in Vegas. I spent less than $50 all told by sacrificing my dignity and freeloading off Terri "Headline News" Redor and Rob Spallone (thanks to his brother Roy for my final ride home Sunday night).
* My Tropicana roommate (Tuesday through Thursday night) Terri told Kayla Cam that for all my protestations of morality, I am not adverse, when going to a date with a porn star, to carrying along protection in my pocket. I say, better to be safe than sorry in case my lower nature overwhelms my lofty ideals.
* Brad Shaw writes on JBM about his meeting with Steve Jones of Lightspeed (a company which specializes in promoting girls of legal age who look much younger): "I see the idiot walking, he of course puts down his head like he does not see me. So I get in front of him and say something like"he steve, here I am, tell me what you have to say to my face"... Of course he cowered like a 4 year old and had nothing to say and ran off. The video is priceless.
"I was not trying to fight Steve. I was simply making a point that I am not hard to find, and that he could say his piece to me. Fighting is not my style, although he did threaten 2 weeks ago to kick my ass to one of my staff members."