Auld Lang Syne.

Well, kids, Christmas is gone and 2009 is upon us…

Luna and I want to wish everyone out there a very happy New Year’s Eve, full of wild good times and super sexy craziness, just keep your resolutions and your regrets manageable, okay?

We’ve only been with you a short time now, but we’ve had a hell of a time and we hope you’ve enjoyed the ride too. Don’t worry, we’re not even close to stopping and I think it’s safe to say that you’ll be seeing a lot more of us in the new year. We might even have some surprises up our sleeves…

But there’s plenty of time to worry about that. For now, go have some fun, okay? That’s what we’re going to do and soon as we’re sober enough to type, we’ll be back with even more goodies for you.

Go light some sparklers and have a drink on us, okay? Now get out there and grab yourself a midnight kiss!

“Jackie Treehorn treats objects like women, man!”

I certainly couldn’t let this year slide away from us without mentioning what is, without a doubt, still one of my favorite movies, The Big Lebowski, which had it’s 10 year anniversary this year.

Do I even need to explain to you what this movie is? No. I mean, come on. It’s The Big Lebowski. Directed by the Coen brothers? Yeah, you’ve seen it. You know you have. And if you’re reading this and you’re thinking to yourself, “Hmm, I haven’t seen this movie, then… well, you probably don’t understand English. That’s cool and all. Just go watch the movie subtitled in your native tongue and come on back. We’ll still be here. But you know this movie.

Jesus! “You don’t fuck with The Jesus!” And, of course, Karl Hungus:

I could write pages and pages about this movie, you don’t even know. Volumes upon volumes, even. But (for now) I’ll spare you. Tonight we’re just going to talk about one character and one scene. My favorite scene. Well, one and a half scenes.

It all starts when our hero, The Dude (brilliantly assayed by Jeff Bridges)(if this was a longer piece on the movie as a whole, I’d totally go into the brilliant way that the Dude picks up the lexicon of every new social strata he enters, but yeah, that’s a story for another time), meets Maude (Julianne Moore, a fine sport and in great form here), the daughter of the title character, to discuss the kidnapping of the eponymous Big Lebowski’s young trophy wife (Tara Reid, in the role I’m convinced that she was quite literally born to play).

Maude suggests to the Dude, who’s somehow become the point man in the case of the kidnapped trophy wife due to a ridiculous case of mistaken identity, that all is not what it seems and that young Bunny, the kidnapped girl, probably had herself kidnapped to accumulate some money (her husband keeps her on a small budget). Why? “Because she owes money all over town,” we’re told. Including to “known pornographers.” And that’s where the star of our post today comes in:

Jackie Treehorn. Known pornographer.

But here’s the part where I suck and suck hard: I don’t even know where to begin to talk about, let alone really analyze this character, or especially his one brilliant scene in the movie. It all starts with set up, though. You hear about Treehorn long before you see him, he’s seedy and unscrupulous, sending thugs after our hero. And he is, after all, a “known pornographer.”

But then it all falls onto the very capable shoulders of Ben Gazzara‘s brilliantly memorable performance as Treehorn, especially given how little screen time he’s given, but how much he does with it, how perfectly he gives the character this very Malibu-ish laid back yet still regal psychopath vibe. Again, part of that has to do with the writing and the classic way in which the Coens handle the character, who’s creating ripples and ramifications of his very existence long before he pops up onscreen and long after he’s gone. But there’s practically no one more capable of handling this particular medium of crazy characters who look perfectly normal and functioning on the outside than Gazzara. He’s had a hell of a filmography, but have you seen Road House? Say what you will about it (as long as you remember that it’s a brilliant film), but you can’t say that you easily forget Gazzara’s wonderfully unhinged Brad Wesley character after viewing it.

Eventually, the two thugs who peed on the Dude’s rug at the beginning of the movie (and kicked this beautiful tale into high gear) show up at the Dude’s place again. “Ping your diapers on, Lebowski,” one of them tells him. “Jackie Treehorn wants to see you.” You don’t say no to an invite like that.

From there we’re treated to a lovely non sequitir sequence showing you just how much fun a party can be at Jackie Treehorn’s Malibu pad:

Just a topless girl being tossed up and down in slow mo to a lovely soundtrack and for the amusement of the guys holding that blanket. And from the darkness emerges the man himself…

“Hello, Dude. Thanks for coming. I’m Jackie Treehorn.”

From there, Treehorn takes the Dude into what I guess you’d call his quite luxurious living room and they settle in for a nice little chat, which goes a little something like this…

Treehorn: “What’s your drink, Dude?”

The Dude: “White Russian, thanks. How’s the smut business, Jackie?”

Treehorn: “I wouldn’t know, Dude. I deal in publishing, entertainment, political advocacy, and-”

The Dude: “What one was ‘Logjammin?’”

Treehorn: “Regrettably, it’s true. Standards have fallen in adult entertainment. It’s video, Dude. Now that we’re competing with the amateurs, we can’t afford to invest that little extra in story, production value, feeling.”

Treehorn: “People forget that the brain is the biggest erogenous zone-”

The Dude: “On you, maybe.”

Treehorn: “Of course, you do get the good with the bad. The new technology permits us to do exciting things with interactive erotic software. Wave of the future, Dude. 100% electronic.”

The Dude: “Uh huh. Well, I still jerk off manually.”

From there they get down to the business on the case of the kidnapped trophy wife, Bunny. Jackie Treehorn doesn’t know where she is, and in fact, he thinks she staged the kidnapping too, and did it to raise the money to pay him. He doesn’t scare what scam the Dude is playing on the husband, he just wants his money. In fact, if the Dude can bring him his money, then Jackie Treehorn is pretty sure he can offer the dude a nice little finder’s fee.

The Dude: “Okay, Jackie, done. I like the way you do business, man.”

From there, the Dude tells Jackie Treehorn where his money can be found – with a 15 year old kid living in NoHo, near the In-N-Out Burger – and it’s a story that Jackie finds a little hard to believe. But he’s interrupted by phone call and has to take down a message…

Amongst the many other wonderful things this film is, it’s also the Coens’ take on the Raymond Chandler-esque L.A. detective, so of course the Dude notices that Jackie’s taking a message and writing something down. Treehorn then leaves the room for a moment, so utilizing all the tools of the detective that you can see in any movie, the Dude decides to sneak over to see what the note was.

And how does he do that? Shame on you if you can’t guess. But it just means that you haven’t watched enough old detective movies. It’s simple! Since Jackie Treehorn tore the page you wrote the note off the pad, the Dude will just grab a pencil and shade over the top sheet that’s left and the indent of Treehorn’s note will be there. And it is. And it is this:

That’s probably not what the Dude was expecting.

Shortly after that, the Dude passes out since Jackie Treehorn spiked his drink.

And he proceeds to have the greatest hallucination/fantasy dream sequence in a movie ever.

But if somehow you haven’t seen it… well, I’m not going to spoil it anymore than I already have. Let’s just say, you’ve got yourself something to go do, huh?

The Italian Job.

We’re going to try something new tonight. Fiction based on porn! In this case, this little Italian number. Warning: the dubbing in the video is awful. Stick with my supplemental reading

The Amicis had wrapped up their cocktail party. The catering crew had cleaned up, the drunk drivers had been sent home in taxis, and the kids were long asleep. Only one guest remained: Olga, a red headed fiery busty Norwegian, who had just been transferred to the Rome office of Leo’s company. She had always flirted with him at work, teasing him about his ineptness on the computer and showing off her sturdy Viking body in tight black skirts and 5 inch heels.  Her legs were long, but shapely. She definitely worked out. He thought she mostly dated women, she would flaunt her conquests in the office and flirt just as much with Leo’s secretary. “I just love blondes.”, she said “Amo appena le donne haired bionde“. He was a bit surprised to find Olga talking with his wife in their bedroom. All the young wives of his co-workers had made him so lusty and he was dying for some time alone with her. But when Olga walked over to the bookcase and pulled out an old tattered copy of The Joy of Sex, he knew what she was up to.

It was no surprise when he found himself pushing his wife up against the bookshelf, his mouth on hers and his fingers pushing down Olga’s top to reveal two amazing pair of breasts. They were just as good as his wife’s, but they were real, soft and pliable.  The only person who was awake was the Amici’s nanny, Lucia who was staying up studying for an exam. She was a few doors down from the master bedroom and while working, overheard the distinct moans of people having sex. But, it was different: this time she heard a third voice. She was interested and annoyed; she gets up to go investigate. Maybe she could close their door.

Don't they know I have finals tomorrow?

Intrigued, she stood by the master bedroom and watched as Mr. Amici fucked the red haired woman she had spied on at the party. While she watched the kids, the woman came up to her, gave her the look over and said, “I’d love to have you take care of my kids. You look like a good nanny.” and winked as she walked away. Not having had a boyfriend since moving to Rome to take care of the Amici children, she found herself getting turned on watching her boss fuck that woman. She also saw Mrs. Amici with her hands in her panties. Since they couldn’t see her, she lifted her shirt.

You and me, beneath the covers, between the sheets.

So last night, inspired by yesterday’s post, I did a little late holiday shopping myself (can you believe that I’m not even fully done with it yet?)(Of course you can) and I ended up getting groped a few times in one of the busy lines of peopled packed together like sardines in a hot, sweaty can. I’m not complaining, not at all, just stating a fact.

But here we are with part two of our taking a look at some books that might make fine additions to your last minute shopping spree, or just for your own reading lists…

Everything You Know About Sex Is Wrong: The Disinformation Guide To The Extremes Of Human Sexuality(And Everything In Between) .The ultimate gift for someone’s coffee table, bathroom book shelf (you don’t have one in there? Prude), or confused little head, all thanks to the fine weirdos at Disinfo. Don’t believe me? Here’s the first sentence of the product description on Amazon: “Orgasms, sexual inventions, spirituality, high-tech porn, gender-blending, hustling, masturbation, politics, airplane sex, disabilities, sex magick, biblical erotica, advertising, first times, sex in space, asexuality, group sex… Are you ready for Disinformation’s look at the world of sex?” Why, yes, I think I am. Also, I think Luna and I need to somehow make that product description describe Carnal Knowledge too, don’t we?

Sex For America: Politically Inspired Erotica, edited by Stephen Elliott. This is a decent little anthology of stories involving sex and politics and other topical matters (probably slightly past it’s topic though since it’s main target was the Bush administration), but not exactly what I’d call erotica. There’s a lot of intercourse though, how about that? There’s some very interesting stories, some very on point, and some much more subtle. My favorite involved a dominatrix picking up a sub girl at a party on the even of the 2004 election and bringing her home. As they watched the election returns, seeing the chances of a Kerry win slipping farther and farther away, the dom tortures the sub sexually, reminding her of all the ways a continued Bush presidency will fuck her. It’s fun and hot, but quite a few of the stories in this collection are. There’s an impressive roster on display here, including Anthony Swofford, Jerry Stahl, Rick Moody, and Jonathan Ames, and Elliott is an author that I’ve been hearing about for a while now, but I’d like to give his story collection My Girlfriend Comes To The CityAnd Beats Me Up a look sometime. Here’s an excerpt from that.

The Extremist, written by Peter Milligan and illustrated by Ted McKeever, is a slightly different kind of selection on this list being that it was a four issue limited comic book series that was released in 1993 and as far as I know, has never been collected in book form. A while back I read this post on the miniseries and immediately sought out the individual issues on ebay and I’m certainly glad it did. I don’t want to talk too much about the story, for fear of giving away something, but I will say that the story deals with secrets and sex, and the titular character is a fetish gear-wearing assassin (and underground celebrity frequenter of various San Francisco sex clubs) for a a shadowy hedonist organization known as “The Order.” Actually, the story deals with the the Extremist’s wife, who only discovers her husband alias after he’s murdered, and to get her revenge on his killer, she’ll have to submerge into the same role that her husband held, but some lifestyles aren’t as easy to get out of as they are to get into. This is a thrilling and dark read, filled with sex and violence, and high recommended. I’d also recommend the link up above as an excellent write up on the series, but it contains quite a bit of spoilers, so proceed at your own risk.

Vox by Nicholson Baker. Baker is usually good at creating nice and intricate short novels, and this one is no exception. The story consists solely of a man and a woman, complete strangers, talking on the phone, having phone sex, and and proving that sometimes the most arousing form of intimacy can be just talking. The novel also caught a little attention when it was revealed that Monica Lewinsky had given a copy of it to Bill Clinton (everyone knows that he gave her a copy of Whitman’s Leaves Of Grass, right?). An enjoyable read. Enjoy it by yourself, laying in bed, late at night, or indulge in something I’d like to do someday: read it with someone else, the ultimate act of oral (or aural?) sex.

Lost Girls written by Alan Moore and illustrated by Melinda Gebbie (the book is 16 years in the making and was quite the labor of love for the couple, who got married after it’s completion). Ah, yes, now this is the real deal right here, folks, described by Wikipedia as “an erotic graphic novel depicting the sexual adventures of three important fictional characters of the late 19th and early 20th century: Alice from Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland, Dorothy Gale from The Wizard Of Oz, and Wendy Darling from Peter Pan. They meet as adults in 1913, and describe and share some of their erotic adventures with each other.” Do they ever, and wonderfully so, I might add. There’s plenty of erotic adventures to be had and shared here in this collected 3 volume set, and the brilliant Moore is quite adamant that while this may be literary porn, it’s most definitely porn on display.

But it’s porn about storytelling, or rather the way that storytelling transforms us, especially as children grow up and into their sexuality. There’s something for just about every taste here and the writing is incredibly smart, arousing both your brain and the rest of you at the same time, and quite wonderfully. I’d have to give this my highest recommendation for those in search of dirty smart filthy wonderfulness, and I wouldn’t be too shocked if you see a much longer, and probably far more lurid write up on this beautiful piece in these pages in the future.

Well, that’s just a few choices for you to consider, again either for yourself or for someone near and dear to you, and we’ll probably have many more to share with you as well, just so long as you never forget that

okay? And because we’re benevolent smut sharers, we haven’t forgotten that you also like audio visual stimuli, so I share with you a lovely little clip entitled “Rub, Read & rub.” Enjoy and happy holidays to everyone.

It was a dark and stormy… holiday season.

Is it ever. It was miserable looking last week where I am (maybe that’s why I spend so much time looking at porn?)(beyond the fact that I do it for you people, that is), clear today, though freezing, and tomorrow the rain’s supposed to come in. Wonderful. But on top of it, if you’re like me - and let’s face it, you probably are – there’s still holiday shopping to be done!

Prepare thyself for a madhouse.

And the hardest part is always the what to get, you know? You know who you have to shop for, but what the hell are you going to get them? Well, Luna and I, being the artsy folk that we are, will tell you that films and books are always acceptable. They’re classy as hell, telling your gift recievee, “Hey, I may want your body, but I’ll definitely take your mind as well.” So, today I’m going to help you out just a little and maybe suggest a few books you should keep an eye out for in your last minute rush (or, if you just like reading interesting stuff in general).

The Sexual Life Of Catherine M. a memoir by Catherine Millet. Called “the most explicit book about sex ever written by a woman” by Edmund White, I’d have to agree, but I’ll say it’s one of the most wonderfully, joyously explicit books written about sexy by anyone. This book came into my life several years ago and for me to even barely put my love of it down into words may take much longer than we have right now (but may be a subject for a future post). Just know that if you go out and buy this one for someone, pick one up for yourself. Here’s a lovely interview with the author, which has one of my favorite taglines ever: “By day she was a sought-after curator and well-respected member of the French intelligentsia; by night she was an insatiable hedonist whose passion was indiscriminate sex with anonymous men.” Now, tell me, how can you not want to read that?

Choke by Chuck Palahniuk. I’m not going to say a lot about this book other than this is Palahniuk back when Palahniuk was still good. Before he became the ridiculous parody of himself always striving to shock you just one more time. His best book is Survivor, something I’d definitely recommend to you (especially for airplane reading), but this is his sex book (well, his first one). This is a chapter from the book, originally released in Playboy as the short story “Cruising Altitude.” There’s another, perhaps better preview chapter that was also released as a short story beforehand, but I’m having a hard time finding it. Ah, here it is. Also, I invite you to choke on (sorry, sorry) an interesting essay that Palahniuk wrote about the writing of the book, which was of course turned into a movie starring Sam Rockwell and Anjelica Huston and should be out on DVD any day now.

Crooked Little Vein by Warren Ellis. This is just a fun, fucked up book about how weird, wrong, and wonderful certain parts of America are. The titular crooked little vein is the part of this country that the main character travels on a quest to find… well, let’s just say that sometimes the journey is the destination, and this journey includes porn,  dirty (literally) politics, guys injecting things into their balls for a good time, and Godzilla bukkake. This is something I frequently give people as a gift. Hell, I even gave it to Luna for her birthday.

The Silent War: Ministering To Those Trapped In The Deception Of Pornography by Henry J. Rogers. I wouldn’t actually give this as a gift or recommend it to anyone. I only mention here because I ran across it at work and it’s bullshit.

Army@Love vol. 1: The Hot Zone Club by Rick Veitch. I mentioned this a while back and while it’s not a great graphic novel, it is a lot of fun in the way it deals with sex, love, and gender in wartime.

Fear Of Flying by Erica Jong. This 1973 book is a towering example of pro-sex feminism and all about indulging your fantasies. Also, it coined the term “zipless fuck” into the lexicon and that’s no small feat. This is a very nice excerpt from this book, a seminal classic.

All of those truly wonderful books (except for The Silent War, that is).

Quick mentions:

Bonk: The Curious Coupling Of Science And Sex by Mary Roach is a book that I’ve had for quite some time but haven’t found the opportunity to read yet, but it looks like it’ll be fascinating so I’d throw that on your list. I think it also bears mentioning that while searching for it on Amazon to share with you, I accidentally clicked on Boink: College Sex By People Having It and that just looks… nice.

The Best Of Sexology, edited by Craig Yoe, collecting articles from Sexolgy, The Illustrated Magazine Of Sex Science. Bathroom reading, maybe? Maybe even a nice coffee table book too.

The Intimate Sex Lives Of Famous People, a book that… well, do I even need to mention why this would be interesting? A good companion to this would probably be Sex Lives Of The Rich And Famous, because, well, again, do I even need to explain?

The Book Of Weird Sex by Chris Gordon. Damn. Someone took the title of my eventual autobiography.

Maybe the Hot Chicks With Douchebags book? I just don’t know how ironic you want to be.

Salmonella Men On Planet Porno: Stories by Yasutaka Tsutsui is worth the purchase just for the title alone, if you ask me.

Anything on this Boing Boing post would make a lovely gift, either for someone else or, much more importantly, for yourself, don’t you think?

I’ll let you digest all of that and we’ll call it part one with a part two to come tomorrow and then… will there be an erotic films holiday shopping list as well? I guess we shall see. But since some of these books are of an explicit nature, and you know what explicit tends to mean (BANNED), I’ll leave you with this lovely excerpt from an article by Phillip Pullman talking about book banning and censors…

Because they never learn. The inevitable result of trying to ban something – book, film, play, pop song, whatever – is that far more people want to get hold of it than would ever have done if it were left alone. Why don’t the censors realise this?

…and we’ll catch you tomorrow.

Lezzie Sunday.

Sin Titulo: Outside it’s cold and it’s grey, the weekend’s almost over, and you just want to enjoy your Sunday with some nice relaxing at home, right? That sounds lovely. You could read a book, listen to music, watch an old movie in bed, or just let your mind wander away…

Or, a friend of yours could join you for some making out on a couch and then maybe the two of you could find something better to get up to together, right?

Sure sounds nice to me. And hey, when you’re two adorable lesbians, like “Nella and Lidney“ here, spending some time together on a Sunday (or a Lezzie Sunday, if you will)(we apologize for that title, we really do), who the fuck needs books?

(Also, extra kudos to these lovely ladies, well the first girl anyways (whether she be Nella or Lidney) for her choice of footwear. If you’ve been paying any attention to the CK tumblr, then you know that Sin Titulo is a big fan of chucks, and of the girls who sport them.)

Luna?

Luna de Miel: I agree. I think making out with a lady on a Sunday on a couch sounds like probably in the top list of things I would want to do, maybe ever. There’s also being thoroughly fucked well by a hot MILF or maybe just meeting up with some friendly sorority girls and doing it all over her bed. Or maybe you’re a little shy about your bicurious tendencies and just want to spend the day watching another girl masturbate while someone tastefully films you from above. Or you’re in the mood for some professional porn star action in this incredibly hot video of a young teacher learning a lesson from her boss.

Whatever you decide, you’re going to kiss a girl and I think you’re going to like it..

(You really didn’t think I was going to stick Katy Perry on you, did I? I care more about you than that.)

“You’re my number 1, I’m like a dog to get you.”

“You’re my favorite moment, you’re my Saturday.”

Inspired by Kasia’s fine musical taste in yesterday’s post, today I want to share with you just a little bit of the sexy sounds and lusty beauty of one Alison Goldfrapp (and friend):

Miss Goldfrapp, who in conjunction with a man named Will Gregory, make up the ambient/electropop/folktronica (I swear I made that up in a bar conversation 10 years ago to impress a girl)/electroclash/synthpop/triphip (obviously you can blame Wikipedia for all of this) group that’s simply and brilliantly titled Goldfrapp. Nice, huh? This is the song playing at the very end of Kasia’s video:

“It’s called “Number 1,” and you’ve probably heard it before. Probably in a Gap, or in a Starbucks, who knows. You’ve probably heard of Goldfrapp before too, unless you’re against most forms of sexy music. I mean, you’ve definitely heard of them if you ever saw Hard Candy, in which they were an actual plot point of the movie.

True fans of the above genres will tell you that there’s much, much better artists than Goldfrapp in the business, and they’re right, but my God, isn’t a Goldfrapp a lovely package? Lush, beautiful songs with a dynamic, sexy voice and a singer that looks like a living incarnation of erotic 1970s dreams exploding out of your head. Or is that just my head? Or is that Goldfrapp’s “Lovely Head,” I wonder?

That’s “Ride A White Horse,” which you can take a metaphor for cocaine, certainly, or you can just take it as a funky, sexy song with an incredibly hot video. I choose to do both, thank you very much.

Regardless of the criticism of Goldfrapp, and there’s been a lot, say whatever you will about their music (and you’ll notice I’m less into justifying this group to you right now, or delving into their substance, when I can deliver unto you their very special spectacle), but they do what they do…

…quite nicely. Sin Titulo is a fan. Here’s the first song I ever heard by them a great many years ago, entitled “Pilots (On A Star),” a lovely candidate for a Bond song sound if I ever heard one, and here’s an incredibly beautiful song called “A&E.” And this…

…is “Strict Machine,” a song called “a future S&M club anthem if ever there was one,” according to PopMatters, and which to me, sounds like red hot sex filtered through a machine in a club to a brilliantly arousing array of lights with sultry synth just pulsating all over the place.

That’s “Ooh La La,” and as I watch these videos, I’m reminded of not only how sexy the music/general aesthetic of the group is, but how much fun too. This is how I wish my dreams were, just more drippingly hot. I think I’ll leave that as my final statement on Goldfrapp.

She’s tired of using technology.

For tonight’s entry into the hot, lusty world of Carnal Knowledge, I want to share with you one of my favorite videos, and in doing so, I want to stress the point to you that sometimes the simplest answer is usually the most accurate answer. Occam’s razor totally works in the world of porn, ladies and gents. And to prove that for you, I introduce you to the lovely Kasia:

Hi, Kasia. You totally notice the striped socks, right? Good, I’m glad. If you notice that, then you definitely notice the flexible dildo mounted on the shelf right behind the lovely Kasia too, don’t you? Yeah, you do. Let me just tell you right now that this clip, this clip that I love so much, simply entitled “Kasia Blue Dildo,” is just Kasia and that dildo. Here’s the clip again, and again, and again. Must be popular, right?

That’s a picture of Kasia seemingly chilling at home in her casual wear that I found on a fairly skeezy looking website (Face Down Ass Up university? I guess I’m thankfully that it wasn’t Face Down Ass Up high school or Face Down Ass Up community college). If that’s a set or what, I don’t know, but I love that they really put some work to make it look a real place someone would live in with the pictures, the CDs, the books, and what appears to be a bunk bed with a mounted dildo attached. I should point out that I also kind of love the music playing in that clip (there’s a little Goldfrapp happening at the end, did you notice?), because all sex should have a lovely soundtrack, right? Side note: I have to admit that I find PornoHub’s new slogan to be slightly distracting:

If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to go hunt down a ruler…

Here’s Kasia doing what she does on the Howard Stern show (sigh), and a nice clip of her masturbating outside in a catholic school girl outfit. Not a bad clip at all, even though I do prefer the featured one just a little better, but they also highlight what I like the most about Kasia: Beyond her cuteness, beyond her very flexible body, she seems to be having a fantastic time. Not just a fantastic time, but a laughing, giddy and giggling, crazy amount of fun good time, and that’s refreshing as hell. I’ve watched clips where you just knew that the girl was not having a good time at all, but you don’t get that sense with Kasia. Maybe it would be ruined if she was joined by a guy or a girl (though she does have a guy fuck her with a dildo in this clip), who knows. Maybe by just enjoying herself, she’s doing it Woody Allen-style (no, not that Woody Allen style): “Hey, don’t knock masturbation. It’s sex with the one I love.”

You’ll be glad you came!

That’s literally the tag line to this movie.

The sad thing about life right now is that Luna’s logged into the CK tumblr as we speak and posting images about movies based on Joan Didion novels and what am I doing? I’m sitting here talking about Porky’s. Sigh.

Yes, yes, yes, the mother of all teen sex comedies, directed by the usually awesome Bob Clark (if you’ve never seen the original Black Christmas, then you need to, it’s a classic of the horror genre, Olivia Hussey is absolutely gorgeous in it, and Carpenter’s Halloween totally ripped it off), featuring the most timeless plot in maybe the whole universe: a bunch of high school students trying to lose their virginity. That’s one of Polti’s 36 dramatic situations, right? Right? Well, it definitely should be, if it isn’t.

But here’s the sad thing, and the reason that we’re here today: I saw this movie as a kid (yeah, I did), and I’ve seen it probably 2 or 3 times since then, but I don’t remember much about it. A vast majority of it, between just a few scenes, never really stuck in my head. Now, I’m not here to talk about how sad that is, because… well, it’s just a teen sex comedy. That, and because of it, we have the American Pie trilogy (it’s so sad to say that), which I kind of hate, and numerous other poor quality knock offs, but what I want to share with you is those scenes that everyone knows and loves (and remembers), the girl’s shower/spy hole scene in particular, which Hulu, of all places (you’ll need to be logged in and certified as an adult), is more than happy to share with you.

The scene itself, on it’s own, not so bad. Very true to a high school mentality, especially a straight guy’s mentality in high school (which all teen sex comedies are based around, sadly) I think, and getting past it’s 1950′s setting, it makes you wonder, does anyone still shower in high school anymore?

But that’s not my favorite scene of the movie, nor the one that sticks out the most in my head. The one I love is entitled “Men’s Locker Room,” according to Hulu, which has a nice reverse perspective to the previous scene, I guess, and features a very young Kim Cattrall in it. This is her pre-Police Academy, pre-Big Trouble In Little China, pre-Star Trek VI, and very, very pre-Sex And The City. She’s young, she’s hot, she’s energetic, and she’s got an orgasm so loud and exciting that I get a little turned on just thinking about it.

Hulu’s got quite a few other clips up from the movie, which you should enjoy before they disappear, including the one where Kim Cattrall’s moral turpitude is questioned, and the clip where the eternal question of “Has anyone seen Mike Hunt?” is finally answered. Ah, good times. I hope you enjoy the flashback there and now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower…

who’s laughing now?

Here’s a truth that I hold to be self evident and have ever since I was a child: Clowns are fucking creepy, man. Seriously. They’re like painted demons who will razzle dazzle you with buffoonery and their pathetic jester-like antics… just until your parents look away. Then they’re aiming for your soul and they’ll gnaw on it for eternity!

Case in point:

Yeah, I think I’ve made my point right there, haven’t I? Tim Curry as Pennywise the clown from It. You need a moment to go piss yourself in terror as that memory overcomes you? Be my guest. Go for it. I’ll wait here. Probably doing the same thing, too.

Hell, Wikipedia has a whole article on the evil clown phenomenon sweeping across our nation. And don’t forget people like John Wayne Gacy. And this:

I feel your pain, Bart, I really do. And here’s a clown that was arrested for child porn. Doesn’t shock me at all. Not at all!

Years ago a friend told me that he wanted to start a new genre in porn: Clown porn. I laughed cause I thought he was joking, but when the laughter died, he was staring at me with these very serious, very intense eyes. He assured me that he was 100% serious. Do you want to know how I reacted? Very simply: I slapped him.

And then a while back, while compiling a post to celebrate my co-blogger’s birthday, I discovered this clip: “Hailey Wants A Big Cock For Her Birthday – Teens like it big.” Well, I don’t know Hailey too well, nor do I think she speaks for all teens on this one (big? sure, but big floppy clown shoe big? I hope not), but I can tell you something that title doesn’t share with you: She’s a sick bitch because she wants clown cock. Terrifying.

And if you do a search for clowns in your porn (and I can’t imagine why in the fuck you’d want to do that)(unless you’re a sick, stupid man like myself), you find a lot of variations of that same clip, like this one: “Birthday Clown Fucks Her In Ass.”

Just to make it more uncomfortable, you can gross yourself out some more by watching a drunk clown force a girl to suck his cock in “Clown gets a blowjob.” Ick.

And if you’re not numb or been driven psychotic by the weird pain, then I present you with one of the most bizarre, most horrible things I’ve ever seen in my life: “Pornoparanoid!” If that’s not the story of my life in a title, I don’t know what could be. In this clip, a very macabre looking clown literally climbs out of a jack in the box and begins molesting a woman sleeping in the nude. Especially uncomfortable: When he penetrates her with his big long nose. The constant soundtrack of what sounds like mental patients laughing in the background doesn’t make anything better. This is the very opposite of arousal.

Just look at that. Fucking terrifying, isn’t it?

Oh, and someone mentioned the Insane Clown Posse to me the other day, which was interesting. You know what the interesting thing is about those two guys? Fuck those guys. That’s the interesting thing.

BOO!