Porn

Got this XRCO shot from Dirty Bob. This is my “please don’t take my picture” face.

 As a reward for breaking the code of the script I’m working on, I made myself go outside for a minute, just to prove it was still there.

It’s  4 a.m. and I just got home about 20 minutes ago. I left for work at 8:45 this morning. This is all in the nature of the business I’m in. In fact, it isn’t even unusual.

I started the day shooting camera on two scenes for Ben. The first was a young girl who’d done very few scenes who was sweet, but as boring as boring can be. The second girl was doing her first scene ever and, really, performed like a champ.

Afterwards, I went to shoot on Punk Rock Schoolgirls for Joanna Angel and James Deen. Joanna writes rally cute, funny scripts for her movies, but sometimes they’re a bit… overambitious. As the oldest warhorse on the set (I’ve got five years on the next oldest person, and 11 years more experience in porn), I had the unenviable task of pulling James & Joanna aside and suggesting that they weren’t going to make their day.

In the past, Joanna has always gotten lucky and pulled off the impossible. This time it just wasn’t going to happen. So, the plug got pulled with one incredibly intricate dialogue scene to be picked up at some later date.

For all that the populace at large things porn is an enormous fuck-off job, I often think there are no harder working people in the world than porn shooters.

Tomorrow I’m going to run errands and spend the evening with Mischief and some of her friends. It’s good because I’ve been feeling incredibly anti-social lately, I think as a reaction to being so overwhelmed by work and debt (strange combination). She forces me to get out in the world.

For my birthday she took me to a big cat preserve, ironically located right next door to the Tropic Desert Mine where we shot The 8th Day, so I was already aware of the place. It was a great day out, spent mostly in the company of animals (whom I largely prefer to people).

Rape of the Aboriginal Americans day and most of this coming weekend will be spent at the computer, working. Indulging my misanthropic nature.

My fingers are stiff from too many long days in a row, so for now let me just say eat some dead turkey in honor of a dead Indian and enjoy your Thanksgiving.

Well, hello there! I was walking by and saw this blog sitting here abandoned and adrift like the Mary Celeste and decided to come aboard.

Yeah, it’s been a crazy few weeks. I’m gonna keep this short, because, well, I’ve still got shit to do, but I’ll try to check back a little more often.

Been doing a lot of editing. Finished Kiss of the Strangler, which is a new feature (what?! NOT a parody?!  Do they still make those?) for Hot Video. I’m really happy with it. If you’re curious, you can watch their very own on-the-set report here: http://www.hotvideo.fr/usa.php

I don’t come off looking too ridiculous.

I also spent a few weeks under the gun editing Joanna’s Angels 3 for BurningAngel. It’s their big movie for the year, and even though I was the DP on the movie, I forgot what an epic it is until I was faced with trying to finish it in the space of 10 days. That deadline almost killed me when it raced past.

Still, the movie got finished, and I’m quite proud. It’s hysterical.

I’ve got other shenanigans in the works, including the possibility that I’ll be a producer of a multi-million-dollar mainstream film. But those details will have to wait. Until, y’know, they might be a real thing that’s not going to be cursed out of existence by its mere mention aloud. Like love or faeries or justice.

I felt like I was living someone else’s life for a bit there on Friday. At the beginning of the week, Friday had been targeted as an editing day, one in which I could have the kind of sustained, uninterrupted focus I need for cutting.

Of course, by mid-week, that was all shot to hell.

When I got word that I had to spend another crapload of money on History’s Most Costly Vacation (will I never stop paying for this trip?) I decided quickly selling off some junk was more sensible.

Incidentally, if anyone is in the market for a killer V1U package, or some 12” Sideshow figures from Episodes I-III, just drop me a line.

Then Ethan Cage asked me if he and Lexi Lamour could shoot content for her site here on Friday as they had lost the location they thought was free. Sure, what the hell. Ain’t gonna interfere with posting crap on Ebay.

I decide, since I’m now not editing Friday, I should stay up Thursday night and work. This might explain some of Friday’s slightly surreal quality. Or maybe it’s a flashback from the acid I’ve never dropped.

K and her Souvenir were out bright and early Friday morning. Lexi, Ethan, Courtney Cummz and webmaster Bill Fox show up around 11:30 to do their thing.

Around 1, Mischief showed up. She’s in San Francisco this weekend, so I invited her to stop by on her way out of town for lunch. We left the porn folk to their own devices and hit the Lost Soul’s Café. Fine, but unremarkable food. The same excellent company. She’s incredibly easy to be around, this girl. Smart, sexy, warm, and so very, very familiar.

Good for the ego, too. I figured she would be anxious to hit the road, holiday traffic being in full ass-suck by the time we got back from lunch. Not so. She was anxious to find a relatively private spot to get naked and make out instead.

Which we managed to do. Briefly. Until Amelia June — a friend of 20 years who I was expecting around noon and had written off as a no-show — came up to the second level looking for us around 3.

Conceding defeat, Mischief and I got dressed. I walked her to her car, necked in front of the cold storage guys, and sent her on her way.

Amy, who worked for me at The Castle adult store in Arizona back before it was a chain, hung out until 5:30 talking relationships and break-ups and catching up and falling apart. She likes the Goth Biscuit a lot, but can’t imagine dating someone 16 years younger. Amelia June skews older in her relationships, and is just breaking up (2010: The Year We Break Contact) with a woman 15 years her senior.

By the time I fed cats, caught up with Ben Hoffman, the Photographer in the Attic, and made dinner for myself, I was sitting down to post things at 9:30.

I was still awake at 3 a.m. when Amber Rayne texted, having a meltdown (see the previous post). Finally got to sleep around 5.

Today, I’ve had other distractions. Errands to run. French photographers. Temporarily abandoned Andy San Dimases.

In a few minutes, I’m headed out to door for dinner and a movie and I dunno what with the stunning Adrianna Nicole. I’ve gotten fuck-all done again today.

And I’m okay with it.

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