The great thing about posting a blog only slightly more often than George Bush gets head is that so many things which would take hours to write simply fade into the background.

Here’s a little quickie update on our lives.

• The Blood of Virgins has been bumped back to September (tentatively) to accomodate its bigger scale.

• We’re currently prepping ICON, a big-budget Hillary Scott all-sex movie.

• I’m in a pissing match with another porn director over an upcoming project and I don’t really understand why.

• My interview for Geek magazine finally came out. It’s okay, but the editors cut so much (Rob sent me the full version right after he wrote it) I was a little surprised. I shouldn’t bitch, though… they only gave one more page to Jon Favreau. Still, I wish they’d kept most of what they cut and cut most of what they kept…

• I went to Porn Star Karaoke with K the other night. Thanks to Lexi Lamour and Ethan Cage and Gram and Joanne being there it was actually fun. Had I gotten the urge to sing, I can’t decide if I would have gone with Tom Waits or Bobby Darin.

• We finally have contractors working on the never-ending bathroom (that’s the little know thirdsequel where the Luck Dragon takes a whiz on a giant fire hydrant) and it’s kind of an adventure. Having moved as far away as I feasibly could from my white-trash roots in Apache Junction, Arizona I had almost forgotten what most of the rest of this country is like.

One of the guys working for the contractor is so reminiscent of all the dudes I went to high school with part of me wonders if I’m related. He’s s decent enough guy, I guess, but I really don’t miss these people. Y’see, rednecks are only funny in standup acts. And this ol’ boy is about as red as they come.

Bad cop mustache. Half-mulllet. Weird 80s-era Oakleys. Sings along with George Strait and Eddie Rabbit on the “Yesterday’s Country TODAY!” station they listen to when they work. Used the phrase “tree-huggers” in conversation with no sense of irony. At all.

I know this guy. I was surrounded by him for the first half of my life. Not only does this guy have a three-tree gun rack in his truck window and a sticker of a badly-drawn Saddam Hussein getting a missile with a US Flag up his ass, he would vote for Bush again if he could. He’s never heard that Al Quaeda and Iraq had nothing to do with each other until we blew the country to shit, nor would he care. I guarantee you this guy has, at some point in his life, used the term “camel fuckers” and the word “nuke” in the same sentence.

So I can’t help but wonder what he must think about us, and our home. Downtown L.A. warehouse-turned-loft complete with full dungeon, pictures of naked whores all over the walls, populated by cats — CATS, for Christ’s sake — a shaved-headed freak faggot with earrings and his slut girlfriend.

Someday he’s gonna talk about this job and the words “L.A. Freaks” and “nuke” are gonna get all cozy in the same sentence. I guarantee ya.

…tree huggers… jesus…

Whatcha think?

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