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Whenever I’m having One Of Those Days, it usually means things have gone awry on set, which I sometimes refer to as a clusterfuck.

When I was a school teacher and had a clusterfuck, it usually meant discipline problems. When things went awry as a stockbroker, it meant I had a “sell-out”. (A sell-out (AKA “DK”) is when the client confirms a trade, and then gets cold feet and backs out — and doesn’t pay for the stock they bought). Same when I sold cars; when the deal fell through my day was totally fucked.

Like I need to actually explain this to you? You deal with clusterfucks all the time — it’s part of life. Read more

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I want a girlfriend that isn’t a whore. Is that really so much to ask?

Not that being a whore is a bad thing; in fact, I’ve said it more than once: if I had a pussy, it would be for sale. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being a whore — I just don’t want one for a girlfriend.

Let’s face it, too: most girls in today’s society are whores, trained by their parents to be whores…only they don’t realize it. Neither do their parents.

“Marry a doctor. Marry a lawyer. Make sure your husband has a good job!”

Whore Training 101. Read more

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I sharted yesterday — really bad.

It’s not like I haven’t sharted before, and let’s face it — you have, too. There’s been a handful of times over my past, say, 30 years (give or take), I’ve gone to fart, only to discover — to my utter dismay — solid matter flying out of my butthole with the bad air.

I really shouldn’t say the solid matter was “flying” out of my arse, cause every time I’ve sharted in the past, it’s been nothing more than an embarrassing little shit stain in my undies.

Yesterday’s incident was entirely different. Read more

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Truman writes:

You haven’t blogged lately. It’s like when 3000 years ago and the Egyptian Gods were silent, warning us of an impending invasion of locusts….

The sun is setting in the West (Death) and we mortals sit, huddled along the Nile. The reeds are growing limp.

What’s going on? We implore an explanation. Is there anything we can do to help the Sun rise in the morning, Billy-Ho-tep?

Snap your whip against the impending disaster, we pray!

Either that, or just tell us how you’re doing.
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I’m just dandy, Truman, although my blogging skills haven’t been lately. I know I’ve said this before, but I’m always worried about sounding like a broken record, even for the few readers I have left. It’s pretty amazing how fast people flee when they sense a blog is dead, and I don’t blame them.

It’s tough to blog, too, when nobody gives a shit, and really, that’s how I can sum up the online biz since about 2008 or so: no one gives a shit.

Well, maybe that’s not true. People do care, but not enough to pay for it anymore.

There was a day when people coveted their porn. Smut was something that wasn’t really easy to come by, and when you got it, you treasured it. Sounds creepy, I know, but it’s true. We all had some sort of hidden stash o’ smut somewhere. For me it was a fort out in the middle of the Arizona desert (until I was 15) and then it was under the corner of the carpet in my closet throughout high school. When porno came to VHS I’d just rent and return.

We all know it’s not anything close to pirate’s treasure; in fact, it’s totally disposable. Totally available. Totally for free. Totally grown limp, on the bank of the river Nile, ready to die.

This is the part I was talking about…sounding like a broken record.

What next?

Is there a next?

For me, anyway. I mean it’s not like I can just jump back into a classroom; I’m tarnished goods. It’s not like I can find a job outside of what I was trained for, cause we all know what the current State of the Union as it pertains to Employment. But I gotta think of the future, right? And until The Powers That Be sit down with Apple and Microsoft and concoct some sort of way to make it difficult to play media files the end user hasn’t paid for…well, I just don’t see it getting better anytime soon.

I’m not just talkin’ smut, either; mainstream movies and the music business are dying on the vine, too.

All this kinda depresses me, and when I’m depressed, I don’t wanna blog. I just kinda wanna boo-hoo in my morning coffee and then start my day.

One thing that cheered me up was Melanie Rios, who’s showing off her tremendous camel toe today for you guys. I also like taking arty-farty pics of naked girls in a Panda mask. And did I tell you I just found a copy of a really rare Wilco record I didn’t even know existed? Or how I got to listen to Julian Schnabel introduce the Dennis Hopper show at MOCA?

Think anyone’s ever gonna pay for porn anymore, or has the sun already set? And does anyone even care about a filthy, perverted smut peddler and how he pays his bills? Or will it take a complete cease and desist of porno production before anyone notices?

Think I can pull my head out of my ass enough to blog, say, every three or four days this month?

Think I can be gay for Wilco through 2012?

Will we even be here after 2012?

Only time will tell.

Your pal,

Billy-Ho-tep Watson

ishootporn.com

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Tori Luxx is a new(ish) Spiegler Girl who’s been making the rounds lately.

I like Tori. A lot. She’s totally alt, kinda shy, a little bit country…and a little bit rock ‘n roll. I have no idea if she eats bacon or not, but if she does, I’d imagine she likes it kinda well done and crispy. Like her toast. Wheat only, and light on the butter, please.

The first time I shot her, she played a domineering cuckoldress for the world-famous Cuckold Sessions. You guys know what a cuckold is, and hers was especially creepy that day, even going as far as softly sucking her toes as we waiting for an over-heated Sean Michaels to regain his wood. Read more

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The Galactic One asks:

1) What camera is best to shoot porn that is affordable ie: 1K or thereabouts. I know you have addressed this topic before on your site but I can’t locate it. Canon GL1? I have heard conflicting answers on this as some poeple say that it’s the lighting that is most important and the camera can be almost any average cam. Read more

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1. Super Dumb e-Mails: For example, the one my boss just FWD’d me: u niggers suk. u cry about racism, but u push it! making white sissys watch my ass. u niggers are crap for people. u have everything handed to u, so you can collect your food stamps and make porn. slavery made u strong, and u cry about it all the time. now little white girls hating their dad fuk u, but u are still niggers. number one cause of death for 18-30 year nigger male being killed by another nigger male. 405 lb bench press 4.5 forty and ten inches hitting the end of the pussy (they can’t take more than eight,so it doesn’t matter dipshit), but i have to watch slave decendants get paid for sports,because of slavery and the genetic breeding. stupid niggers good for nothing but entertainment. do a song, dance, and jig in the end zone while fucking your little crak whores who hate their white daddies. niggers self destruct. nigger nigger nigger Read more

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When I was in junior high, I had a Social Studies teacher who was a total hippy. He’d play records on one of those small turntables you’d get from the A/V department at the school’s library, while we were working on whatever it was we were working on that day. One of his records was “The Worst of Jefferson Airplane”, and I’d always wonder why anyone would name anything “The Worst” of…until now.

I have no idea what became of Zoie and Tonya and Solé after our day together. Like most of the girls and suitcase pimps in this biz, they disappeared not long after I shot them. If you ever wonder what happens to girls after porn, I’d say most stay in the sex biz, mostly escorting or stripping, but some manage to move on to other things. As a matter of fact, someone claiming to be Zoie left a message here a while back, and I kept it up…just so you could e-mail her and hook up a tryst at her brothel. Read more

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I Shoot Porn: Let’s start this out by talking about your last scene, which you shot a few days ago.

Vanessa Naughty: I did a gang bang cuckold scene, and Steve Driver was my cuckold.

ISP: You mean Steve Driver — The Murderin’ Mope?

VN: Yea.

ISP: I didn’t know Steve was taking cuckold roles. Then again, why would I know what kind of roles he’s been getting. I always thought he was just a bad mope. Read more

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The Producer e-mailed me today: Hey Billy — are you going to be able to shoot some Blacks on Boys stuff soon? We really need content!

I was standing in line for my chicken bowl at Chipotle when the e-mail hit; I read it from the GMail app on my iPhone.

No Way Am I Gay, but the iPhone fucking rocks. I don’t even care what The Haters say, cause, once upon a time, I was one of those haters. I hated Apple, and I hated iPhones, and I hated the Apple sticker people who are into Apples stick all over their shit. Read more

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When I was in junior high, I had a Social Studies teacher who was a total hippy. He’d play records on one of those small turntables you’d get from the A/V department at the school’s library, while we were working on whatever it was we were working on that day. One of his records was “The Worst of Jefferson Airplane”, and I’d always wonder why anyone would name anything “The Worst” of…until now.

Could this be a true story, dressed up as fiction?

This blog’s original air date: February 19, 2006.

Once upon a time, there lived a man named Billy Watson. He lived in the land of Smallville, and he was pretty much your average guy, except for the way in which he earned his money. You see, Billy was in the adult entertainment business. Well, some called it that. Some also called it porn, or smut — or yet another reason why society is in the shitter.

Billy Watson was just on the cusp of middle age, and this made him kinda sad. He felt he was losing any sort of excitement about life, and that each day was just churning into the next. But excitement was just around the corner, and he didn’t even know it.

One morning, his phone rang. Very Early. Anyone Billy knew – and wanted to talk to – knew he doesn’t like getting up early in the morning to chat — about anything.

“This is Detective Dicksucker. From the Smallville Police Department. Are you Billy Watson?”

Poor Billy was still in Dreamy-Dream Land. He was having a great dream that morning…a dream about making love to a beautiful woman.

Billy’s a fan of beautiful women. He’s not a fan of cops.

Detective Dicksucker didn’t even give him a chance to reply. “Did you send an Overnight Package to Little Brother?”

Indeed, Billy had just sent Little Brother a package just the previous day.

Billy was still in wake-up mode, so he slowly asked again, “Who is this?” and after Detective Dicksucker repeated his name, Billy asked him to spell it.

The detective shouted, “I’m Dicksucker! It’s spelled like it sounds!”

Billy asked for a call back number, and Detective Dick Sucker barked the same question — Did you send an Overnight Package to Little Brother? — so Billy asked again for a call back number, and The Detective, in a very angry tone, gave a “cell number”.

Billy hung up right away.

Then Billy does what he does every morning when he first wakes up – he went pee pee. While he was whizzing away, he cleared his head, then left the bathroom to call Little Brother and find out which one of the dummies Little Brother worked with was playing the silly joke on both of them.

But when Billy called Little Brother, Little Bro was already on the phone…with Smallville’s finest. And Detective Dicksucker was grilling him, too; and just like Billy Watson, Little Bro wasn’t answering a thing. Our fine Detective had quite an attitude problem, and both Billy and Little Bro wondered is this how police are supposed to talk to people on the phone?

You know what else was weird? Detective Dicksucker also knew Little Bro’s home home address — even though it was nowhere on the Overnight Package — which triggered Billy to think maybe this isn’t a joke someone is playing on us…

Shall we flash forward to the white van pulling up in front of Little Brother’s office, in the very heart of Smallville? Or the 3 guys in black suits who got out, holding the Overnight Package?

Or shall we flash back to all the obscenity cases in Smallville that had to do with sending adult materials through various forms of delivery services, mostly the Postal Service?

Oh, flash backs and flash forwards! Such interesting devices used in fiction which can sometimes be very effective!

Wait. Our fable gets better. When Billy Watson makes dirty movies in La La Land, a place where it’s perfectly legal to make dirty movies, and the movies he makes there are perfectly legal, and when he gets a lot of dirty movies made, Billy sends an Overnight Package to Little Bro. Little Bro gives the package to a fine fellow named Creepy Q, and Mister Q processes the dirty movies and turns it all into little files that websites can use so all the pervy bastards in all the land can beat their meat like monkies at the zoo.

This, of course, makes the world a better place.

So now let’s flash forward to Billy’s now-fogless brain processing what Little Bro just said, then hanging up and logging on to Overnight Package’s website, and tracking the Overnight Package, and seeing that, indeed, it’s being held at the “Distribution Center”.

That means no one was playing a dirty trick on Billy Watson and Little Bro and Creepy Q.

And that’s when Billy Watson called The Producer.

And that’s when The Producer called The Lawyer.

And that’s when Detective Dicksucker called Billy Watson back, wanting to know why Billy hung up on him.

And that’s when Billy Watson’s make-up artist walked in to his studio in LaLa Land, with his female talent for this day’s dirty movie.

And that’s when Billy asked – again – for a name spelling on “Dicksucker” and a call back number, which he got.

Billy hung up. Poor Billy’s head was spinning, and he didn’t know what to do, so he walked the talent and make-up artist to the make-up room and pretended that everything was mighty fine in the land where they make dirty movies.

After a minute that seemed like an hour, Billy called The Producer back. The Producer still couldn’t locate The Lawyer.

Billy hung up and called Little Brother to verify if what was happening was indeed happening – which Little Brother verified.

Poor Billy. Poor Little Brother. Poor Creepy Q.

Billy walked around the studio in La La Land, freaking out. So he called Little Bro back and they made a plan…a plan which included how to handle things when the cops show. And sure enough, that’s when a white van without a license plate pulled up and three dudes in nice suits stepped out, and one of them was holding the Overnight Package.

Billy’s phone rang. He was still on the phone with Little Brother, going over what to do when someone’s arrested and placed in handcuffs and read their rights, and sure enough, it’s Detective Dicksucker! The Good Detective wants to know why Billy’s not returning his calls.

So what’s Billy do?

Put him on hold.

Little Brother wanted to know what was about to happen. See, Little Bro’s a good person. A very good person who’s never been in trouble once, except when he went pee-pee in public and got a ticket for doing so. Other than that, he’s never dealt with cops before. So this type of game isn’t one he knows too well.

Poor Billy doesn’t know it much better…it’s just that he’s had more time on this planet than Little Brother…so he knew a bit more. Just a bit, though. And Billy was almost afraid to verbalize what he’s about to say to Little Brother at this very moment in time: Bro…if they arrest you, just tell them your name and that you want to talk to your lawyer. That’s it. Don’t tell them a fucking thing. Not a thing. Don’t answer a question. Don’t get upset. And we’ll get The Lawyer over there and everything will be just fine.

Little Brother asked Billy Watson to stay on the phone with him; Billy agreed, of course.

In a last-ditch attempt to call The Lawyer, Billy picked up the studio phone in La La Land. Little Brother’s in one ear, the lawyer’s office is in the other. The office lady who worked for The Lawyer answered the phone and said, “He’s in court. I’m sorry.”

The Lawyer had an Assistant – and The Assistant was on another line. Which meant no one could talk to Billy Watson.

Billy said, “It’s 911 time, and I need to talk to The Assistant!”

So what does Office Lady do?

Put Billy on hold.

One very long minute later Office Lady came back, and Billy pleaded, “Can you please get up and walk into the office? Because we have A Situation here.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t leave my station.”

So what can Billy do but leave a message? Then Billy hung up with Office Lady and talked Little Brother through The Situation. Billy said to just walk out there and introduce yourself. Tell them that’s your package, and just be honest. That’s all we can do. “We’re not breaking the law, that’s for sure. I mean nothing we’re doing here is illegal…at least nothing to my knowledge. I’ll hang up and call Detective Dicksucker and talk to him as you walk out there. I’ll tell him the whole deal.”

So that’s what Billy did.

And that’s what Little Brother did.

Funny, but when Little Brother got to the other office, the package was already opened. Another employee opened the package because Detective Dicksucker said it was “OK for someone else besides Little Brother to open the package” — even though it was addressed to Little Brother.

That doesn’t sound right to me!

And Detective Dicksucker turned out to be part of Smallville’s “Homeland Security”, and the package turned out to be “one of 18,000″ randomly searched that day, and when Billy Watson wouldn’t play nice with Detective Dicksucker, and when Little Brother wouldn’t…well, that’s when “protocol” was initiated.

How does our fable end?

Turned out our Detective found the whole thing kinda funny. He apologized and said he didn’t want to spell his name cause, well, he deals with terrorists and drug dealers and he doesn’t like his name being spelled out over the phone. He also told Billy Watson people talk way too much over the phone, and that Billy did exactly what Detective Dicksucker would have done, too. He thanked Billy Watson over the phone, shook Little Brother’s hand, and wished them both good luck.

All three sharply dressed G-Men got into their white van and sped off down the street.

The End?

ishootporn.com

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A site called Media Take Out — “the most visited urban website in the world” — has reported that porn star Aryanna Star was, at one time, a child actress who appeared on an 80’s TV show called A Different World.

I’d link back to them, but their reporting is so fucking terrible they don’t deserve it; in fact, anyone who had a hand in writing this entry deserves a sock in the nose…but I would never hit a person. It’s against my good nature.

Why do they deserve to get smacked around? The same reason any erroneous reporter deserves to be smacked around — cause they’re erroneous. There’s nothing more sacred than The Truth. There’s nothing more powerful than The Written Word. And there’s nothing worse than a journalist who doesn’t know the facts. Read more

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White Stick Dick writes:

Billy: Very attractive whiteboi 35 who makes 80k per yr and has a tiny thin whiteboi clit. Would love to serve as a whiteboi bitch in a cb6000 and eat black MAN’s sweet cum out of a bimbo princesses treasurebox. I think I would be perfect as an attractive whiteboi I am a perfect example of submission to black inches. The whitebois should be slapped and pushed around more by the bulls and barbies so please hire me for cuckold sessions!
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What timing! I’m actually looking for new cuckolds! You’re probably not very serious though, as most of the e-mails I receive are pretty much the same: dudes want to get onto the site, and when it’s really offered up — they balk. Or “think about it”… Read more

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I Shoot Porn: So, out of about 500 (give or take) scenes over at Blacks on Blondes, you’re rated #1 by the members. Aren’t you special?

Amy Brooke: I feel special. I remember the scene, you know what I mean? I was excited cause I got to work with Shane Diesel, cause I never had before. It was a challenge for me. Maybe not. I mean I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t done that much IR, but I like the fact that Shane and Rico Strong are on my level as far as freakishness goes. And the whole scene felt good…not that it felt good sexually, but that we were putting on a great show. I didn’t really have to “think” — it just happened. I hate having to carry a scene by myself. I also like being surprised when I’m working, and Shane surprised me for sure. I wasn’t choreographed. Read more

Mike South

Mike South

My friend Tony sent me this and I think it is the PERFECT illustration of whats wrong in this country, not just with republicans but Democrats as well, there is no better reason to vote Libertarian than the points outlined here:

An open letter to conservatives

March 22, 2010, 3:16PM

Dear Conservative Americans,

The years have not been kind to you. I grew up in a profoundly Republican home, so I can remember when you wore a very different face than the one we see now.  You’ve lost me and you’ve lost most of America.  Because I believe having responsible choices is important to democracy, I’d like to give you some advice and an invitation. Read more

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It’s finally spring here in God’s Country, the temp outside is working its way towards 80 today.

And I find myself missing my friend Lindsey Lovehands (you too Al but I can’t write about you cuz that would just be gay)

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  Read more

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When I was in junior high, I had a Social Studies teacher who was a total hippy. He’d play records on one of those small turntables you’d get from the A/V department at the school’s library, while we were working on whatever it was we were working on that day. One of his records was “The Worst of Jefferson Airplane”, and I’d always wonder why anyone would name anything “The Worst” of…until now. Read more

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Charlie Hustles posted on Adult DVD Talk: Would you marry a pornstar? I’ve come to the conclusion that this is most likely my destiny, hahaha.

 

Funny…I’m not laughing. Read more

Mike South

Mike South

I’m drinking a beer. Why? Because in my life, and what I’ve been through, and what I’ve seen, I deserve to drink a beer. I deserve to drink. A. Lot. Of. Beer!

I was thinking about life today, and the cookie-cut picture we see that we’re supposed to envision and push for… for ourselves. I should be going to the gym. I should be drinking lots of water. I should be doing a lot of things that I’m not doing… why? Because it’s not practical. Read more

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It’s a classic interracial match-up: Tweety Valentine v. Flash Brown.

 

Tweety is 4′11″ and tips the scale right around 95 pounds.

Flash is 6′6″, 230. Read more

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The Producer and I were talking about creating a new site. This was 18 months ago. Maybe more. Maybe less.

 

He had some ideas. The Producer wanted lotsa of black guys and a white girl. He wanted interracial bukakke. He wanted to create something controversial. Then, he asked me for some input. Read more

Janie Jones

Janie Jones

When I first met Janie Jones, she wasn’t Janie Jones. She was Jane Doe, and she’s from the mid-west, and she was fresh off the bus and doing go-sees that day.

 

(A “go-see” is Porno Speak, and it’s all about taking the girls around town and showing them off to producers and directors. It’s really nothing more than a cattle call, something akin to the Howard Stern show — when Howard and his Gang “evaluate” girls for Playboy. Read more

Vicki Chase

Vicki Chase

From time to time I have guests blog whatever it is they feel like blogging. I will not tell them what to blog; I won’t edit it; I won’t influence the Guest Blogger in any way.

 

I met Vicki Chase right before she jumped into the porno game; she was stunt-cock Eric John’s personal assistant. I ended up getting her first scene, too — over at The Dick Suckers. A few months later, Eric proposed to Vicki on my set. Read more

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Whenever somebody points the finger and starts up The Blame Game, I like to call it “The Blame It on Yoko Effect”.

 

Stop me, oh, stop me
Stop me if you think that you’ve
Heard this one before
Stop me, oh, stop me
Stop me if you think that you’ve heard this one before Read more

 

Mike South

Mike South

 

I was thinking about the abysmally sorry state of affairs that the porn biz has found itself in of late. While considering such creatively void fare as  So and So “has a Negro Problem”  and “Gag Faktor” my mind started wandering to the “next big things in porn” that never happened.  Like the so called “couples porn” and more recently “alt porn”,  Eon McKai is to porn what “The Archies” were to Rock and Roll.  Ian MacKaye should have hunted him down and impaled him with neck of his guitar for taking a homonymous name.  Indeed the difference is the same as the difference between a carat and a carrot and I hope I don’t need to tell you which is which. Someone needs to notify Joanna Angel and the moron over at Magna who thought it was a good idea that alt porn died so a magazine about it was a colossal waste of money, even if it did get him laid, which it probably didn’t. Read more

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