People assume that because I used to be a music journalist and now work as some kind of amalgamation of urban revitalization/social justice/music/travel/porn journalist that I've met a lot of celebrities. What people don't assume is that some celebrities you meet more than once. Or maybe, like, so many times that it's this unescapable cycle that occurs as often as the season change.
One time, my partner and I were covering a festival in the middle of the woods. Sometime between REO Speedwagon and Skrillex (no, I'm NOT making that up), we found what was once a Wild West-style attraction that had been converted into a Halloween attraction, then abandoned.
One thing you might not know about Shawn and me is that we’re both hardened criminals. I don’t care who knows that I have not one, but TWO traffic violations that are both years old. Shawn’s had even more speeding tickets than me. Do you know who doesn’t give a fuck about parking tickets sometimes? ME. That’s right. Fuck it, arrest me, bro!
I met Hunter Moore one time. He handed me a glass of lukewarm Skyy vodka and Drivenbyboredom's Igor Smith showed me he was an expert mixologist by putting a lemon wedge in it. We were at The Foundation Room in Mandalay Bay in Vegas, and it was the night before the AVNs. Moore repeatedly asked me if I was going to give him bad press, but really, I didn't have very many bad things to say about Moore. He'd done a genius thing: he'd created a website that was fueled by sexy user-generated content and the asshole in all of us.
You learn something new every day. And today I learned that former MILF porn actress Mona Love is from my hometown of Grand Rapids, MI. I also learned that she inadvertently helped get a man beaten to death with dumbbells.
I did a lot of things in New York this last week, including watch Pulp play as a band in America for the first time in over a decade. And as titillating as watching Jarvis Cocker's tiny pelvis thrust across the stage to "This is Hardcore" while fantasizing about nearly shattering that tiny pelvis, perhaps the most outwardly porn-erific thing I did this week was visit the Museum of Sex.
You've only got until April 14 to donate to Hollie Stevens' third drive to raise money for her ongoing battle with cancer. Beautiful and blonde, Stevens was pretty into clown porn staring in the movie of the same name. The opening scene is a couple of clowns coming into a dark bedroom, getting ready to duct tape the unsuspecting babe. And then Stevens wakes up and asks how she's gonna suck their hot clown dicks with duct tape on her mouth. Now most people know that I am what you would call "down with the clown" after years of being-a-small-child-when-It-was-on-TV coulrophobia, so that's pretty great. She's also a contributor to Girls & Corpses Magazine, which is a magazine about exactly that.
Sorry folks, I was away towards the end of last week and so, having no one to rely on but myself, this ol' blog sat dormant a few days. Lucky for you, Rylah decided to send in a new Murder Motel Travelogue which we always find, oh so entertaining.
Last month, I went to a terrible place. I went to the Rick Santorum party at the Amway Grand Plaza in Grand Rapids hotel the night of the Michigan Republican Primary. While I chose not to vote in the primary because I am not a Republican, I did want him to win. Because he's insane.
Flint, MI is boasted as the murder capital of the country, often being touted on a number of lists as anywhere between the first and fourth most dangerous city in the U.S., right up there with St. Louis. When deciding to explore Flint, we chose the Travel Inn because of the following negative review:
“They claim to have 24-hour porn, but they DO NOT!!!!”
Look, you guys. I’m going to be honest with you. This motel was a goddamn disappointment. But if you stick around, I will talk about masturbation.
I think the problem with most Craigslist Casual Encounters posts is that they are grammatically inaccurate and confusing. I am offering my services as a professional editor. At the very affordable rate of $5/post under 600 words, I will turn your drab, sloppy posts into hot, wet gold. Don’t believe me? Here are some amazing examples!
In my other life as a real journalist, I get about 200 press releases a day. Lately, way more, given that Mitt Romney's PR campaign is sending a new one every half hour and there is no unsubscribe option.
According to my extensive Internet research, the Knight’s Inn is not just a large, somewhat rundown hotel on the sketchy side of Plainfield Avenue, but rather a place where couples meet, greet and more. We were told one of these types of parties might be happening this very evening, so decided to see if we could crash and dash.