Wednesday,
July 25th, 2001
l-keford.com's Summer Fiction Issue
Momma, Say It Ain't So - By Gregory Bowman
As he spends a lazy afternoon in his office overlooking the infamous Valley of Porn, Gregory Bowman, the King of Putzdam, sips his private roasted Kona Coffee, a coffee, he boasts to all his male friends, which is roasted by a tall blonde who loves him deeply. In reality, the tall blonde is John, a surfer in Hawaii, who grows and roasts the beans for Gregory and sends the King of Putzdam a few pounds every month.
Once in a while, King Bowman finds a booty within his neatly wrapped bag of glistening, black beans he cherishes so much. "Vas iz dis?" he snickers as he pulls a baggie with a green leafy material from the package. "Hmm...my police training would lead me to believe this is marijuana" AHA! no wonder John loves me so much and send me his finest coffee. He's growing pot behind my house in Kona, the bastard!.....Gold baby,......Gold!"
El Grego goes to his mahogany humidor, tucked away between a book on Papua New Guinea, and a a worn but well loved copy of "Ten Tragedies of William Shakespeare". "Bill, old man,...say hello to my little friend" as he gingerly removes the Cohiba cigars and tucks his lil bag of greenery in amongst the label of many a good cigar. "Port with cigars and DONUTS with Mary Jane"
As he sits back at his boorish desk, Herr Bowman hits the intercom. "Faye......send everyone to my voice mail, Im gonna take the afternoon off" "Yes Mr. Bowman", Faye replies back in a gentle voice. As she takes her finger of the button, she mumbles under her breath, "He's always taking the afternoon off.....probably looking at PORN-O again on that damn Internet. "King Perv" she giggles.
He voraciously knoshes on a coconut macaroon dipped in the best white and dark chocolate from Switzerland. "Hmm...reminds me of Edelweiss....YUM!" as he pops the whole thing in his mouth laughing,......"Sucks to be meeeee.......!"
Off the screen goes the latest dividend report and up comes the never-ending l-keford.COM. His eyes quickly scan down the page as the banners wink at him, begging, lusting, wanting a subscription. "Ha! Van Nuys and Ventura.........I hate that intersection!" "Too many Polish wannabe porn stars and Mexican bukkake boys hanging out in the bank parking lot. But, hey Sollie's and Jerry Deli's are within a few blocks so who am I to complain?" He momentarily closes his eyes and sees a #12 off the giant menu, "YUM!! Pastrami, chopped liver and onions on rye with your choice of potato salad or cole slaw..........too bad it doesn't come with fries." He remembers that a side fries at Jerry Deli cost about ten bucks.
Getting back to the King of Porn Gossip, Luke F-rd, His Majesty, the man who would be PUTZ, reads more and belts out a sturdy laugh, "SHMATTE!! I love that word, I'm gonna name my first born......"SHMAAAAAATTE".....haha!"
As he reads more and slam dunks another macaroon, The Prince of Putz stammers.....he leans closer to the monitor, his eyes have the same look as when he watched his first porno movie at Murray Fishmann's house in in 8th grade. He remembers it was "candy" something and was a hit. He scrutinizes the words carefully. "Mike South??......what the hell......?" he reads on,
Luke says: I referred Blake to MikeSouth.com who replied: I got your email from Luke F-rd. so you want to be a porn director huh? Do you have any background in film or video production? Photography? Do you know what shutter speed is? what F-Stop is? Depth of field? ....
"MOMMA!!!...........El Putzo leaps to his feet and runs to his private bathroom as if he is about to projectile vomit his cherished coffee and macaroon afternoon snack. He pushes the door open and slides across the marble floor. Leaning into the mirror, loosening his prized Jerry Garcia gecko tie that many a babe has wanted to touch.....he glares deeply into the mirror at his own reflection.
"Momma!", he yells even louder......."I read on Luke!....Mike South.........s---!...I answered all his questions without even thinking, everyone of them, and he didn't even mention FIP or Stringer!!! AAAAAAA!!!" Bowman yelled. He falls to his knees, never breaking the eye contact with himself in the mirror. Gregory puts both hands over his face as if to pray and whispers as if he's in a proper Catholic confessional........................."I'm doomed".
The Elvis wannabe King gathers himself off the floor and walks stoicly to the steam shower and flips a switch and turns a dial. A hissing noise is heard as he opens the glass door and steps in. What a beautiful shower it is. All glass with custom made tiles depicting parrots the King owns in his collection.
His Royal Dumbkoft steps under the jets and lets the hot water run through his hair. He stands there lifeless, fully clothes, arms at his side. After 20 minutes, He steps from his glass, metal, and stone sanctuary, hoping this new found shame has been washed from his oh so pious body and down the drain to the Porn Valley sewer system.
Bowman again approaches the mirror hoping for a second chance at redemption. He wipes the condensation from the mirror with a hand towel, stands up straight and proud and looks again. The confusion and disappointment is self-evident. He leans into the mirror and, after a deep breath in, proclaims,
"Oh my God!......I'm a PORN DIRECTOR!" His Unholiness falls to the floor again, weeping from his plight. A knock on the door and a muffled woman's voice is heard, "Mr. Bowman??....are you OK?". It's Faye, his most loyal secretary. "Greg? are you all right?" she says as she quickly walks over to him with worry.
"Faye, am I? ...am I?" he blurts out with desperation, looking up at her with a confused and frightened look.
"Are you what?.... and why are all wet?" Faye is now very concerned for her Grand Master who cuts her monthly check. "Are you sick?... should I call 911?". He can hear the panic in her voice.
"Faye,...... am I a PUTZ PORN DIRECTOR???" the dethrowned King blurts out.
As Faye drapes a robe around the most Ignoble of Kings she says in a motherly voice, "Of course you aren't a PUTZ PORN DIRECTOR, Gregory,...... you're just a putz."
With his new found freedom, the ruling King of Putzdam leaps to his feet. "OOOH thank you Faye....I LOVE YOU!" as she giggles and thinks he has lost his mind. "Of course you do Mr. Bowman, thats why you hired me. Now lets get you out of those wet clothes Mr. President and into a change. Your dry cleaning is in the wardrobe"
And so goes another Happy King, unfettered knowing he isn't A Putz Porn Director...........Just a Putz King.
Wrong Number Gives Jack Napier His Big Break
(Wireless Flash) -- A real-life Dirk Diggler says he owes his career in porn to a producer who called the wrong number. 24-year-old Jack Napier got his start in X-rated movies when a porn producer named "Gigi" mistakenly called him offering work. Napier didn't realize the job was for adult films but was so desperate for work, he asked for an interview and bragged about his computer experience. After he figured out she wanted a different kind of "hard drive," he still wanted to audition.
Napier says he landed the job after revealing his manhood -- which he claims is "the size of a woman's forearm." He now supports himself by working only seven days a month in films like "Black Up In Her" and "There's Something About Jack."
Although Napier makes a living making love to beautiful women, he admits he's still shy when it comes to meeting girls.
Is Digital Playground Racist?
Blahh Blahh writes: I watched the Tera show last night and her guests were Kylie Ireland, Kelsey Heart, some newbie and Jack Napier "the biggest dick in porn". Jack came on last and the ladies all wanted to see his big dick so one of the chicks pulled it out and started to stroke him off. Tera was stroking Jack and even gave him a little boob action. Since it was Tera's birthday a cake was brought out at the very end. Somebody put icing on the top of Jacks dick and asked Tera to lick it off. She announced that she would and as she bent over to suck his cock the cameraman zoomed in quickly so that you couldn't see Tera with a black cock in her mouth. All you could see was the top of Tera's head. She only did if for about 2 or 3 seconds and when she finished the camera zoomed back out to normal. Now I ask you, What was that all about? Is Digital Playground racist? Do they not want their top star with black men? Tera obviously doesn't have a problem with it. Or do they have a stupid "Playboy-esqe" rule that hard-core action has no place on the Tera Show. Get to the bottom of it Luke!!!
Adella at Digital Playground writes: Thank you for sending me this Luke. Great question and kudos to blahh blahhh for writing it.
Neither Tera or Digital Playground is racist.
Tera Show is a LIVE broadcast that is available for free on http://ww.terashow.com and many of our affiliate sites. Because it is offered FREE of CHARGE there is no way to ensure that persons watching the show are over 18. For that reason we have no choice but to follow the rules set for cable. We wish it could be hard. The camera man HAS to pull away when the show takes a hard angle. The zooming in or out has nothing to do with color lines; we don't see them. To further support this, please note that Digital Playground's award winning DVD, ALL STAR features a particularly hot scene between Mr. Marcus and Rebecca Lord.
Blahh Blahh responds: Just for the record, I didn't call Tera a racist. She was the one licking icing off of Jack, That lucky bastard!!!! I wish I could have been Jack for those 2 seconds. Tera rules, I never miss her show and I would never disparage her. I just found it curious that the camera man zoomed away. Question answered, many thanks to Adella.
Porn Stars
Amber@EroticVideos.com writes: Ginger Lynn says (on her bio data sheet): As far as being a porno star, the word "star" is used cheaply in Porn Valley. A female who takes her clothes off and has sex in front of the camera a couple of dozen times, and lands on several boxcovers becomes a "star."
I couldn't agree with her more. Everyone calls themselves a "porn star" BUT I don't agree. That has always bothered me. REAL porn "stars" would be: Jenna Jameson, Devon, Chasey Lain, Ginger Lynn, Asia Carerra, Racquel Darrian, Christy Canyon ... just to name a FEW
You should have to earn the right to be a porn "STAR". Otherwise you can call yourself a "starlet". To earn that right you have to not only appear in many movies, but also have a large fan base. The more movies you do, the more fans you will likely get. HOWEVER if your movies suck, then you will probably lose some fans along the way so what that means actually is to become a porn "STAR" you have to make many (more than 20) good (or way better than average) movies and have a fan club with more than lets say 1,000 members. Getting a contract with a major company such as Wicked Pictures or Vivid Video will help but not always the case. Notice Asia Carerra is on the list, yet I don't think she's under contract with anyone at this time. :)
So everyone please stop calling every girl in an adult movie a porno star. That just soooooooo gets on my nerves. A star is someone special - someone that stands out above the crowd. Someone we can look up to and admire. Okay that may be taking it to far, but you know what I mean. :)
Mancow Muller Radio Show Boots Luke
Against my better judgement, I consented to do an interview this morning on the nationally syndicated Mancow Muller radio show Wednesday morning. I had two bad previous experiences. This one started out better than ever, but two minutes in, I said the word fisting, and Cowman said he had to hang up on me, because of the FCC.
From Time.com:
You might not think people would choose to listen to conversations in a frat house. Yet every afternoon Opie and Anthony spend four hours calling each other gay, drooling over hot moms and barraging women to "whip 'em out." It's not even a carefully constructed frat chat: an hour before airtime, six staff members, all guys, sit around watching Jackass, shooting baskets and occasionally surfing news websites. They're less like people preparing for a radio show than people waiting for a pizza.
The office even looks like a frat house. Porno tapes line the bookshelves. Opie's desk, littered with such research material as Maxim, FHM, Stuff and Seventeen, is flanked by two Britney Spears posters. Anthony's desk, littered with a Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen book, video and T shirt, sits under a poster of the twins. "Look how hot they're getting. And that's an old picture," Anthony says. On further inspection, he dismisses Mary-Kate as the priss. "Ashley is the goer."
The entire country will have a chance to hear what guys talk about when they're trying really hard to sound like guys. Infinity Broadcasting, the radio arm of Viacom, this month began syndicating The Opie & Anthony Show, based in New York City, to such cities as Chicago, Dallas and Philadelphia, and will soon have them on about 20 stations. Viacom hopes O&A can duplicate their ratings success in New York, where they are often No. 1 in their prime demographic-- men 25 to 49. Gregg (Opie) Hughes (he looks like Opie from The Andy Griffith Show), 36, and Anthony Cumia, 39, are the descendants of Howard Stern, replacing his sour trangressiveness with male realpolitik: while Stern interviews strippers, O&A just want them to take off their clothes.
But O&A are often clever, hammering at the outer band of humor that gets laughs from discomfort. Like listening to a gay man perform oral sex on a woman for 'N Sync tickets.
Luke says: I listened to Dennis Prager's nationally syndicated radio show Tuesday and he said it was as interesting to him that Time found that funny, as that they do that on radio.
DP says: It's disturbed me a long time how much junk is on TV and radio. But TV and radio frequencies are as limited as our rivers. There are a certain number of rivers in America. What if the U.S. decided to sell the rivers to companies who could do anything they wanted with those rivers. If you want to pour in toxic waste, you pour in toxic waste. But you'll say, the rivers are really there for the public to enjoy. That is what it is like in TV and radio. There are rivers of video and audio - they are TV channels and radio frequencies. They are the rivers of communication in our society.
This notion that the broadcast wavelengths are a public trust where people should cringe and shiver realizing their responsibility is dead.
Do Black Women Feel Greater Urinary Freedom?
Dennis Prager discussed a black female alderman in St. Louis who was giving a long speech to delay a vote. She needed to go to the bathroom which would've ended her filibuster. She asked for permission to go to the bathroom and then resume her filibuster but was denied. So, surrounded by her supporters, she urinated into a trash can and kept up her filibuster. This has made national news. Critics say the alderman demeaned her position by urinating in public. The woman's supporters accuse the critics of racism.
Luke says: I remember at UCLA the much greater freedom several black girls in my dorm felt with urination. I remember several of them coming into the men's room to urinate rather than bother walking down the hallway to the ladies' room. These black women may have been drinking. Anyway, by the sound of things, they released very healthy lively streams, which would make any white man suffering from prostate trouble envious.
Lynne writes: A woman who can put her personal modesty aside for some political something she finds important makes up in guts what she lacks in taste. The critics of this woman would be just as offended if she were white -- no one, male or female, pees in public when participating in political meetings. What difference does it make, anyway, where one pees? We all do it.
Women's bathrooms are notorious for having fewer stalls, and if they're full, and I have a friend with me to watch the door, I don't care what it's marked. But I have the most fun in gay men's clubs, where there are no "Ladies' Rooms" and peeing is a spectator sport. "Can she do it?" they murmur, as they gather round. And they cheer when I can!
Luke Gets Mail
Brandy Alexandre writes: Regarding this "bio" of Ginger Lynn, you have to remember that such documents and as much fiction or blowing out of proportion as any porn biography. The object is to make the subject look pathetic and miserable and thereby justify their actions. That's what criminal defense is all about--laying blame elsewhere other than where it belongs. So, they take certain incidents and elaborate, embellish, expand.
KendraJXXX: on your site can you do me a favor and invite all people in the industry to come see me perform with my band at whiskey a gogo friday night at exactly 8 pm? Tickets are 10 dollars and you can purchase them by emailing me at kendrajxxx@aol.com.
Josh Alan Friedman writes: Dear Luke, Never saw the Stud after that awkward moment at Show World. Not sure he even saw the finished piece, a few years later. When I wrote the article, I was under assignment for Playboy, where the Stud and I assumed it would appear (to his glorification). Playboy did pay my full fee and expenses. But then decided the whole matter was a bit too crude for their delicate sensibility. So they graciously let me run it in Hustler (where I changed his name).
Roy writes: Luke, Hi, my name is Roy and a friend told me to check out that story you wrote on Ruby.Well I just so happen to know Bianca I am one of her customers, you c she use to dance at the rhino down here in vegas . wow I dident know she had a baby.You know I also asked her to be my wife, hell you would 2 if you met her .I would like to meet the lucky f---er who ended up with her.As for that porn girl I dont know her.who cares.If you get to talk to Bianca please tell her that I MISS HER LOTTS ROY.Hay Luke you got a cool site dude.
Putative Marc writes: I will be co-hosting Thursday with jeff marek from 9-to-noon on AM640 http://www.mojoradio.com ... still putting the pieces together for the show. but the guest at 11 a.m. (eastern, natch) will be the fabulous EMMANUELLE RICHARD.
Anne Howe - Used & Abused On A Porn Set
Skinny porn girl Anne Howe's real name is Melissa. She also uses Mel, Ashley, and BJ Lixx.
George writes: I understand that Mary Anne Weiland, Ann Howe's mother and porn performer in the '70s, is still around. Do you have a bio and/or any pictures of her? I'm especially interested to know if she was no-tits as her daughter and whether she knows her daughter is in the business.
JG replies: Hi Luke: In response to George on Dec 27 re: Mary Anne Weiland, Ann Howe's mother. Anne Howe was one of Ed's Dirty Debutantes (forget which number) and, during the interview, mentioned that her mother was a porn star in the 70s. Anne also said she was taken by her mother on her first hard-core photoshoot!
Melissa writes about her life:
Back in the '70's (when porn was still illegal to film) my mom shot porno. When I was born, she stopped. But as I got older, I asked her questions about what she used to do before I was born. She was always very open with me, and when I was about 12 years old I told her I wanted to be a porn star. As I got older, I thought about doing porno and being a big star all the time.
When I turned 18 I wanted to persue a career in the industry, but my mom told me I didn't look like a porn star, and she thought I should get breast implants to have bigger boobs. I thought about that, and eventually I told her no, I liked my small tits and I wanted to see what I could do with my tiny breasts.
When I was 18 I started working as a lingerie model (sexy things, not little girl things) in Phoenix, AZ where I used to live. That was my first taste of the "adult sex industry" and I loved it. I liked having all that sexual attention, and I found out that I didn't need big titties to look sexy.
By the way, if you want to send me something special to wear (thank you!), these are my sizes. But it has to be something new, preferably with the tags on it (so I know you didn't buy it at a garage sale and haven't just been making it sticky for 6 months before sending it to me). Send me any of these things and I will take a picture of me wearing it and email you the photo.
Q: Are you pregnant now?
A: Not any more. The pictures you see on the Internet were taken when I was about 4-5 months along. But I miscarried and lost the baby. It was pretty sad and I liked being pregnant. But now I don't like talking about that much so let's just move along.
Melissa (formerly porn star Anne Howe) writes in March: To my horror, I was paired up with this actor, JJ. I had never worked with him before, but I had heard from other girls that he was not very much fun to work with. They had all told me that he was an asshole, and that he always acted like he was the greatest thing ever to walk the earth. He introduced himself, and I knew it was going to be a hard scene to get through. J.J. was not a very likable person.
We started filming the scene, and at first, things weren’t so bad. But when we got to the part where I pulled down his pants, I started to remember the other things I had heard from girls who had worked with J.J. before. They told me he was pretty rough, and that his dick was sort of shaped funny. It was true! His dick was angled A LOT to the side! I had never seen anything like it before. I have been with men who had some curve to their cock, but it wasn’t anything at all like J.J.’s. We started the sex part of the scene, and things were not going very well. His dick poked me in a funny way, and it didn’t feel very good! On top of that, J.J. started f---ing me really rough. I like rough sex, but he was just too rough! I asked him to calm down some, and he said he would. We started filming again, and then he started acting all crazy again!
I tried to put up with it as much as I could, but it hurt! I almost started to cry, because I wanted to finish the scene, and I knew I was going to have to do anal with J.J., too. I could only imagine what was going to happen. We started the anal part, and of course, J.J. was rude about it. He hardly used any lube, and just tried to shove it in. I was so, so embarrassed, because I knew the scene wasn’t going good. J.J. started pounding my ass, and every time he pushed into me it hurt worse and worse. At one point I screamed, but the director didn’t stop filming! He thought it was cool because it was a very real, natural reaction. I asked him to stop filming for a minute, and then he started yelling at me! The director was telling me I was a big pain in the ass (I wasn't, but I was GETTING a big pain in MY ass!), and that he was about to fire me because I had been f---ing up his set all day, and all this other crap.
No one had ever yelled at me like that before, and I tried hard not to cry. The director asked me why I needed to stop filming. I told him that my ass was hurting, and that J.J.’s cock was not good at all. I asked him if we could film the scene over, using a different male actor. I should have never asked him, because then the director started yelling again, and the producer came over and both of them told me that I should just shut up and finish the scene, because it was almost over anyway.
Luke says: Anne Howe's site has not been updated since her report on this awful experience. Who's she talking about? TT Boy? JJ Michaels?
Satyric writes: Anne Howe (aka Ashley, BJ Lixx, Lisa) has a website http://www.tinylisa.com where she is still in the hardcore biz working with Heather the amazing deepthroat babe on http://www.ideepthroat.com.
Hebe vs. Kike vs. Zhid: Pick a title
Chaim Amalek writes: This project [new magazine Heeb] sounds awful .... like something by or for Lizzie Grubeman wannabes. (And there are LOTS of Lizze Grubeman wannabes here, not all of them jewish.) And has the world forgotten Shmatta? (That's the magazine that published a fascinating interview with a jewish porn star (Nina Hartley) who admitted to being a communist red diaper baby. A communist jewish whore by any other name. A brave magazine, hip and cutting edge by its content and not merely by proclamation.)
Even the name of the magazine is wrong - had they real balls, they would have given it a name like "Kike" or "Zhid". If I ran it, I would call it "Zhid." Among the regular features would be a column in which we outed a closeted jew, or discussed how some of the gedolim hide their ethnicity through weirdly non-jewish names (e.g., Ralf Lauren, nee Lifs---s, the Sea Monkeys guy or - my favorite- Sumner Redstone). And I would have a rotating roster of non-philosemitic goyim to contribute a column in each issue so that all the self-satisfied jewish hipsters could get a clue that perhaps they are not as well thought of as they might think. Not necessarily as extreme as say, Pierce (though I would still publish his stuff, and Yggdrasil's too), more likely the middle ground of sentiment between that and what your average jewish hipster sees on television/movies.
And speaking of magazines Marc, I know almost nothing about the Rolling Stone save what I glance on the cover as I look for my copy of "Juggs Senior Citizen" at my local magazine store, but to what does one attribute their infatuation with this n synch band. Is this some sort of gay thing with Jan Wenner? Or merely an attempt by some fast aging boomers to sound hip?
Putative Marc writes: Probably a Jann Wenner chicken hawk thing--honest, there's no other rational explanation. Furthermore, I read about how wenner and his 50ish pals have decided they know what works best in their mediocre US magazine, over and above the lizzie G. wannabes who set the tone of celebrity suck-up journalism. Having attended the press conference yesterday at the injun casino featuring ringo starr and his aging cohorts, i suspect it's endgame for this rock 'n' roll business. I'd suggest the forthcoming Luke F-rd broadcasting venture (hey, we can all dream, right?) will be the antidote that america needs to be set straight that life in the second half of the 20th century was a sociological failure, no matter how you slice it.
Chaim Amalek writes: Never mind "Hebe", a venture that is doomed to fail if there ever was such a venture. How about a magazine with the working title "Celebrity Hammer", that takes a hammer to celebrities and to celebrity culture? Stern use to do this sort of thing before he became part of that culture. Now, no one does it. Think "People", but with nothing but hostile articles and dirt of all kinds about our cultural ruling class. ("Spy", in its first incarnation, came close at times.)
Putative Marc writes: maybe ms. grubman with her blood transfusions and all the rest will initiate a new era of hammerin' ... but, in general, i know whatcha mean. i think the dot-com gold rush sucked away a lot of the energy that fueled spy and heyday howard stern--both of which i was certainly an ardent fan of. again, it only points to the idea that LF *must* find himself moved up a notch or two in the food chain, don'tcha think? it's up to him to ensure LF.com is packed with interesting fodder starting on friday (when hundreds--if not thousands--of readers of the jewish journal of los angeles will log on to see what the fuss is all about ... they ain't coming back a second time if there isn't compelling content on there.)
I Want To Make Porn
Blake writes: Luke, I'm 44 years old. I have been working in the aerospace industry all my like. I am sick of my job. I hate getting up to drag my ass to work each day and perform the same meaningless tasks. So, why not get into the porn industry! Right? . I have 30K I could invest up front. I've always thought the problem with making money is with the distribution of one's product not the making of it. With money and a few strategically place ads, I'm sure it is fairly easy to get people to f--- in front of a camera. The question is "What then?' Any suggestions? Know anybody I could talk to?
Luke says: I referred Blake to MikeSouth.com who replied:
I got your email from Luke F-rd. so you want to be a porn director huh? Do you have any background in film or video production? Photography? Do you know what shutter speed is? what F-Stop is? Depth of field? Do you know what "crossing the line" is? Do you know the difference between pre and post production? Do you know what an NLE is? Do you know why 3 chips are better than 1 and what I am talking about? Do you know what color temperature is? Do you know what Title 18 section 2257 refers to? Do you know what a "Certificate of Compliance" is? Do you know the what the pros and cons of 100 speed film vs 200 speed film are? Do you know which one to shoot? Do you know what "Chrome" is? Can you meter a shot? If the light meter tells you to use F4 at 1/60th of a second, but you determine you need a greater depth of field do you know what to do to increase the depth of field? Do you know what a "hard cut" is? A POV? If you can't answer these questions do not waste your money. If you can answer these questions contact me and we will talk. Sorry if I sound harsh...just trying to keep you from making a big mistake.
Heather Lyn Does Not Speak For Me
MikeSouth.com writes: "Luke, kindly tell Heather Lyn NOT to speak for me. Everyone in this business does NOT do drugs, I don't, unless you count caffeine and an occasional cigarette (not the left handed variety). It really pisses me off when these morons get busted using drugs and attempt to explain it away by saying "hey, everyone in this biz does it." I can tell you LOTS of people in this biz who don't. If you have to be f---ed up to be in this biz you have NO business being in this biz."
Brandy Alexandre writes: "I agree with Mike South. I don't do drugs either, didn't then, don't now. She needs to keep her self-justifications in her own backyard where the correct phraseology may be everyone SHE KNOWS and hangs out with does drugs. People don't like to think they're alone in their little groupings and like to say "everybody." But like cheating on taxes, lying on resumes and keeping the extra when a cashier gives too much change, "everyone" does not do it. It's just the sorts of people you keep company with and it does not make it okay."
Tell Truth writes: HEY HEATHER just by looking at your email I can only see a mental breakdown in the works here. I may have been to your house and I may not . It doesnt really matter other than the fact that you are a cokehead and a heavy drug user. I know several people who have doen them with you alone. maybe even myself included. I am not an asshole but rather someone who isnt interested in readng about the drama that goes on between you and your man. At what point did i say I cared , only to have to read about some girl Summer and how she hid somewhere. Who gives a s---??? ANyone in the business really care about your ex friend hangin out over Alec's house. She is probably a cokehead too and that was motivation. I am not interested in your life only to point out that noone else is either. I dont care if you whacked him or didnt whack him with a pan , only that he called the cops so you must have been having a psycho episode just like now when you replied to my comments. I dont really give a s--- about your pathetic over the hill and over 30 and growing older by the minute life, only that you attempt to bore us with stories of your unnatural relationship. Nice to see you can afford a computer , maybe living with Alec still is saving you money.
As far as Kevin Korey goes, maybe when Nakita kash realizes she doesnt need you to carry her suitcase anymore you will disappear. Maybe if you dont find an investor to rip off or waste their money you can just go away. You 2 cents isnt needed, save them for your failing buisness, you wanna be loser.
Kevin Korey responds: Dearest "Tell Truth", Ouch you got me! LOL Again, you show your a hypocrite in your email......if you weren't interested in reading about Heather and Alec's life, you would simply scroll down the page and keep your mouth shut. You obviously are interested in the drama as you yourself are adding to it. I apologize that I don't have enough drama in my life to give you something of substance to grab ahold of other than the typical "suitcase pimp" stab that everyone seems to enjoy tossing around so joyously (it now appears that if your girlfriend is talent, that you are, by default, a suitcase pimp.....you need to understand what a suitcase pimp is). You aren't very close to my camp as you would know that:
1. Nakita and I are on our 5th year together WITHOUT a break-up (not
going away anytime soon)
2. I haven't been to a set with Nakita in 2 years. (which means she
carries her own suitcase and drives her own car)
3. My investor situation is near a resolution.
4. My life is none of your damn business.
5. My 2 cents WILL be added when I feel the need to speak up.
Bottom line, you are bitchin' like a little kid to the wrong person here.....if you don't like what Luke posts......bitch to Luke. I am always amazed with how brave people are when hiding behind the online mask of a screenname. As a matter of fact......do us a favor, do Tell the Truth.......who are you? Be careful, s--- splatters.
Robert Lombard of Creative Image Management and Casting writes to "TELL TRUTH". In regards to your comments regarding Kevin Korey & Nakita Kash. Well, I have had the OPPORTUNITY to cast Ms. Kash in 4 mainstream projects and on ALL sets Ms. Kash was driving her own car and carrying her own suitcases,except when a considerate Production Assistant saw her coming and went to her aid. In FACT when I first met Ms. Kash through Michael Raven. I had a lengthy phone conversation with Mr. Korey to address his concerns in regards to how some mainstream companies treat Adult Stars. That surely does not sound like what the industry calls a "suitcase pimp". Sounds more so like a concerned boyfriend to me. Don't "suitcase pimps" normally ask about money and when they can come and pick it up? Ms.Kash has always come herself to pick up her talent fees. Matter of FACT. I am currently holding yet another talent fee payment for Ms. Kash. And that is "THE TRUTH" :-]
Tell Truth responds: First off to Robert Lombard, I wish I could find one of these mainstream projects you always write about , but I havent looked in the $2.99 video bin at target recently. SO I dont knwo where you are coming from. When you can actually cast a movie people can see , then feel free to comment.
As far as Kevin Korey goes, I am very proud of the fact that you are together for 5 years and maybe now that Nakita is doing dudes , you wont be together that much longer and you can go sponge off another girl whose name you can sponge investors for. Also I agree that your investor peoblem is not of my concern, but then I hate people that suck money off of others with talentless scams and ways to live for free like you did. You should be ashamed of yourself for trying to live for free and make a living while your investor losses his ass and has to pull out
A Girls Affair
Tuesday morning I drove down the 405 freeway north, took the 118 and the 210 east, then took a lonely country road for five miles to the middle of nowhere.
Five years ago, I took a similar route to interview writer Wally Wharton, director Ron Sullivan and porn star Nikki Sinn at their homes. Then I was deeply grateful for my every connection to the porn industry. I used to email around sections of my book to porners to check my facts, which is why there are no significant factual errors in A History Of X: 100 Years Of Sex In Film.
Today I found Rob Spallone and James DiGiorgio shooting "A Girls Affair: Camp Vagina" for Fat Dog.
As I walk up, I hear Stevie yelling about getting fisted. Rob yells at her to shut up.
I wear my "I Did A Mitzvah For Israel" T-shirt that I received at the support Israel rally Sunday in Los Angeles.
Jim: "What's a mitzvah?"
Luke: "A divine commandment."
Jim: "What's that?"
Luke: "When God commands you what to do - like the Ten Commandments."
Stevie, a 30-years old former gymnast, does the splits on the grass. We're on a rolling green ranch surrounded by rocky hills.
Jim teases: "Brooke [Lane] needs cocktails. She doesn't have her Thunderbird [cheap wine]."
Brooke: "I need a shot of Crown Royal please."
Brooke and Stevie put down their golf clubs and have sex on the green.
Rob and Dynamite, the 22-year old tiny porn star, argue about what porn girls will do when they're 50 years old.
Rob: "You'll be calling me up, begging for work."
Dynamite: "I'll be sitting in a place like this, running my web site."
Rob: "There's no money in the internet business, you know that already."
Dynamite: "I've just got to find my niche."
Dynamite collects heavy metal T-shirts.
Rob: "She also collects heavy metal cum loads down her throat."
Dynamite: "That's true."
We're sitting in a place of wonderous pristine beauty but the pornographers must profane it. Rob tosses around cigarette butts as often as he does obscene one-liners.
Rob: "She just likes cock in her mouth."
Dynamite: "I'm not going to name any names, but one of the boy's brothers of the band in town this week."
Rob: "She's talking about NSync. Dynamite f---ed him."
Dynamite: "Just one of them. You've got to start somewhere."
Two famous girls expected Tuesday on Rob's set don't show up - Venus, the Penthouse Pet, and Jody Moore from Australia.
Gary says that when he rubs his wife's right elbow, it makes her excited. It's the result of hypnotism Dynamite's undergone at the hands of the Amazing Marcus in Modesto and Arrow Productions Rob Seven.
Luke: "Aren't you concerned that these hypnotists may plant things in you that you don't want?"
Dynamite: "No, because Gary is always in the room during the sessions. And any trigger words I have set, they only work with his voice."
Rob: "You wanna see how it works? Dynamite, suck my dick."
Dynamite laughs: "Not even close. But pull it out and I will."
Rob and Jim tell me that they've been told to take lower profile the next few weeks and they don't want any pictures of them posted to my web site.
Dynamite: "I'd blackmail Rob for money and fly my ass to Michigan and get my tit job and then come back out here."
Luke: "Don't get a tit job."
Rob: "You don't have to get a tit job."
Dynamite: "I don't have to but I want to, to dance."
Rob: "Fake tits are the ugliest things in the world."
Gary: "Explain that to the guy who look at her pictures and won't hire to do shows because her tits aren't big enough."
Rob: "They're full of s---. They'll come up with another excuse."
Dynamite: "I only do one [strip] gig every six months."
I hear that England's Sabrina Johnson, back in town, earned $40,000 for her gangbang 18 months ago.
Rob: "Lukey, I want to make a real movie so bad."
Luke: "Why? Do you have a particular artistic vision you want to communicate?"
Rob: "Nah. I just want to make money. I want to make my wife happy."
Luke: "Then get out of porn and get into therapy."
Photographer Bill Diehl explains his investment strategy to tiny blonde Ashley Shaye: "When the [stock] market's going crazy, you invest in the market. When Las Vegas real estate goes crazy, you invest there."
Bill's bought houses in Las Vegas.
Rob says Mike McCormick aka Quasarman was the backup to the backup of the Frankenstein character on the Universal tour.
Rob: "He was great. I went to see him twice with my kids."
Jim: "The story of this movie is that all these girls go to Camp Vagina for a little relaxation which includes lesbian sex."
There's no script, no make-up artist and no caterer.
Jim notes two missing bottles in the home owner's wine rack and he asks Brooke Lane if she's hidden the bottles in her vaginal cavity.
Stevie, who drives a sports car, describes in graphic detail her latest car accident, her fourth in her eight months in porno. At least two have been her fault.
Stevie: "I was going 70 mph on Topanga Canyon and Ventura Blvds. I was into a slide but I knew the slide felt wrong so I counter-acted and that probably saved my life. Or I would've gone head-on into a tree. I popped up onto a curb, it's amazing I didn't flip. I went back down for 200 yards, popped back onto the curb."
Luke: "Why is your friend Brooke Lane so misunderstood as an artist?"
Stevie: "I don't want to down this industry. I've danced for a long time. I never felt so close to kindergarten in my life until I entered porn."
John Bone drives up. I shake his hand.
Luke: "I haven't spoken to you in ages."
John: "That's because you're an asshole."
John says porn star Salena Del Rey stood him three times.
I meet the friendly busty brunette Angelica Sinn, a four year porn star with about 200 credits to her name. She spends much of her time stripping in clubs across North America.
As we walk down to the creek, she chatters to me about this book she's reading called "Essential Kabbalah." Kabbalah means Jewish mysticism.
She tells me about her many Jewish friends and her recent three week stay in New York.
Down at the creek, Jim says: "I'd like you two girls to look around and decide where you'd like to have sex."
Ashley Shaye and Angelica Sinn decide on a rock across the foot-deep creek.
Angelica: "I don't mind getting a little wet."
Jim: "I do."
Ashley, who speaks with a strong lisp, eases off Angelica's top.
Jim: "Come on, we want to see those puppies. Wait, they're not puppies. They're dogs. They're Saint Bernards on her chest."
Jim asks me if I think we're violating the sanctity of nature by shooting pornography in this pristine environment.
Dynamite says that the first guy who got her off, aside from her hubby Gary, was Rich Handsome, the husband of Angelica Sinn. Rich and Angelica brought Dynamite into the business at the 1999 Nightmoves Awards in Florida.
Rich has appeared in about 300 porn scenes, more than his wife.
Alana and her boyfriend Chris walk up. Chris carries her suitcase. I hustle to snap a picture.
Rob Spallone says Howard Stern was his camp counselor at Camp Wellmet in upstate New York.
Bob, the owner of the house, takes off on a loud motorbike. T.J. Hart grabs a smaller bike and follows him.
Rob: "Looks, she's like a boy. I like that. I love her. My wife wouldn't do that."
I've attended about eight of Rob and Jim's shoots over the past three months and each time I've resolved to stick it out until after rush hour traffic. But each time, around 2PM, after four hours on the set, I get antsy to beat rush hour traffic home.
Rob gets stung by a bee and can't make it to Sharon Mitchell's fundraiser at the House of Blues. Rob thanks Harry Weiss from Metro for the free tickets.
Lynne writes: When I was 19, I picked up a journal aimed at medical
professionals and social services providers on the subject of sex and
the disabled. We too often forget that sex is in the brain, not in in
the knee caps, and that paraplegics, quadraplegics and others with dysfunctional
genitals still have sexual desires. The reason the elbow was chosen
is that it doesn't often come in contact with stimulation inadvertently
like, say, the back of the hand. I thought it was a wonderful idea to
be able to instigate an orgasm by touching body parts other than genitals
and, after much non-hypnotic practice, can orgasm whenever I want, with
or without physical stimulation (as can any woman!) All it takes is
a little concentration...
Do The White Thing
Frequent l-keford.com contributor Johnny Scorpio (johnnyscorpio@hotmail.com), who used to write frequently for High Society magazine and other Crescent publications as well as other porn papers, writes in the current New York Press weekly:
I now live in Kenai, AK-"All-America City," the town's sign says. I moved here because I like being in a white environment; I like living among white people, and I like working-class white people; I think they are overall very decent people. Not that we're having cookouts together-I didn't really come here to socialize and make lots of friends. I just came here to live freely and not be bothered by crime and urban social problems.
I'm married to an Asian, but being married to an Asian woman is a typical white thing. White guys often get Asian wives-whether from being in the Navy, from overseas dating services or by going on trips to places like Bangkok and the Philippines. A lot of these girls are really charming and make great wives, and white guys know this, and take advantage of it.
My last place of residence was San Francisco; I met my wife there. We lived together there for about 10 years and then made the big move up here.
I was destitute when I first lived in San Francisco. I had to stay in homeless shelters or sleep outside. The homeless shelters, I'm sure, are better than the ones in New York. I lived in New York City for 13 years, by the way, existing on a hand-to-mouth level. I never quite had to rely on a homeless shelter. For years I worked as a street bookseller. Maybe you bought a book from me.
Anyway, the homeless shelters in San Francisco were pretty safe. There are staff and security people to help you. But the potential for danger is definitely there-especially if you're white. The shelters are full of mean black ex-cons, some white ex-cons and a sizable number of Hispanics (some ex-cons, some not). There are some blacks and whites (like me) who are not ex-cons, too, but guys without criminal records are the exception. You have to carry yourself like a man or you will get torn to shreds. Carrying yourself like a man doesn't mean acting tougher than you really are. Your phoniness would quickly be intuited and they would call your bluff. You don't act friendly toward others (except your friends), but you don't act hostile, either. You always say, "Excuse me," you don't step on someone's foot, you don't sit down in someone's chair. Any of those things can be cause for violence. You mind your own business. You don't speak unless it's necessary, unless you're talking to one of your friends.
I was able to survive the experience, get on my feet and move on to a better life. I worked as a bicycle messenger while living in a shelter. I applied for General Assistance (welfare) and got it. In San Francisco it only takes three weeks before you receive money, and right away they give you a voucher to stay in a hotel for one week.
I met my girlfriend (now wife) and moved in with her, in her studio apartment at 8th and Market Sts. I was elated to have a girlfriend and to live with her in an apartment. But we wanted to get out of San Francisco. She wanted a bigger place, maybe a place with a yard where we could have a dog. The housing in the Bay Area is unaffordable, and my girlfriend was lucky to have a good deal on her apartment (because she'd been there for six years); but downtown where we were, there are so many bums and crack addicts and drug dealers. They especially come out at night on Market St. You cannot walk there safely at night.
My girlfriend and I got attacked by a crazy black fellow (I feel justified in using the N-word here but I won't, okay?) when we were walking home with a pizza. He was standing on the sidewalk at 7th and Mission Sts. with his woman. I didn't know what hit me. It felt like a truck hit me. Because all I remember was everything went black and I was lying on the sidewalk, face down on the pizza box, and my head felt messed up. I really didn't know I had been hit by someone, or even what had happened to me. My girlfriend said, "He's the one who did it," and she pointed at a figure standing farther down the block.
Now I came to my senses and realized what had happened. He had unleashed all of his force on me, punching me in the side of the head, blindsiding me as we passed by him, walking home with our pizza. He did it out of pure malice, as far as I can tell.
The scumbag and his girl were standing down the block ahead of us, so we would have to pass by him again. My girlfriend walked toward him. "That was him?" I asked her. "He's the one who hit me?" She nodded. "Be careful, I think he's crazy," she said.
I confronted him. I said, "What was that about, guy? You hit me in the head? What did you do that for?" Then I punched him three times, boom-boom-boom, with my right fist as hard as I could in his face. He returned a punch, saying, "You wanna fight me?" Sounding surprised. I punched him again and his nose started spurting blood. He then grabbed me by my jacket collar and slammed me into a parking meter, then slammed me into the sidewalk. There were no more blows exchanged, just scuffling. My girlfriend tried to grab him and get him off of me. "Leave him alone!" she cried. He grabbed her and groped her tits and then smacked her face a few times. He took our pizza and threw it on the ground, and squashed the slices on the sidewalk. Then he stalked off with his bitch.
We called 911 from the nearest payphone. A patrol car came and I explained what happened. I could spot my attacker in the distance, lurking in the shadows of a building. I wanted to get in the police car and have the cops pick him up and arrest him. The cops didn't go for it. "Oh, he'll just run away before we get there, soon as he sees us coming," one said. Thank you, SFPD. I said, "He committed assault on me, didn't he? Is that just a misdemeanor?" They claimed it was and said the most they could do would be to write him a ticket.
"Do you know this neighborhood?" cop said. "You shouldn't be walking in it." We said, "Yeah, we've lived in the vicinity for a while and we were just getting a pizza." Cop said, "Next time get it delivered," and they cruised off in their patrol car.
It's beautiful in Kenai, AK. The housing is cheap, and work is available. We have a nice one-bedroom house, with two acres of woods around it; we have a wood-burning stove, five cats and two dogs, and a baby on the way. And being white here does not make me a target of racist violence. I've had more than my fill of big-city living, and I'm glad to get away from it all.
The Best Of Johnny Scorpio
Johnny writes Luke 8/8/00: "Here's something I'd like to see done in a porno, which I've never seen done before. Have you heard that expression, "I'd drink her bath water?" Well I'd like to see a girl in the bathtub (no soap, of course) and a guy dipping up a cup of her dirty water and drinking it down. That'd be a nice way to open a film, wouldn't it? Porn directors out there, you're welcome to use my idea."
Here are some other Johnny Scorpio emails I've received over the months we've corresponded:
Chaim [Amalek], you think you're such a "citizen of the world" because you live in New York. You ride the subway with niggers and spics--big deal!
Saw Devil in Miss Jones and Deep Throat over and over again because I slept one night in a Las Vegas dirty movie theater (age 19). In Times Square in the 70s when I was 15, I met a guy who took me to his place to show me dirty 8mm films, in case I wanted to buy any. He showed me one film in black and white (a group sex film), and one in color which was a girl masturbating with a salami and then getting f---ed by a grocery delivery boy. These were the first porn movies I'd ever seen. The guy had gay movies and wanted to show me them, and he wanted to blow me, and he also talked about kids performing in movies, but I said no to everything, except for buying the color film (five or seven dollars--I don't remember). I watched the film several times on my father's film projector, then threw it down the sewer.
Lisa, wives have to be taken care of financially? Can't it be fifty-fifty, if both partners are working? The girl is entitled to sit on her ass and watch TV, and screw the mail man while the husband slaves for her? In order for a guy to be eligible to marry someone he has to own a house? Any woman who expects all that has a very high opinion of herself? Do you think you are a goddess or something? Luke makes about 50,000 per year. That's not enough? Gosh, you are greedy.
Pat Riley is obsessed. I just skimmed his movie reviews, but he is obviously disturbingly obsessed. I guess that's a good trait for a reviewer. Pat has a day job? I was just wondering, because I know (from what I read here) that he watches an awful, awful lot of porn.
Jenna, get screwed. Big deal, you have to wait one or two days, or a week for your check. You make so much money, what difference could it possibly make? You act like you don't know where your next meal is coming from.
What about the conquistadores killing the Indians all throughout Mexico, cntrl. Amer. and S. Amer? I agree that most murderers are not regular church or synagogue goers, but I think the guy is right about catholic school students sometimes being wild. I don't know about jewish private schools, but I bet their students are pretty straight.
About what Beavis said: I think porn stars work harder than mainstream celebrity movie stars, who are so overpaid for doing almost nothing. Porn stars are at least taking their clothes off and doing nasty things for our enjoyment, so they do earn their paychecks.
Luke, thanks for posting Dr. William Pierce. Thanks for your comments that white nationalism is as valid as any other, and that if people want to live and work in a solely white environment they should not be considered "evil." Pierce is intelligent, and you will not read his comments in the censored mainstream media. Who cares if his PhD is phony?
Chaim Amalek writes Luke: Actually, my opinion of the world comes from earlier and much more varied experiences had elsewhere, about which I have never written a word to you, Luke. I readily acknowledge that my current home is in one of the most racially segregated - and SAFE -neighborhoods there is, with minimal "street level" contact between the races (not counting doormen, nannies, or servants). That's how Manhattan is these days. Very very segregated, both by race and by class. And the subways of New York are pretty safe these days, too.
2/6/01
Luke says: I was just reading the July 19, 1999 issue of Screw magazine which featured this satirical article by Johnny Scorpio about his days working at High Society magazine, owned by Carl Ruderman's Crescent. Here are some excerpts:
The vice-prez [Carmine Belluci] was a tall fellow named Guinea, and he wore a silk shirt, unbuttoned to show off a bunch of gold chains and his graying chest hair. He wore diamond pinkie rings on each pinkie and he spoke with a lisp...
When we filed out of Guinea's office, a weirdo wearing a bathrobe and pajamas almost ran me down, and didn't even say excuse me. He was unshaven and muttering to himself like a shizo; he reminded me of some nut you'd see feeding pigeons in the park. He walked into the VP's office and slammed the door.
"Who was that?" I asked Morty, our editor-in-chief [Ken Kimmel]. "Oh, that's Mr. Rutterman [Carl Ruderman]," he said. "He's the owner of the company. He's a little eccentric. He comes by every so often to see how things are going."
So now I was admitted into the inner circle of the porn magazine's hierarchy; I had gang-f---ed a chick with the vice president and the editor-in-chief. That's when I was invited to take part in a kind of Satanic virgin sacrifice hosted by the reclusive executive editor, a man with a shaved head who rarely left his office and was allegedly a High Priest in the Church of Satan (I'll call him Chuck). [It's Vivid's Bob Johnson.] It took place at Chuck's Park Avenue mansion. Chuck comes from money and just works in the porn field for kicks.
...Each guy chose a girl and proceeded to tear her clothes off, and once they were naked Chuck began uttering some cryptic incantations and dousing their bodies with goat's blood...
JohnnyScorpio@hotmail.com writes Luke: I worked for Crescent as associate editor of CHERI in '95-'96. I heard that Marc Medoff used to work there, and I know that he knows a lot about the business... He writes and takes photos for lots of men's mags, or at least he used to. (I read on your site that he has his own business now, dealing with photos and editorial material. I wasn't clear what it was. Does he supply men's magazines with material? Is he like an agent who receives photos and stories from others and he markets them?) Once I met Medoff when he was editorial director for Gallery and Fox--he interviewed me for a job but didn't hire me. I've written porn freelance for SCREW and others for about ten yrs. But I only heard gossip when I worked in the Crescent offices. I sat in meetings with Bellucci and Chew, and Ken Kimmel was my Ed-In-Chief, and Bob Johnson was Executive Editor of all the mags. I am still writing stories for Live Young Girls (a Crescent pub) but maybe that's over after this big shakeup at the company.
BTW, I met Seth Warshavksy. in Seattle when he flew me out there (from NY) to interview me for a vacancy for executive editor of Club Love (in '96). Scott Schalin (who used to be with Hustler) had the position and was leaving. Seth promised to hire me and I quit Crescent. But then he ignored my phone calls, leaving me high and dry, without a job, 'cause I quit as associate editor at CHERI. He hired someone else for executive editor.
Crescent had 200 employees when I was there, and editors there went to different mags at different companies. Rick Hall was managing editor of High Society. He went to Hustler's Leg World when they started it, and he was ed-in-chief. He's not there anymore, he left 1 or two yrs. ago. Mike McPadden worked at Crecent and he went to Genesis and was its managing editor. Then Genesis was sold to Swank about 3 or 4 yrs. ago, so everyone there lost their jobs. Originally, McPadden was an editor at Barely Legal, when that magazine was still pretty new. The art director of SCREW worked with McPadden at GENESIS, then he went back to Screw. So it's a lot of the same people working at different publications. McPadden wrote a bunch of porn scripts for Gregory Dark, too. I like the world of porn magazines, it's interseting. I currrently contribute articles and stories to a funky San Francisco sex newspaper called YANK. It' s sold in street boxes in the Bay Area for one dollar and 25 cents. Mostly it has hooker ads in it, but it also has writing in it. Does L.A. have something similar?
Four or five years ago Crescent started with the young girls mags, because they noticed that Barely Legal was selling really well. So they changed LIVE magazine to LIVE YOUNG GIRLS. Then they put out a few other young girl titles--purely 18, candy girls, finally legal. And like you said, lately I noticed that CHERI is doing hardcore and raunchy stuff, penetration and pissing. Do they sell that in Canada, I was wondering? I attributed it (the ever raunchier content) to their trying to compete with the Internet. From what you're saying, that High Society's sales figures are way down from five years ago, it sounds like this may be the last gasp of men's magazines. Do you think that they are going to die out before too long?
You're welcome for the Screw story. The sex part was just bs (mostly). The Japanese amateur girl was true, but I did not share her with the rest of the guys. Colleen I think was an ex-stripper, but she didn't give bj's to the staff. Screwin' the woman on the conference table was made up--but the ed's would get girls (potential models) to strip down in the conference room. Never heard of any actual banging on the table. A couple of parties they threw I went to were pretty good. One was a bachelor party, for the art director. Took place on a Saturday afternoon, in a rented space on East 14th Street (NYC). About a dozen porn chicks and models doin' lap dances, getting nude, doing lezzie stuff. But no out-and-out f---ing and sucking. Maybe some guys got a blow job, but I didn't. X-mas party had a girl named Bella (I think she uses the name Sasha Sweet in X-vid's) dressed as Santa claus, and I was dressed as elf. China Lee was there, and another familiar chick (can't think of ! her name). This party was in the office. The girls strip down, there's a band playing, etc.
Morty in the story is Ken Kimmel, who was ed-in-chief of CHERI for a long time. Mr. Ruderman--no, he didn't walk in with a bathrobe. He would drop in occassionally. Once I happened to ride up in the elevator with him. He seemed a little nutty. He was with this middleaged lady who is like his assistant or something. They were communicating through signals in the elevator.He was dressed all in denim garb--jacket jeans cowboy boots and hat. Maybe bolo tie too.
Guinea is Carmine Bellucci (VP--but while I was there he got his title changed to Sr. VP). David Bernstein is the guy who signs the checks (CFO).
Reclusive exec editor character is Bob Johnson. But it's not true that he came from money and was working in porn for kicks. While I worked there he lived in Staten Island. (That's one of the five boroughs of NYC, the most suburban one.) He was pretty nice to me. When I moved into a new apartment he gave me some furniture-- a nice couch, an ottoman, a lamp, etc. I went by his house on a Saturday when I moved and loaded the stuff into the moving van. He showed me around his house; his wife and daughter were out at the time. He actually wanted me to stay and hang out for awhile but I told him I should be going because I had hired a van and two movers and I was being charged by the hour. In his office at Crescent he had a framed certificate that said he was a priest in the Church of Satan. That Church of Satan thing was no big deal. He was a regular guy, it wasn't like he tried to project an evil character. He told me that Satanism is basically Social Darwinism. I read the Satanic Bible but put it down halfway through. It's a common sense kind of book, it doesn't have to do with casting spells and magic. I read Johnson's Anton LaVey article and thought it was pretty good. Johnson seemed smart about the magazine business. He was aware of the big picture I think. He was very good at coming up with catchy coverlines. He knew the finer points of punctuation--editors would ask him questions and he knew the rules. The comments he made in meetings were insightful. Originally he was editor of HAWK magazine. I think he started Hawk. I noticed one time that the H in Hawk on the cover of the mag had an eagle figure on it--the German eagle that the Nazi's used as an insignia. I pointed this out to Bob and he said, "That's scary--you're the first person who ever noticed that." I had nothing against Bob Johnson, I thught he was basically a good-natured guy. Others seemed to resent his position of authority (executive editor), and were perhaps jealous of his paycheck. When I was there he was getting $86,000. The Satanic party in the story is all made up.
The dildo sucking photo shoot in amsterdam was true--it's called the "CHERI SUCKATHON" and it was an annual feature (this was before they started showing hardcore) in which models sucked on dildos. This was Carmine Bellucci's idea. BTW, many of the photo sets come from Europe.
Luke, I got the word today that I cannot write any more freelance material for Crescent, the reason being that I wrote about them on your site. I didn't think I said anything so disparaging about them. I was also banned from writing for Crescent after that Screw Magazine article came out, but about one year later I was asked to write some stories again. If there are any porn magazine people reading this who want any stories or articles written, I can be contacted at: johnnyscorpio@hotmail.com
7/25/01: I'm doing great, Luke. Having a nice summer working in fish canneries here in Alaska. My wife and baby are fine too. I did not see NY Press article yet (the link on the web site didn't work) but I am real happy they used it. I'm thinking about writing a book about over the counter drugs (and other legal substances) you can use to get high. Been doing research on that subject since last winter.
Luke asks: I am not trying to play "gotcha" with anyone, nor am I about reporting folks to the ADL or writing letters to the editor of any publication complaining of the political views of their writers. I am just curious -does Johnny Scorpio think we jews have too much influence over Hollywood/mass-media/politics? Does he favor the racial partition of America along the lines advocated by Yggdrasil, or is he mostly interested in being left alone by the proponents of integration/multiculturalism?
Johnny replies: I'm apolitical (never vote) don't really know or care who controls Hollywood or the mass media and like being left alone to pursue my pleasure. The less bulls--- the better.
Luke Gets Mail
John Stagliano's wife Tricia Devereaux writes Luke: See, I actually thank you when you're not printing unsubstantiated rumors about me and my friends... Anyway, I was telling someone who works at my office that I was really bummed about losing my camera at Night of the Stars, and they told me that they noticed on your site that somebody posted about a camera being lost. I called Dino today (I've been out of town on business since the day he posted), and he still has my camera in good shape. I'm really happy, not as much about the camera, but because all the pictures I took of John getting his Lifetime Achievement Award were on the film still in the camera.
Rodger Jacobs writes: I certainly hope that Legs McNeil reads your site because he can learn quite a bit from the discourse that has arose as a result of his comments posted yesterday. TODAY'S LESSON FOR LEGS: THE PORN INDUSTRY WAS NOT LOOPS AND STAGS UNTIL THE RELEASE OF DEEP THROAT IN 1972. First of all, I Am Curious Yellow, released in 1969 to decent box-office was not a hardcore film. The sex in that controversial film was simulated. Most pop culture purists point to the 1970 release of the late Alex De Renzy's feature film Censorship in Denmark: A New Approach as the first film to move hardcore flicks out of the grind-house element and into theaters that catered to the general public. The 90 minute movie was produced, directed, and edited by DeRenzy and released by Sherpix. The camerawork in EastmanColor was done by Jack Kerpan, Michael Martin, and Paul Gerber. Daily Variety reviewed the movie in 1970 and called it "highly interesting". In June 1970, Vincent Canby reviewed Censorship for the New York Times and offered the following commentary:
"It may boggle the mind but only after it boggles, shakes up, and threatens a lot of other things that are a lot more difficult, and less fashionable to talk about, including the puritan conscience and our traditional taboos ... In its favor is the fact that "Censorship in Denmark" is an impolite film that makes very little pretense of being anything else."
As Lynne L-patin correctly commented, Deep Throat was a landmark film but hardly the beginning of the commercial adult film industry as we know it today. Movies like I Am Curious Yellow and Censorship in Denmark moved XXX fare into respectable theaters, hence paving the way for the phenomenal cultural and box-office success of Deep Throat.
Gregory Bowman writes: Dear Mr. Ford, I cannot believe that in this day and age, people actually think that snuff films actually exist. Gone are the days of the rich sniffing ground tobacco up their noses. That disgusting habit went out decades ago and yet your site makes the reference that people actually film others snorting such concoctions!! Balderdash! Its a lie! Society has come a long way since the days of the sneezing old pompous fat men carrying snuff boxes infringing their polluted mucous on the unsuspecting!! RUBBISH! I say, and let us all take note of Heather Lyn who is hip and with the times. as she puts it "But as far as coke heads go, if we party every once in a while, that's nobody's f--king business. Everybody in the business does it." Snort Cocaine! as she says, everyone does! Your comments? Nathans_parable@yahoo.com
Randy writes: Luke, I must confess I enjoyed reading about the saga "is Chasey Lain a crackwhore" ... but I never did discover ... is she?? I'm thinking no. In August she will be dancing at my favorite strip club here in Pittsburgh (their website is www.clube.com ). I somehow think she wouldn't be touring if she were a crackwhore. Of course maybe she is just escorting like so many other girls ... hmmm ... wonder how I could set up a date.
Chaim Amalek writes Luke: There has again been an alarming drop in the quantity of antisemitic/racist material on your web site. Have you been bought? Please, less about porn and more about Juden and Shvartzes. (Is there a term analagous to "shvartzes" for Mexicans/Puerto Ricans? If there is not, that is still more proof of the ossification of Judaism as a culture.)
XXX writes: Surely you are aware that Lizzie Grubman, while in the employ of Bowery Bar publicist Nadine [Mrs. Richard] Johnson, was instrumental in the citywide media cover-up of the hit-and-run overdose death of a 19-year-old blond in producer Darren Star's hotel room. This is the ur-story that cuts to the heart of Gotham gossipdom as it exists today. I have always wondered the degree to which Hollywood has compromised LA's police force.
Circumsized Penis Hatred On Ludlow Street
Chaim Amalek writes: Hmm.... Toys in Babeland? I know where this is - its on Rivington near Ludlow, in the old Lower East Side, not far from all the hipster hangouts. Is this woman [former Lovebytes producer Jamye Waxman] available, and would she be interested in meeting a very big jewish man who can offer her a massive quantity of kosher salami? (Katz's deli is nearby) Is she biased against dating a 450 pound man? Why? Even if he has rollover protection? If she is open minded, and we date, I promise to write up the experience - from her perspective! Luke, you could make this happen!
But wait - there's more! I have been in this store (while loitering about the Lower East Side - not as a destination, of course), and based on the stuff on the walls and their stock, here is what I can say. THIS STORE CATERS TO LESBIANS! Not just any lesbians, but manly SMBD sorts of dykes (you know - liberal democrats). This place is full of leather strap-on products, guides to lesbian carnality, and other abominations that the torah forgot to condemn (it, while quite explicit in its condemnation of homosexuality, being silent on the Sisters of Sapho). But if you want to buy a copy of "Bend Over Boyfriend" this is the place to go.
Luke, before you fix me up with this woman, please assure me that like many a jew involved in commercial sex, she is in it merely for the money, and not because she is a Daughter of Bilitis. Even the physically challenged have their standards...
Well, I had my first date with that dildo saleslady [Jamye Waxman] the other day, a low-key affair, as she did not even know that I was there dating her at the time. (But she will remember me - I barely fit into the store, and had lots of questions regarding the merchandise. She was checking AMALEK out, that's for sure.) Whilst there, I picked up a few flyers advertising some interesting events that I thought might spruce up my moribund social life. Or at least I thought they would, until I read them at home:
"XParty Goes to Hell - Woman's Social/BDSM Play Party at Hellfire. WOMEN ONLY"
"THROB - Join us as leatherwomen, SM-curious women, vanilla chicks, dirty girls, and our trans friends come together to flirt and more! Hot porno courtesy of Toys in Babeland. All women, as well as our trans friends in solidarity with the womens's community are welcome."
In other words - liberal Jew Chaim Amalek NOT WELCOME HERE.
I could go on, but you get the idea. These dykes just don't like the thought of a jewish man being near them. (Do they fear these chicks, if exposed to real kosher dicks, will do an Anne Heche on them? THEY SHOULD - no woman can remain lesbian in my presence.) If this is not antisemitism, what is, and why is this jewish (I mean, she has her own BJ page!) woman party to this hatred? Lesbianism is the genocide of the 21st century. IT MUST BE OPPOSED. Lukites of New York and vicinity - I propose we crash all of these events!
PS Just so I can close this on a positive note, I did pick up a wonderful brochure aptly entitled "Strappin' Tips - How to choose and use the right tools for the job". All about harnesses and lots more.
Mordecai Richler made them mad
By Sam Orbaum
Canada is back to bland again: Mordecai Richler is dead. The provocateur author and social critic with a bent for tweaking upturned noses, Richler, who died at age 70, always scratched at blackboards in a country dedicated to tranquil passivity.
He never shied from controversy, consistently pressing the soft underbelly button of his own people -- Canadians, Quebeckers, and especially Jews -- and others: Israel, Germany, and especially Jews.
He was both of the clan and strongly identified as such, and distanced from it, on a perch from where he could form his perspectives of it. His penchant for the Jewish antihero led many to reactively label him an anti-Jewish writer, but more accurately, he was a Jewish antiwriter.
Ironically, as a youth he was determined to become a rabbi, but rejected his talmudic studies for literature, and turned against his family's Orthodoxy, with near-vengeance.
He was consistently both criticized, and critically acclaimed -- and he was more comfortable with the former. "I'm fair game," he told this writer in a 1992 interview. "I'm criticized by the feminists, I'm criticized by the Jewish establishment, I'm criticized by Canadian nationalists. And why not? I've had my pot shots at them. I'm fair game."
When he published a book savaging his Quebecois society for latent historic anti-Semitism, and delegitimizing its separatist movement as a "bourgeois conceit," a howling storm of protest ensued, reaching all the way to the provincial parliament, where one legislator demanded his book be banned. Yet, instead of laying low, he pointedly maintained his routine, making himself available at his favorite Montreal watering holes, challenging his trust in the Quebecois' respect for civil dialogue. His faith was borne out.
On the other hand, when he was called upon to receive the kudos, the awards, the flattery of requests for interviews by high-profile media, he only reluctantly left his typewriter -- or barstool -- to accept the plaudits.
If he had sought greater recognition, he would not have remained in Canada, whose best talents usually flee for the indulgent fandom south of the border. Canadians are unsure of their champions until they're crowned elsewhere.
He did leave, still in his 20s, to forge his literary career in Paris and London. Apologetic for not struggling on the way to success -- his first attempt, The Acrobats, was published in 1954 -- he remained an expatriate for 18 years, until realizing he was a Canadian-Jewish fish out of water, and returned home for good.
Richler's subtle satire and cutting wit -- if he seemed to be flattering you, don't read to the end of the sentence -- filled 10 novels, several non-fiction books, dozens of magazine articles and newspaper columns, children's books and four major film scripts.
He is best known for The Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz, his 1959 signature novel that he adapted for Hollywood in 1974. The film, which was nominated for an Academy Award, was praised by one critic as "one of the best films [set in a Jewish milieu] ever made."
His delightfully barbed commentaries left politicians sputtering, yet in the end, it was Canada's prime minister, Jean Chretien, who delivered the most gracious tribute: "Mordecai Richler was the quintessential Canadian man of words, and his loss leaves us grasping for words that can do justice to his importance in Canada's artistic landscape," he said in a statement. "He was quite simply one of the most brilliant, original and celebrated artists in Canadian history."
WRITING THIS appreciation goes against the wishes of my aunts and uncles, who encouraged me, as a boy, to become a writer, if I desired, and "make the world forget Mordecai."
As his first cousin (once removed, and
Mordecai? Feh!
I rarely saw him, but begged to invite him to my bar mitzva. "He won't come, we're not serving liquor," my mother snapped.
We have hundreds of relatives, so Mordecai was hardly aware of me, though he did send me copies of his books. When he visited Israel in 1992, I reminded him who I was, and asked if I could interview him for the Post. He consented, but grudgingly, as if it was an unavoidable family obligation.
He was notorious as a difficult interviewee, grunting pat answers to usually formulaic questions. Ah, but I had something planned for him.
After a few predictable questions, I provoked him into an angry debate. He scoffed at Quebec separatism, yet supported Palestinian statehood; how, I challenged him, can you propose a one-state solution there and a two-state solution here? Don't the Quebecois have the same rights and aspirations as the Palestinians?
We argued vociferously back and forth, and most unsettled by my treacherous gumption, he snapped out of interview mode and provided wonderful material for a kinetic magazine piece, "Make 'em mad, Mordecai Richler!"
Perhaps after he finished stewing, he realized that I had Richlered him, and forgave me, because when he decided to write a book about Israel, he enlisted my help.
In his numerous faxes during those months, he addressed me as "Reb Shmarya," my Hebrew name, after my great-grandfather and his grandfather. Davka! I liked him for that.
His life ebbing from his futile battle with kidney cancer, a few weeks before he died, he ventured toward reconcilement by attending the shiva for my grandmother, his most vituperative antagonist.
There, a small circle closed, at least for me. My mother gave him a gift: my book.