Porners didn't want it, governments didn't want it, ICANN didn't want it.  NOBODY except a handfull of people who were bribed by Stuart Lawley [...]]]> Once again this skid mark just will not fade away. Never mind the fact that porners and The Bush administration both agreed on one thing...we don't want the .xxx top level domain.

Porners didn't want it, governments didn't want it, ICANN didn't want it.  NOBODY except a handfull of people who were bribed by Stuart Lawley and ICM Registry wanted it.

Twice ICANN shot it down.  But just like a skid mark in Donny Long's underwear this shit stain keeps coming back, because he figures there's lots of money to be made selling these domains at inflated prices.  As soon as it's enacted his next move will be to lobby governments to make it mandatory for adult sites.

The good news is that even if approved it wil be unlikely to take hold, particularly if porners refuse to buy the domains.  lots of new tlds have been approved but almost none of them are worth anything, only .com is really worth anything.

The bad news is that its even being considered.  The only person who wants it is Lawley and he continues to try to ram it down everyones throats.

When will this fucking douchebag learn no means no?

Fuck You Stuart Lawley

from www.nbclosangeles.com - Condoms in porn could be mandatory, as California regulators are set to review a petition from the AIDS Healthcare Foundation.

The Cal/OSHA standards board will [...]]]> In a move Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles coulda seen coming Cal OSHA today has announced the formation of an advisory committee to make condom use in porn mandatory.

from www.nbclosangeles.com - Condoms in porn could be mandatory, as California regulators are set to review a petition from the AIDS Healthcare Foundation.

The Cal/OSHA standards board will review the petition on Thursday, the Los Angeles Times reported:

On Thursday, the California Division of Occupational Safety and Health standards board is scheduled to consider a petition the foundation filed in December to change state law and require condom use and other safe sex protections for adult-film workers, including increased safety training and testing for sexually transmitted diseases.

Board staff and staff at the state's Division of Occupational Safety and Health have recommended that the board create an advisory committee to consider amending the law "in order to give greater protection to employees in the adult film industry."

"Although workers in adult films should enjoy protections under the current phrasing of the regulation, as well as the Board's determination that adult film workers are employees, the adult film industry has steadfastly refused to take any steps to protect its workers from diseases spread by blood borne pathogens, resulting in thousands of employees becoming infected with sexually transmitted diseases. Clarification and enhanced enforcement of the rules are called for," according to the petition.

OK lets be honest with ourselves here...does anyone REALLY think that advisory committee is going to say they are doing fine leave them alone?  If the industry tries to use AIM as its defense we are going to get trounced, unless someone is paid off. Here is one of the things my readers will recognize, that they will use against us...AIM doesn't even use Gold Standard testing and the so called "Doctor" Sharon Mitchell's formal accredited education amounts to a GED.  That's it.

Now I have heard it said that if this passes companies will just move.  That's not true, some will go outta business.  Some shoot renegade and some will simply shoot outside of Los Angeles, most I expect will simply outsource.

This could be a death blow to many DVD companies that are already getting killed. The bigger companies that do survive will see greatly increased sales with far less competition from the gonzo end of the market.

The question is not if condoms will be mandated, I'd say that's almost a lock, but how far they will go, will condoms be required for oral? Will facials be a thing of the past? Will dental Dams be required?  That's the question and when it happens AIM can shut its doors

(March 2, 2010 – Chatsworth, CA) Dimension DVD has been the industry [...]]]> I got this last week, noticed everyone else ran it but nobody really saw through it. Allow me to splain' it to y'all.

"The Twenty Year Veteran of Adult and Co-Founder of Dimension DVD Promises to Keep skinworXXX on the Cutting Edge of Technology

(March 2, 2010 – Chatsworth, CA) Dimension DVD has been the industry leader in DVD authoring and new technology for the better part of the past decade. Robert Brickman, co-founder of Dimension DVD, has joined hot newcomer studio skinworXXX as Chief Technology Officer and as a principal owner."

Now anyone knows anything about porn knows Skinworxxx doesn't have any money. Certainly not enough to hire any sort of executive.  Skinworxxx's own suppossed CEO Joshua, is in bankruptcy. So what does all this mean?

What it means is that Robert Brickman gave them money and most likely purchased a stake in the company.

Now you know the REST of the story....

Ben Gay (That's Derek Hay aka Ben English to y'all) has now jumped into the fray.

What seems to be forgotten here is exactly who works for whom. Let's break this down to the brass tacks.

An agent's job is [...]]]> This whole thing has gotten more play than it probably deserves but one thing jumped out at me.

Ben Gay (That's Derek Hay aka Ben English to y'all) has now jumped into the fray.

What seems to be forgotten here is exactly who works for whom. Let's break this down to the brass tacks.

An agent's job is to get his talent the best rates he can and to advise what is best for the talent, however he works for the talent, they do not work for him. So if Jeff Mullen calls and says I want to hire so and so gilr and I will pay her whatever for the day, it's fine for Ben to say thats not enough...BUT Ben has a full responsibility to tell the talent about this offer and let the talent make the decision. he can advise against it if he wants but in the end, it's her call NOT his. Technically his not doing so could cost him his license in California I think.

So all of this back and forth is really just stupid games...do your fucking job, tell the talent about the offer, if they refuse then fine, nobody takes issue with that. Shut your fucking hole and do what you are required to do.

See how simple things are when ya just use common sense....

"As for scumbags, there is not a single guy in porn who ain't in it to exploit dumb chicks and fuck 'em. So cares [...]]]> He emailed me, blasting Jeff Mullen and praising scumbags that I will NEVER give good press to on this site.  When I replied and told him so here is his response.

"As for scumbags, there is not a single guy in porn who ain't in it to exploit dumb chicks and fuck 'em. So cares cares about documentation, every video that has ever come out of the SFV is documentation of a long list of dirtbags. Put that in your pipe and smoke it."

That says more about Tim Lassiter than I ever could.....right from his own mouth.

See that's the fucking problem with porn, we have way way too many douchebags like this in the biz.  I bet if we cleaned them out we'd prosper...lets start with him....

She didn't stay in very long [...]]]> It all started many years ago. I met a girl that worked as a door girl in a strip club in Dallas texas, Dirty Bob actually set it up.  I never shot her but we became friends and the friendship lasted.  She would eventually enter the biz as Tawni Lyons.

She didn't stay in very long and she got out and returned to a more normal life.

About five years ago I got a call from her and she said she was taking a new job with  a well known hotel chain.  She was going to be a semi big wig and part of her benefits package included health insurance for her and her spouse.  She said she was going to tell them I was her spouse because she felt like I needed health insurance.  I didn't see a real downside because I was going to be paying for it, it just got me in a good group policy for an affordable price...1/8th what the same insurance would have cost me, I had already looked into it.

About a month later she called me back, and said that the insurance company wanted a copy of our marriage certificate.  I figured oh well it was a good try. She had tried the oh well we never made it formal and all but that didn't wash they said we had thirty days to get married legally. I said thanks anyway.

She said, not so fast. She said why dont we get married, we live a thousand miles apart, we  have been friends forever and I know you aren't going to screw me over or anything, it would be legal but really just on paper. I checked with my attorney and my CPA and both said that if I followed some simple rules it would be a really good thing to do.  The rules were no joint property, no joint accounts, she didn't take my last name and we both had a will that left each other a token amount. We agreed and we agreed that if either of us ever wanted a divorce for any reason it wouldn't be contested.

I flew her to Atlanta and we went to the courthouse, marriage licenses and concealed carry permits were in the same place so I got one of each.  One stop shopping  I guess.  We then went upstairs and waited for a judge to marry us.

After about fifteen minutes this little auburn haired hispanic lady came out, she reminded me of Judge Marilyn, she was actually kind of cute, Tawny agreed too.  The judge took us into this tiny room and asked if we had anything special we wanted said.  I said to leave out any references to God and to leave out the part about forsaking all others.

The judge looks at me and says "so is this for military benefits or insurance?"  I said that would be the later, she smiled and said "I get a couple of these a week."  She said she had the perfect ceremony and she looks at me and says Do you Michael Take Tawny to be your lawfully wedded wife.  Tawny said that I did and the judge asks Do You Tawny Take Michael to be your lawfully wedded husband?  I said she did and the judge pronounced us man and wife.

I took Tawny to the airport where she flew home with a copy of the marriage certificate.

Every month I paid my premium to Tawni and I did the stuff ya do when ya get new insurance, got my eyes checked my teeth cleaned and all that.  After about a year I decided I hadn't been to a doctor in a long time save for a few bouts with the flu, so a physical was probably in order.  This was in mid December.

I got the physical and and the doctor said how long have you had that limp?  I said not long, that I figured it was just old age, that I felt fine.  Indeed all my tests were good but he decided to do a few tests on my ankle and he hit my knee with the reflex hammer and on the left leg it jumped but on the right leg it didn't....nothing.

He didn't like that.

The next week I went to an orthopedic specialist who did the same thing and said ya something isn't right.  He decided to do a Convective Nerve test on me.  Now let me tell you, if you have never had one of these imagine getting your leg hooked up with about a dozen wires, the wires at the top send electrical signals and the ones around my knee and ankles measure the response and how strong it was.  Problem is they use high voltages, it feels like you are being tasered. After two hours of these tests I was ready to whip this doctors ass.  He informed me that he was pretty sure, based on the results of the test, that I had a condition called Charcot_Marie Tooth disease. Its a degenerative nerve disease, blah blah.

I came home and went straight to the internet, his diagnosis sounded right, except for one thing, CMT is hereditary, and all four of my grandparents lived well into their nineties CMT would have left them in a wheelchair by then, but just to be sure I called my mother and my dad.  Nope, nobody ever had it that they knew of.

On the follow up a few days later I told the Orthopedist that I didn't think the diagnosis was right and why.  He decided that an MRI of my lower back would basically rule out anything else, so the MRI was set for after the first of the year.

On the day of the MRI, as I was leaving the hospital where it was done I got a call, from the orthopedist, he said you need to go back, hell I hadnt been gone fifteen minutes.  I went back and they did another MRI, this time on my middle back.  he called again and said to meet him in his office at 830AM when he opens.

At 830 AM I went into his office where he had some pictures on a light board, they looked a little like Xrays but way more clear and detailed, he said that they had seen something at the top of one of my pictures of my lower back and thats why they got me back in for my middle back., then he pointed out a white mass and said that is your problem, no doubt about it.

I said OK what's that?  he said THAT is WAY beyond my ability to do anything with, you need a neurosurgeon.  The emphasis on "that" and "way" combined with the word "neurosurgeon" alarmed me.  It was tripled when he said that I was to leave his office and go directly there, he had set up an appointment with the best one in Atlanta for me.

Now I'm not really as dumb as some folks think I am, I KNEW that this was serious, Neurosurgeons don't see you that fast unless it's serious.

The neurosurgeon told me he was surprised that I walked in, asked me if I had any trouble controlling my bladder, I said no, he asked if I had any problems with erections, I said yes I have a hard time keeping it down.  He was a German guy and this was a source of great amusement to him.

He told me I was one lucky fellow, that I had a large tumor growing from my spinal cord. That it was between the T-12 and L-1 vertabrae and was inside the T-12 and was compressing my spinal cord against my backbone.  He said I should have been paralyzed from  the waist down, and that I would be soon.  He said that it had to be surgically removed and it had to be done as quickly as possible.  He said he needed to have equipment brought in to monitor my central nervous system during the surgery and that it would take two weeks to get there, so I was to check into the hospital in two weeks.

He explained the surgery and he said honestly that it was risky. He said that he doubted he could get all of it without leaving me paralyzed from the waist down, but he could get most of it, certainly enough to relieve the pressure on the spinal cord. He said it would be the most difficult surgery he was likely to do all year. But that it had to be done, no ifs ands or buts, and it couldn't wait. He added that normally back surgery is done through the front part of your abdomen but that wouldn't be possible for this and that doing surgery on a patient that way is extra risky because they cant exactly flip you over on your back and defib you if anything goes wrong, so I should follow a strict diet for the next two weeks, I couldn't take aspirin or eat certain foods and I couldn't take any meds, smoke, or drink.

Now two weeks is a long time to be thinking about this, so I decided I needed a distraction and I left for Dayton that day.  Two weeks of banging peelers and being around friends, good friends, was what I needed to keep me from thinking about it too much.

I came back and checked into the hospital the next day at 4 am for my surgery. I could write about that experience...and I have before but  it isn't pleasant except that my neurosurgeons (I had two) did a fantastic job and got 99% of the tumor, and even though it took 8 days before I could walk and I  was starting to wonder, I did walk again and the rest is all good.

So did Tawny save my life really?  In a word, yes.  You see as I was in the hospital preparing for the surgery my little brother was with me, I explained to him that if anything went wrong and I was going to be unable to walk, to tend to myself and all that he was to leave a specific gun within reach and I would take care of the rest.  I told him I didn't want anyone wiping my ass, that was not how I wanted to be remembered and to honor my wishes to check out on my own.  I wasn't being a coward I was being honest to myself and I wanted to have that option if it came to that. It is, after all, MY life. He agreed that he would want the same thing and he promised, the kind of promise men keep because it is bound by honor.

If not for that unselfish act on the part of Tawny I would likely never have gone to the doctor for that physical, and never found what would have devastated my life in a matter of months.  I owe her a debt I will never be able to repay and she would never ask me to, because that's what friends do. So I have made it a point to be the kind of friend to my friends that she is to me.  She has a big karma surplus on the side of good I think.  I hope she wins the lottery or something.

It was a picturesque day. Before me lay a stretch of deep green mountain range, its soft round peaks kissing the underbelly [...]]]> I was driving from work to a lunch destination today, forced to take the highway, contemplating how to navigate the rest of this story and not sure at all how to go about it.

It was a picturesque day. Before me lay a stretch of deep green mountain range, its soft round peaks kissing the underbelly of a cloud-dappled sky, thick with gray at the base and the promise of rain, then building straight up into the air in their own vertical peaks of brilliant white before merging into a shower of blue sky. It was a dazzling vision, and I took a mental picture of it because it will be gone soon. Soon the drought will come. Soon it will steal the moisture, the growth and the color. Nothing lasts forever.

I didn't take many mental pictures back then - five years ago when I knew these people that left my life abruptly. I took a few but they had to be unusual to really make an imprint in my mind. The rambling, drunken ex-marine off Wall Street that caught his wife in the act of infidelity, two weeks with the coked-out Dutchman that convinced me to never ever visit France again with anyone other than myself, the wild-haired and trembling man that knocked on my hotel door in the middle of a cold and rainy night wanting me to burn him with cigarettes. The landscape of my mind is not that different from the mountains of Southern California. For the most part, the earth is charred. It takes an especially striking scene to snap my attention into focus.

I'm not sure there's much more I can say, really. I don't have those kinds of pictures with "Damien", the make-up artist. Besides, almost everything he said to me he followed with, "Don't tell anyone!" He knew I wrote a lot in my spare time, so it's not surprising. He was a gifted storyteller and artist, and I thought we were friends because we seemed to get along so well, but I was only a replacement friend when Raven stopped giving him money. She hired him on her sets, and they spent time together away from work, but then she loaned him a very large sum of money with his promise of "millions" in return, and when it wasn't returned, any of it, in over a year, she became catty and he resented her for it. No amount of wholesome advice can dampen the fury between a woman whose god is money, and a social climber who has used her and her money to rise in the ranks of royalty. My humble background is limited in such a situation. I am of no help.

We had both stopped talking to Raven altogether. I should have talked to her. I should have shared my mind with her, but I didn't know how. I just wanted peace. I don't like confrontation. I was raised in a house full of loud and obnoxious people. I learned to retreat, to run away from home, to escape without a word because it seemed the easiest way to shed the chaos. I hadn't yet learned that when you do that and get no closure, the chaos follows you, taking up space in your mind.

Damien borrowed money from me but he always paid it back. I didn't mind. I had money while I was working, so it didn't seem like a big deal, but that changed when I met Doug. Doug and I both eventually found ourselves going through similar transitional phases and we lost almost everything.

We also got serious pretty fast. I knew it when I didn't want to fly out to see a customer for the weekend. I had already taken half the money, so I had to go, but I didn't want to. He didn't want me to, either. When I returned, anxious to hear his voice, he sounded distant and disillusioned. It killed him to endure an entire weekend of my being gone, with another man, not knowing if I was okay. He felt betrayed, even though he knew what my job was, even though we hadn't made any promises. My feelings for him made me angry. I was used to being alone. The isolation cradled me. I didn't want to need anyone. I didn't want to be around anyone for too long, until I met him. We'd spend entire weekends together, rolling around in bed, making love, haunting the local eateries around West Hollywood. It was effortless to be with him. Nothing like the extreme discomfort and uncertainty I felt with Stephan. He was just my speed; a Midwestern boy with manners and a motorcycle.  I knew I loved him on a Sunday morning.

We had spent all morning rustling beneath the covers on an overcast day. Soft rays of light spilled through the beige canvas drapes and reflected off the bare white walls of his bedroom. It was definitely a bachelor's bedroom - sparsely furnished save for one dresser, a dragon statue holding a light orb in its taloned claws and one side table framing the prized centerpiece, a large king-sized bed. He lay next to me, glistening with sweat, worn and glowing, his chestnut hair spilling out around his face. I clicked off a picture of him with his own little point-and-shoot camera. "I'm hungry," I groaned, not wanting to get out of bed. "Let's go get something to eat," he said, pushing back a strand of hair from my face, smiling.

We heaved ourselves up and dressed. I had none of my own clothes, so I slipped on a pair of his jeans, a red sleeveless sweatshirt and one of his baseball caps and we walked a few blocks down the street off Sunset to Frankie & Johnny's Pizza.

There was only one other patron sitting nearby in the long rectangular pizzeria, a lone man eating quietly. A bored waitress with multicolored hair took our order and then retreated back to her station behind the register. As we waited for our food, the soulful strains of Wild Horses by The Stones began playing from the sound system. The pizza came and as we sat there, Doug's head framed by disabled storefront neon beer signs and sunlight, his cotton shirt and worn Levi's hugging my skin, staring into his gray-green eyes while that song played, I knew I loved him. I didn't know how much, yet, but I knew.

Damien was not pleased when I insinuated that I might quit my job. In fact, he instructed me to continue working and even constructed what I should say to Doug to explain why I had to keep working. It was stunning, and I didn't understand why pursuing love with someone who didn't want me to be with anyone else sexually was a bad thing. Doug is old-fashioned that way and I happened to be okay with it. I couldn't figure Damien's angle until he slowly gravitated back to Raven - a renewed, consistent source of money. I'd love to be wrong about any of this. I was so confused and angry by the way things died that I couldn't even talk about it without losing my temper entirely for well over a year. Damien borrowed a thousand dollars from me, promising to pay it back the next week and then disappeared. When he finally called me months later he was distant and strange. He told an elaborate story about running off to Europe, getting stranded there, Raven bailing him out and bringing him back home safely. Six months of catching up and not one question about how I was doing. He had no idea that I was completely broke and considering pawning my jewelry to pay for my car insurance. Then he got busy and hung up.

A week later I called him from my car, crying. The pawn shop would not pay enough for my diamond earrings, and I sat in front of the store unable to control my pain for having to call and remind him that I needed the thousand dollars back. I've been poor before, I've sat in welfare lines, but I didn't feel that I should have had to call and beg back money that was mine. Of course, I could have guessed that that would happen. He still owed Raven money, but that money hadn't been for him, it was borrowed for someone else, and one thousand dollars was nothing to either of them.

He answered the phone in a flurry of, "Oh, I'm so busy!" and, "I'm doing hair and make-up on three models right now!" I steadied myself between sobs and said, "I need that thousand dollars back. I'm sitting in front of a pawn shop. They won't give me enough for my earrings and I have to pay my car insurance." He laughed. I know now it was probably the kind of incredulous, nervous laughter that happens when you are in front of other people and don't know exactly how to react, but it pierced me instantly. "Well, I'll call you right back. I have to get through what I'm doing." He never called me back.

I called him the next day and he didn't answer his phone. He was doing to me what he'd done to Raven when she wanted her money back, so I left a pointed message. "I still need that money back. Maybe I should be asking your keeper for it?" He called back instantly and spat into my ear, "I cared about you! I loved you! You will get your money back!" I did. I got it back three days later in front of the Virgin Record Store on the corner of Sunset and Crescent Heights. He stood in front of me and sneered and boasted about working for a man "who has more money than God!" He never knew me. Never knew me at all. If he had he would have known that talk of having money did not impress me. It was meant to make me feel embarrassed and belittled. I can't believe I allowed someone that cheap to break my heart.

...to be continued...

Many of you will wonder why that is something that is newsworthy here.

Well, I'll tell ya.

A very good friend of mine, Kayden Kross, turned me on to Barry Hannah's writing.  She knows I love to read and she wanted me to read her "favorite book of all [...]]]> He died at age 67 from a heart attack.

Many of you will wonder why that is something that is newsworthy here.

Well, I'll tell ya.

A very good friend of mine, Kayden Kross, turned me on to Barry Hannah's writing.  She knows I love to read and she wanted me to read her "favorite book of all time"  "Yonder Stands your Orphan".  I read it. It was a thick read, he writes in prose but his characters are incredibly rich, and like all of us, flawed.

For much of his life, Hannah was a hard drinking man, ready to fight at the drop of a hat, according to most who knew him, but he mellowed with age and was quite generous with his time.

One of the things I gave Kayden for Christmas a couple of years ago was a First edition, first printing hardback of "Yonder Stands Your Orphan", flat signed by Barry Hannah.  I know that she treasures it.

His death was just days before the 17th annual Oxford Conference for the Book, held in his hometown of Oxford, Mississippi.  Hannah and his work were the focus of this year’s conference.  I got an invite and Kayden and I had talked about going.

American literature lost one if it's greats.

"Sometimes you don’t want to arrange your memory. I love the pure chaos of it and just the reverie of it for its own sake. I think that is what a writer has: a better memory than most people, or at least a more sensual memory. Language and memory are what it is all about".

Barry Hannah