I just finished shooting what should be a fun educational video for the new glove harness, La Palma, from SpareParts HardWear. It’s a cool project, one I don’t think I can disclose anything about until the video is done, but the fact that a sex toy company is dealing with one of my biggest pet peeves, which is lack of instructional materials when it comes to what comes with sex toys, this makes me super happy. However, the production itself was a little stressful. For starters, I was afraid I’d have a lot to memorize, but that fear was eradicated with the help of my new favorite website, cueprompter.
However, once we got on set, the makeup artist, who is also about to become a porn star (ya gotta love LA) made my eyes so black that I looked like I had just lost a fight after 36 hours without sleep. When I asked her to remove the excess darkness, or what I am now referring to the ring-o-not-so-rosy-around-the-eyes, she did so by placing lotion on a Q-tip and then proceeded to put that in my eyes! IN MY EYES! Like seriously, the lotion touched the actual whites of my eyes. I was so afraid of the redness that would ensue, afraid that I wouldn’t be able to keep my contacts in, and I had no glasses with me. My eyes hurt all day. They were tired. Slightly blurry and heavy. The girl was nice, but really, who puts scented lotion in someone’s eyes?! It took me a moment to realize what was happening, I was so shocked that I didn’t do anything at first. And finally I said something fairly obvious. I asked “did you just put lotion in my eyes?” When she said yes, I told her I don’t think you should do that. I mean, I thought that was common sense, but maybe I’m just picky. I don’t think I’ll be letting her near my eyes again. Ever.
It was late and I was way tired, but before I wiped off my makeup and undid my hair from the day’s SpareParts HardWear shoot, I decided to make this short video. I mean I sort of looked like one of the toys on my desk (a toy that’s not a sex toy and that doesn’t vibrate) which inspired me to show you some of the other toys in my office. The kind of sex toys that look like penguins, people and famous kitty’s - only they vibrate and can be used for other, more pleasurable adventures than just playing with dolls.
Jamie Gillis, a legend in the world of adult entertainment, died on Friday, February 19th at the age of 66 from an internal melanoma. Professionally I loved Jamie most as Dr. Seymour Love, a sexologist in the film The Opening of Misty Beethoven. The performance, based on the play Pygmalion, showcased Gillis in his prime. He was a total heartthrob. He could sing, crack a joke and that smile, that Jamie Gillis smile, it spoke volumes without having to say anything at all.
Years later, way after Misty Beethoven had closed her legs, I got to know Jamie in New York. He became part of my “adult” family, the one that consists of wonderful friends like Candida Royalle, Veronica Vera, Michele Capozzi, Alexandra SilkandLuc Wylder (read Luc’s eulogy too). I was super nervous the first time I met Jamie. He was still as good looking as he was in those Misty days, but he had this tranquility and this gentle kindness now surrounding him. His laugh was soft but genuine and he told great stories, I mean the man had years of stories to tell. And truth be told, I loved his curly hair.
We were the two Jamie’s, one with a y, one with an i, and each time we ate together, sometimes at his partner Zarela‘s restaurant, I enjoyed the few minutes we’d spend catching up. He didn’t let anyone know he was sick, so the shock of his death felt much greater to those who got to relish in his presence. And while the world lost a man and possibly a myth, I felt like I lost something else too. I lost the excitement I’d felt in knowing that Jamie Gillis would be joining us for dinner whenever we all got together in NY. He was definitely a man I liked having around.
Jamie Gillis, you will be missed. Rest in peace forevermore
John Mayer, porn director? Tiger Woods, professional golfer? Canadian men enjoy bacon over sex, while British women are getting wilder in bed. It all happened so last week.
Another recent survey by the British based Netmums says that 76 per cent of women use porn, french maids are big in bed and women may be having less sex than last year, but when they do it, they’re wilder in bed. (TheSun)
While British women are getting wilder, 43% of Canadian men would choose bacon over sex (HuffingtonPost)
Tiger Woods went public with his apology today, saying he felt entitled at the time that he was doing what he was doing, but that he will prove to Elin, his wife, over time and through actions, not words, how truly sorry he is. While we all sit around and marvel at the man who could have been king, at least of the golf course, I get the feeling that porn star Joclyn James isn’t happy. At least not according to a story on Xbiz. Jocyln James, aka, Veronica Siwik-Daniels, is a mistress on a mission. And the porn starlet wanted a public apology from Tiger Woods, admitting that he promised her, over the course of their three year relationship, that their “relationship would last a lifetime.”
Please. Spare me the tears.
For me the question remains, what if Jocyln James could understand that her relationship with Tiger Woods will last a lifetime? He’s not going to forget her, nor will she him, and while the press and public may forgive and forget over time (hey, that’s what we do), what if she just accepts that the relationship has changed from a romantic one, to a telepathic one? - since there’s no way Elin’s going to let them just be friends
I’m a huge advocate of meeting people anyway that works, but I’m beginning to think online dating isn’t working for me. I can’t say I’ve been around the world wide web when it comes the dating scene, I refuse to pay to meet people right now - both because I haven’t been living in Los Angeles long enough to have met people without paying, and because I’m trying to save my money for other fun activities that I can do with people I already know I like.
I’ve only gone out on one date thanks to the interweb, not because I haven’t been asked out on others, but because I haven’t cared to follow up after my standard reply of “I’m busy until next week, can we meet up then?” Most of the men I meet online are witty in their descriptions and at least alright in the looks department, but after the last five years of dating men I enjoyed immensely, if the physical attraction doesn’t feel there in even one of the pictures, I fear it won’t be there in person. I know that sounds wrong now that I wrote it. Whatever. Maybe it means I’m not ready. Especially when there are the guys who email you multiple times after you respond to one email. That, to me, signifies a bit of desperation, or perhaps sheer overexcitment, but regardless, I’m not ready to commit to those overzealous types.
Even though we’ve come way farther than we did back in the day when Abraham Lincoln was alive, and he may have been gay too by the way, reading thisNew Yorker article about the gospel singer Tonex reminds me (once again) that we’ve got a loooooong way to go. The low down is that in September of 2009 the gospel singer Tonex came out of the closet, after dogging years of rumors and ending a four year marriage. And now he’s struggling to find his way, but not his ego, because his Church is not a-okay with him being gay.
It makes me sick. Thankfully though, I know of one church where it’s okay to be gay. And if I were in NYC tomorrow, I’d be attending Rev. Billy‘s mass ritual UnMarriage Until Gay Marriage - even though I’m not married and I’m not sure I’d get married until everyone can get married. Well, unless my partner had amazing health insurance and unless we saved loads in taxes, I mean I should be honest here.
Since I can’t be at Bethesda Fountain in Central Park at 1PM this Valentine’s Day, can you (and you’re sweetie) go for me?
If you need some divine inspiration, watch video of Reverend Billy and the Church of Life After Shopping Gospel Choir, singing their unmarriage-until-gay marriage song “I Do! I Do!“
According to the Chinese calendar, it’s time again for the Year of the Tiger (which happens to be the same animal as the year I was born). I thought I’d ring in the new year with a variety of visual images of tigers and sex(y).
The kind of kiss that is explained in 175 pages, in the book The Art of Kissing by William Cane. Back in the day - when I was a TV producer for a show called Naked New York on Metro TV - we interviewed Mr. Cane, a shy sort of fella who had a really passion for kissing (duh!). At that point in my life, I thought everyone loved to kiss.
Sadly, I now know that’s not true. And even some people who do like to kiss, don’t like to kiss for the hours, heck days, that I could go on kissing. My first kisses were some of the best, longest, most intense kisses I’ve ever known. That’s why I think I still love kissing sooooo much.
Since then, I’ve had my share of good kissers and “other” kissers. I choose not to use the words bad kissers, because while they weren’t good for me, they may have been great for someone else. And I used to think you could train anyone to kiss, and maybe you can, but I don’t have the patience to try. I believe that by a certain age we like to kiss the way we like to kiss, and if that initial base of kissability isn’t there, then you might as well kiss it all goodbye.