This week: The film that no one (except Steve Hirsch) asked for: Ocotomom, the movie. If I could give advice to youth of today, it would be that penis enlargement kits don't work. Playboy comes to the iPad, cleaning kits for the iPad expected to meet with unprecedented demand. And much, much more.

What's new in Juliland.com: A photoset and movie with January's JGrrl, Jayden Cole (say that three times fast), Fotoland sets from Angel Vain and Bridgette B. and a movieland update starring Audrey Bitoni!

Oh no she didn't — Octomom dips her toes in the porn pool.

I love Bobbi Starr. She's one of my very favorite people in the porno industry. She's beautiful, smart, a talented oboe player (obo-er? Obo-ma-boe?). I'm just head over heels in love with her. Well maybe not actual love. Maybe it's closer to a mutual respect coupled with lots of lust.

Lucky for me, I've got lots and lots of opportunities to watch Bobbi strip down to the nude and have sex. Sometimes with boys, sometimes with girls, sometimes by herself. I've even got a few good resources to hear about Bobbi's non-sexual ideas, because she's no slouch in the department of brains. But there's one resource sorely lacking when it comes to my fandom of Bobbi Starr: I can't think of a single website where I can view full photo sets of Bobbi Starr grooving out inside a cage.

In the pantheon of things that will rot your brain, I am either obsessed with or work in the big three: pornography, comic books and video games.

Porn you know all about and if you don't, well, happy 18th birthday kid. Video games we'll talk about another time — but this time around, the focus is on comics (especially since I just finished Garth Ennis and Steve Dillion's excellent series, "The Preacher").

I have a confession to make. It's something that may come as a shock to some of you. Some of you, though, might be on to me. But trust me, once you read this, you'll never see me the same way again.

Let me reassure you that yes, I was born a woman and no, I am not planning on taking a trip to Thailand because sexual reassignment surgery is so cheap there. I remain a performer that's proud to work on the gonzo side of the adult entertainment business. I am also not Justin Bieber, nor do I suffer from Bieber fever. (I hear the only treatment for that is to listen to music that doesn't suck.)

It seems like like just about every freaking minute nowadays, we’re hearing about one porn star or another jumping the aisle to star in a mainstream project. Jenna Jameson did that Zombie Stripper thing. Sasha Grey is on that Jeremy Piven show, and she starred in some Soderbergh thing (she played Che Guevara in Solaris, I think?). Jill Kelly and Chasey Lain played the chicks hired to bang that kid in He Got Game. And now, finally, after years and years of hoping, waiting, dreaming and praying, Bobbi Starr is finally starring in an Albert Brooks movie.

Seriously, I'm gonna have to start watching TV if I want to have any sort of future in porn. It's just getting to the point where I've never heard of half the things that are getting parody-ized (is that a word? Parodized, maybe?) in porno these days. And that's not saying that the properties getting spoofed these days are without their cultural merit. Rather, I'm just so far out of the loop that I don't quite know what's what anymore. I mean, I'm familiar with The Brady Bunch, Cheers, Seinfeld and all those mega-popular shits from days of yore, but I can't say I ever heard of anything like The Big Bang Theory until Lee Roy had his way with it. Heck, I never heard of TMZ until Bangs told me he and BUCKTON were spoofing it. It makes it harder and harder to believe that no one's touched Twin Peaks yet.

Listen. I don't know exactly what this thing's all about. All I know is that a disc arrived on my desk with a short video file on it and a note that said (and this is the original spelling, not my own): "YOU PLAY THIS ON YOR PORNO SITE OR YOU IS GET KILLED."

And I sure don't want to be killed.

Isn't the digital age great? Random hoo-hah like this can just pop up out of nowhere.

At the risk of sounding like a hippie, all you need is love.

At least, I believe that when it comes to marriage. I don't hold any sort of idealized, my-prince-will-come image of the whole thing, but I do think love, in all its abstractions and variations, is a good place to start if you want to get hitched.

To his credit, U.S. District Chief Judge Vaughn R. Walker just decreed as much in his ruling in California's anti-gay marriage ballot proposal, or Proposition 8. The state, he wrote, "has no interest in differentiating between same-sex and opposite-sex unions."

Unless you've been living under a rock or in Utah, porn parodies are hot. They're like what tranny videos were to 2006. Remember how popular tranny videos were a few years ago? Of course you do, even if you claim not to know anything about chicks with dicks.

Like the popularity of Bieber Fever, or the continuing directorial career of M. Night Shyamalan, there's really no explaining why these things are popular. The same goes for porn's latest love affair with "parodies."

Notice the quotes around "parodies."

Hey, look at that! BUCKTON's laying in bed with Bobbi Starr! You might know Bobbi from the career-defining roles she played in POPPORN: The Guide to Making Fuck and How to Be a Ladies Man (or possibly from the bazillion other movies she's appeared in).

BUCKTON was luck enough to catch up with Bobbi a few months back during this year's AEE shindig in Las Vegas. Having worked with POPPORN before, Bobbi turned down our requests for an interview, so our crew had no choice but to sneak into Bobbi's hotel room and interview her before she even had a chance to get out of bed. Really, it's the only way to deal with that sort of situation. Besides, we had the OK from Bobbi's man-friend (who was last seen on POPPORN as few weeks ago blow-drying BUCKTON's nutsack).

Are you a woman who struggles with road rage and an insatiable libido? Do you often find yourself screaming obscenities through your windshield at the other cars on the freeway while secretly wishing you were in bed, sipping a glass of wine and shoving a man's face into your pulsating vagina?

Every 365 and a quarter days the people of Western civilization chuck out their old calendars, hang up new ones (preferably the Nerdcore 2010: Horror calendar), and resolve to stop fucking up their lives and start taking steps toward self-improvement. After a series of holidays that involve repeatedly gorging yourself with fatty foods, guzzling down booze, and spending wads of cash, it's not surprising to find yourself in a state of introspection during that final week of vacation, wondering why you're still fat, broke, and no better off than you were the previous year. At this point, it seems appropriate to set a few goals for yourself so that you don't find yourself in the same predicament at the end of the following year. Unfortunately, the majority of these goals end up falling by the wayside by the time summer rolls around, but occasionally one survives long enough to find itself realized, and if you never set any goals in the first place, you'll probably never achieve anything. Let's take a minute to examine a few of the more common goals people set for themselves at the beginning of each year.

Ahhh, the 80s . . . when America's masculine heartthrobs wore make-up, perms, and tight tapered jeans. How can a girl resist the allure of a shirtless guitarist in spandex pants pouring his heart into a classic 80s power ballad? Sure, I spent years studying classical music, but that doesn't mean I don't have a deep appreciation for the finer aspects of America's rich pop culture.

I know what you're thinking . . .

You're thinking, "Damn, I wish I could live the life of a porn star." While you're sitting at work entering data into a computer, convincing customers that they really need that extended warranty, or whipping up a grande caramel macchiato, some people are getting paid to engage in copious copulation with beautiful people all day.

It's been a long day at work. You're belly is starting to grumble, and you don't have nearly enough energy to cook dinner. As you drive past a McDonald's, you think, "Damn, I could really go for a Big Mac right about now." (This wouldn't be my personal preference, but with billions and billions served, I suspect this craving is experienced by many.) The building looks suspiciously deserted, and as you pull up to the drive through window, you find it closed and obscured by a notice stating, "Closed by the US Supreme Court for distributing unhealthy products within the community."