Section: Lip SerVICES

I’m guessing I’m not the only one absolutely leaping out of my skin with yummy, sexy joy to have True Blood owning my Sunday nights once more. How can you NOT love a show that, in the very first episode back, thanks you for your patience and continued loyalty by giving you a deliciously naked, slice of sex pie like Alexander Skarsgaard (as Eric Northman)! Awww, thanks True Blood!

As you may have already noticed, vampires are not the only sexy to be ogled on True Blood. We can also do a fine bit of Lippy-spotting, since the woman who handles all the wardrobe, Audrey Fisher, has brought our favorite sexy gear to Fangtasia and other True Blood hot spots. Here are a couple of captures by Lippy Addict, Nathy (Thanks!!), prompted by the keen eye of one of our favorite Lippy Addicts, DevoidaTaste (thanks, too, Mary!).
In this scene, Sookie Stackhouse (Anna Paquin) goes to Fangtasia looking for Eric Northman (Alexander Skarsgaard) to discuss the Operation Werewolf brand she’s discovered in her search for her beau, Bill Compton (Steven Moyer). And, my, what’s that? A Lip Service Faded Suspect long moto jacket (want one? just go here in our Sales section!) on a girl hanging outside.

In the very same scene, one of the sexy Fangtasia barmaids rocks a Patent Vinyl & Vegi Leather Classics Buckle Strap Mini Dress (which, by the way, is on sale, too! WOOT!) As the season rolls on, I’m sure we’ll get to see more sexy Lippy on those sexy Fangtasia vamps! Keep an eye peeled and, if you get some still captures, give us a shout and we’ll give you a shout out here in the ‘zine.

All this cross-over sexiness got me to thinking about vampires and what we find so irresistable about them. Let’s start with True Blood’s awe-inspiring cast of sexy blood-suckers, since Alan Ball and crew have really gone out of their way to give us a varied and interesting lot of vamps!

First (always first *siiiigh* *pant* *drool*) is:

Eric Northman (Alexander Skarsgaard)

With the story expanding to include Eric Northman’s adorable maker, Godric, we’ve been able to see the soft underbelly of the big, sexy, wicked Sheriff. He’s a badass, absolutely, but the writers are slowly but surely showing more and more of the emotions he’s kept down all these centuries. It can only make him more interesting and, I must say, Eric is already quite an interesting cat. And, also must say, when he says something deliciously droll (even calling Arlene’s kids “Teacup humans”) or wickedly naughty in that low purring voice of his, it just drives this vamp fan insane!

Pam (Kristin Bauer)

Speaking of droll, there is no better foil for the consistently droll Eric than the epitome of droll deliciousness wrapped in a witheringly vicious package, Pam. Whether Pam is picking bits of vampire off Sookie Stackhouse, bitching to Eric about her ruined shoes, or dispensing advice to baby vamp, Jessica Hamby, she is utterly the peak of awesome. I’m so glad her role has been expanded in this season, because the show shines even more with her wit. I don’t know about you, but when she was rudely interrupted in mid-cunnilingus by Jessica’s call and proceeded to ask, in her best impatient purr about whether she’d gone to the hypothetical store for the theoretical chainsaw, I was in stiches. Besides, who else could utter the words, “I am not a hooker. That was a long, long time ago.” and make it a seething statement of empowerment.

Bill Compton

Sorry Team Bill, though I’ve listed ol’ Bill Compton here third, he’s pretty far down on my list … usually. But, after last week’s *ahem” “twist” (hee hee), his character is at least getting more interesting to follow around. Gone is the moonie-faced mopey Bill, always trying to keep “Suuuckeeeeeh” from getting herself in trouble. Funny part is, with the recent developments (can we say, sneaky stalker file?), Bill Compton – the good boy – is getting a reveal of his dark side while Eric Northman (just can’t seem to keep that one out of my mind *sigh*) – the bad boy – is showing his emotional and more vulnerable, caring side. Will this bit of coming to equillibrium make Bill stay a bit more interesting? It’s tough to say, but I kind of hope it does.

I’d take a bit more time to go into how awesome and awesomely awkward and sexy baby vamp Jessica Hamby (Deborah Ann Woll) is and how tiresome I find Queen Sophie Anne (Evan Rachel Wood), as well as how much fun I’m finding the marital interplay between King Russell Edgington (Dennis O’Hare – who is always superb) and his partner Talbot (Theo Alexander) and how wonderfully intriguing the dark, spy Franklin Mott (James Frain). But, we have so many more vampires to drool at *ahem* discuss.

Before moving on, here’s a nifty little collection of True Blood sexy … thanks inter-nets!

Dracula (as played by Frank Langella)

Oh my! Is there anything more lusciously sexy than Frank Langella coming in through that window, chest exposed by his sexy, loose shirt? I think not! Based on the erotically-charged stage play, the movie version heats it up like no vampire story before or since. And the original play’s star, Frank Langella, is a revelation of sauve sensuality. We don’t get the old, creepy, smelly Drac in this film, just the smooth-as-fuck sex machine with soulful eyes, one hell of a bedside manner, and ripe, full lips that can wrap around my jugular anytime! There’s an underlying tone of release in this story, with Dracula representing freedom from stifling Victorian morality and lack of self-determination for women. He is everything the not-quite-content-to-be-locked-down-with-boring-ass-Harker Lucy secretly desires. And we desire Dracula for many of the same reasons. Frank Langella was my introduction to the concept of vampires oozing sexy and, boy, I still thank him and his phenominal lips for that!

Miriam and John Blaylock – The Hunger

So, how does one top the Frank Langella sexy Drac? How about double-your-sexy? The Hunger gives us not just David Bowie as urbane, mannered vampire, John Blaylock, but also the superbly sexy Catherine Deneuve as his wife, Miriam. The filmmakers also give us lots of eye candy and ear candy, with gorgeous vistas of New York and a soundtrack that sidles between goth classics and classical pieces. The vampires are beautiful, classy, intelligent as hell, and they typify everything we’d love to be as urban vamps. And, just when you think that’s the end of the sexy, they bring in Susan Sarrandon, who spends an awful lot of time in a white t-shirt with no bra, which is much too yummy. We also get some delicious girl-girl sensuality between Sarrandon and Deneuve. This seriously raised the bar for vampire sexy, as well as beautiful and intense film portrayals of vampires feeling love, passion, mourning, and the sting of eternity when it can’t be shared equally.

Interview with the Vampire – Armand (Antonio Banderas) + Honorable Mention for Louis (Brad Pitt)

Anybody disappointed that the casting for Interview with the Vampire, at least in the case of Armand, did not follow the description set forth by Anne Rice in the obscenely popular novel? Show of hands? *crickets* Yeah, me neither. Sure, Armand was supposed to be a lovely boy with a Botticelli face and sweet curls, but who can begrudge another opportunity to watch Antonio Banderas smolder up the screen with his über-sexy self? He imbued Armand with a deeper, darker menace and a man’s sensuality. Win and win and big fucking win in my book. Yeah, I’ll admit, menace is a bit creeper coming from a boy with the countenance of an angel, but I’ll take brooding, simmering, sexy menace instead any frick’n day of the week. Banderas’ Armand represented a guilty conscious turned outward with unfiltered zeal. He was a very good boy turned very, very bad and we loved every second he was on screen.

Louis, on the other hand, was the epitome of guilty conscience. I include him mainly because I would probably hear it from too many friends if I didn’t. Pitt, I will admit, is a very pretty young man at this stage. He had a lovely sensual mouth. I get the appeal, really, just don’t share it. I think there was a great appeal in his sad boy character, a soulfulness and delicacy which was rather attractive to many a sweet young thing. I’ll give him his due. Cruise’s Lestat, on the other hand? I can say only *feh*. Take a look a few vamps down to Kiefer Sutherland for the wolf-like venal character the much bally-hooed vampire should have had. And that’s all I have to say about that. *pthft*

Santanico Pandemonium (Salma Hayek) – From Dusk to Dawn

What’s not to love here? Salma Hayek as a super-hot stripper vampire … WIN! Playing with a snake and pouring drinks off her feet for (obvious foot fetishist) Quentin Tarantino’s Richie to drink … EPIC FUCKING WIN! From Dusk to Dawn uses the locked-in claustrophobic scenario usually restricted to zombie/monster flicks and converts it to vampires with panache. It is an ass-kicking movie, with George Clooney as the badass sexy hero and Harvey Keitel as his partner savior. It’s a fucking bloodbath yet still manages to get its sexy licks in with Salma Hayek’s mesmerizingly hot dance number. You love Santanico, you worship her, that is until the doors lock and she tears your fucking throat out. She’s one vicious piece of work and, I’m certain, gave a lot of dancers a lot of joy as she tore up the gropey patrons of the fabulously seedy Titty-Twister.

David (Kiefer Sutherland) + his boys – Lost Boys

In the spirit of full disclosure, I have had a “thing” for Donald Sutherland since I was a wee little girl. So, when I discovered he had an actor son who was ridiculously hot, my little libido went into hyer-drive. When said super-hot Sutherland, Kiefer of course, was cast as the viciously wolflike vampire David in The Lost Boys, I was already turned on before ever seeing the movie. David, as played by Kiefer, is everything you imagine in a young vampire. He’s charming as hell when he wants to be, deadly as hell, and outside any controls polite society usually places on young men. He and his crew are party animals, getting wild before tearing the crap out of those gathered to party, screaming around town on hot bikes, causing all sorts of trouble. How could we not want to live vicariously just a bit through the sexy brood of Lost Boys? How could we not want to throw ourselves at sexy piece of business, David, in hopes he’d take us along for the wiild ride. They never get old, they neevr have to grow up … it’s like Peter Pan on violent rage amped up with a blast of potent sexual charge. NomNomNom!

Dracula (Gary Oldman)

Yes, I’ll say it. The movie sucked so hard, it could indeed take the chrome off a trailer hitch. It was a frightenly bad movie. But … and this is a huge but … Gary Oldman was fucking genius as Dracula. From the creepy-ass twitchy, funky old Drac with the danish-like ‘do to the flashback warrior king Drac, to the soulful gothy Victorian Drac, he nailed it. This is not a surprise. Though Gary Oldman has chewed his share of scenery in some mediocre to awful movies, he is a superb actor with a great skill for playing nuance and heartbreaking melancholy beneath the surface. So, if you haven’t seen this film (and I couldn’t blame you if you hadn’t), do check it out. Brave Keanu’s attrocious accent and worse acting, Winona’s strange meandering presence, and all the other glaring flaws in this incredibly flawed movie. It’s worth every painful moment for the opportunity to watch Gary Oldman’s portrayal of the most storied of vampires. This is a Dracula truer to the original source material. Dracula is melancholy, he’s vicious, he’s gentle with his love and brutal with all others, he’s clever as fuck, and he’s layered with nuances one would expect to find in one with such a tragic personal history and life after … a life which will go on forever without his lost love. There is a lost, melancholy to this Dracula, a sadness which defies normal mortal depths through sheer time increasing its impact. Depite Winona’s heinous attempt at acting, don’t be surprised to find yourself sniffling away a few tears at the end. This Dracula deserves them.

Here are a few pieces of sexy vampire eye-candy!

Well, hope you enjoyed checking out my favorite vamps. Next month, we’ll have some vamps of a completely different sort, when I explore the Exxxotica Expo and find some willing victims (and vamps) for our fledgling vamp site, Vampyrotic!

So you want to be in alt/fetish smut or good old fashioned porn? You’ve seen sexy photos or video and think, “I can do that!” Maybe you can and maybe you can’t … in the end, the judgement that counts is not yours but in the hands of someone like me, somebody who shoots photo or video as a job, not a hobby. More importantly, for you at least, the judgement will be made by someone like me who will decide to work with you or not.

We’ve talked about the “interesting” habits of shooters to help you figure out who is or is not “That Guy”. Unfortunately for we shooters, all of you people on the other side of the camera are not exactly wall-to-wall sunshine and perfection in your habits either. So, in the sense of fairness you fucking love about me (you know you do), let’s talk about how to not be “That Girl” (and I’m not talking about 70s Marlo Thomas sit-coms here). And, in that same sense of fairness and realism, we’re pretty much talking about the womenfolk here. That’s who most of us shoot, so turnabout is fair play.

Like shooters, you pretty much can’t turn a lens in any relatively urban setting without some aspiring model/performer being captured in it. Adult content, whether naughty or flat-out dirty, is getting more and more play on the internet and even showing up a bit here and there in mainstream media (I’m looking at you Jenna, Sasha, Katie, and Dita) and many of you out there want to grab onto your 15 minutes. Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you? Modeling and performing may be work, but it’s not exactly slinging cocktails or data entry or any variety of crap jobs that pay crappier and … here’s the important thing … don’t involve being adored and flattered and gushed over.

And that’s not even taking into account the possibility of making serious money, transitioning to even better paying gigs in more mainstream outlets, having your own website generating income from your photos and videos, much less the Big Kahuna … maybe getting discovered FOR REAL. Yep, even the most remote possibility of fame is a huge light attracting lots and lots of hopefuls to the fetish and porn ranks.

So … here’s the big SO … do you have what it takes to be asked for time and again? Or, perhaps, are you doomed to linger at the outskirts of the pack, wondering why you don’t get repeat calls? Maybe this simple guide can help.

It is a basic fact of life, no matter what your field, you are not THAT unique. No one is irreplaceable. That’s just reality. Those of us who work with models and performers will never, and I mean NEVER, work with someone a second time if they are difficult. We have a job to do, one which really only begins for us after the shoot is over. We also have expenses, which often include paying rental for a location, keeping makeup artists and/or stylists on hand, other performers, etc. So, it stands to reason, we have a low sense of humor about anything that puts our shoot into extra time.

When push comes to shove, we have shit to do and don’t take kindly to wrenches thrown in our works.

So, how can you avoid this fate? Check out these Not-So-Desirable types and see if it sounds a bit too familiar. If so, you may be “That Girl”.

Ms. Personal Hygiene

I don’t want to get too graphic here, but there is an undeniable reality about shooting adult content. Close contact happens. If you’re doing a girl/girl or boy/girl scene, your scene partner will most likely (even in a soft-core shoot) be near pits and naughty bits. We’re showing titillation and sexy situations so, even if you’re not going all the way downtown, you’re still in the neighborhood. So, it’s just a matter of consideration to make sure everything is fairly fresh in the smell department, especially down there in vag-land.

Even if it’s a solo shoot, this doesn’t lessen the need for being fresh. Trust me when I say … if you’ve not been taking care of your hygiene, I’ll know it. There are lots of arms-up poses, not to mention that, when you’re nude, there is no barrier between the air I’m breathing and whatever you might have going on in your nether regions. I’m not right up in there but, believe me, a few feet away is plenty close enough. I had a model over to my studio once that, I shit you not, I could smell from across the room. It was a bad shoot to have to endure … really bad … and, needless to say, I would never shoot that model again for any pile of cash thrown my way. There are twenty other models I could call for her specific type who won’t assault my senses, so they’ll get the call instead.

Ms. Straight-Jacket

Let’s face it, some of us out here in the world are not right in the head. Some of us have some major issues to sort out before we should be allowed at the grown-ups’ table. Unfortunately, some of these interesting specimens find their way into the adult industry, in some cases in a bizarre bid to replace the counseling they desperately need with acting out. Needless to say, this does not make for the pleasant and productive environment one wants on a set. Crazy begets crazy and turns a perfectly good scene into a fucking whirlwind trip down the ragged road to Crazytown. Other performers get uncomfortable, things go wrong, and we wind up with content with little to no value outside a clinical study. Some men seem to think crazy chicks are hot and, honestly, they can keep them. I’ll stick to nice, sane women, thanks, and keep my shoots from turning into the heart of fucking darkness or some homage to Plath.

Ms. High-Maintenance

Oh, I could do a whole blog about just one multi-day experience we had with models who should have their photos next to the phrase “high-maintenance” in the dictionary. These girls (and I call them “girls” because they most assuredly were NOT grown-ups) turned a weekend event from a fun break in our routine to a living hell with their endless demands, irrational behavior, and whining. Imagine, if you will, going out of town and trying to pull off coordinating a naughty runway show from square one … for that evening. Then imagine the so-called professionals you paid money to bring to the event putting your show in danger of not coming off. They make you late by not being awake or packed, then spend an hour each to get their shit together. They make you later by demanding stops virtually every 20-30 minutes, then more stops for what they didn’t get or do at the last stop. They make you go on a wild goose chase through a strange city for shit they should’ve brought in the first place, or at least could’ve gotten at any one of the several extra stops on the road. Once you arrive, they don’t want to wear the outfits as styled … kinda important in a fashion show, yeah? Pile on top a mound of complaints and whining, plus … I shit you not … trying to take the hotel’s pillows because, “We do it all the time.” And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. All the while, they actually believed they were entitled to behave that way, once or twice even saying it out loud. Why did we tolerate it? We were over a barrel, in a sense, powerless to risk our event over our rightful indignation. We needed them, which is a situation I’d prefer to not have to face again.

Am I surprised to not see these models getting lots of work and being seen throughout the alt and fetish world? Nope. Because, to be fabulously blunt, I would never EVER deign to work with these impossible girls ever again. In fact, I would turn down a project flat if either of them were even remotely involved. I would imagine that, if the behavior I got the business end of is indicative of their norm, other professionals feel the same way.

Ms. Attitude

Okay, certain super-models who shall not be named can get away with their more-fabulous-than-thou attitudes for a time. They are famous and have developed a visual brand that other brands want to add shine to their own. You, however, are not a super-model. You are most likely a green unknown with a slim portfolio and no name or face recognition to counteract the reasons you give me to not hire you. So, how is it that some of you (and you know who you are) saunter onto the site with an attitude that would choke a fucking horse? While I understand you may think you’re as hot as any super-models, the reality is you will never get beyond seasoned amateur status if the people who select models don’t want to put up with your shit.

Sure, there are a few exceptions who may be able to sneak through and get a few more gigs, despite a crappy attitude. One model I recall from a couple of years back was a holy terror through the entirety of her shoot. She raged about the styling, the clothes, the shoes, the hair, the pace, pretty much everything involved, enough so that we started wondering, “If she hates all this so fucking much, why did she even bother to submit her portfolio for the job?” While this was going on, she bragged about all the shoots she’d been kicked off. If there were a possibility of replacing her, rest assured, she’d have been kicked off that set, too. Someone would have to be a serious masochist and care very little for their other models or performers to endure that level of bullshit. If you’re ever tempted to believe yourself so grand you can behave like a bitch on set, take a look in the mirror. If you aren’t seeing that face all over the place, in photos, covers, film, DVD boxes, magazine spreads, you may want to reign back before you see to it that you never will.

Ms. Wood

While it should be said that the person in charge of the shoot should know what they want from the models and performers, it is the minimum responsibility of those in front of the camera to make it look good. It goes almost without saying, someone being presented in a sensual or sexual context should be able to pose and move well. They should be able to present sexy in a physical context, emoting with not only their face but with their body as well. An arched back, lithe legs and arms, a graceful extended neck are critical to the appeal of the visuals. Obviously, stiff limbs and tensed muscles do not exactly present a sexy picture. They make the viewer feel their discomfort … not quite what’s going to inspire me to want another go-round with that model or performer at the risk of more useless content. We get paid for sexy. Anything else is money out the window … and your name off the go-to list.

Now, I don’t know about you but, when I’m doing my professional thing, I’m not exactly thrilled with getting the bare minimum. Some flexibility is more mental and creative than physical. I like to work with models and performers who bring something more to the table than just a baby-step above showing up. I look for and bring back the ones who realize this is a creative industry and bring their ideas on set, too. Mind you, there are shooters and producers who don’t want your input but those exceptions to the rule are just that … and not too common. For my money, and it often is (my money at stake), a performer or model who comes in excited about a concept enough to have put thought into how they can make it better is golden. She’s going to be a go-to in my book and, I dare say, quite a few others. The converse, a model without ideas or input? She doesn’t excite me and, again I dare say, probably won’t excite my target audience either. Boredom or lack of investment in the shoot shows. And the flat, lifeless result is not going to get your phone ringing with calls for more uninspired zombie routine.

Ms. Excitement

There is such a thing as too much. And there is definitely a point of much too much. Yeah, I know I just said that being disengaged and not emoting was a bad thing. But, guess what? So is its evil fraternal twin, over-emoting. Nobody needs more of the ubiquitous belly-clutching, doubled-over, face contortions of Ms. Über-alt. And we certainly don’t need any more adult performers frantically clutching their own hair at the sides of their head with an expression that, instead of looking like ecstasy, brings to mind padded rooms and straight-jackets. It just ain’t sexy, ladies. And … once again … we get paid for sexy.

Can I ask that we place a moratorium on a few tired-ass unsexy clichés of over-emotage? Please, for fuck’s sake, no more bugged-open eyeballs with big-O mouths … please! Unless you are a kewpie doll or a certified adorable Japanese schoolgirl in Lolita drag, it’s just done … to fucking death. On the more smutty side, can we skip the sucking air through gritted teeth thing? You all know what I’m talking about. And, while we’re at it, can the ever-present nasal whine of “yeeeah, yeeeee-ah” go to the undignified death it deserves? You’re not fooling anyone … really, you’re not. Considering every other woman in porn has been doing that exact intonation for decades? Not sexy. And a few over-the-top poses we can do without … the afore-mentioned belly-clutching, of course. The opposite of sexy … off-putting, really. Let’s also can the bent over and do-me face looking back next to the thigh; I know it’s a standard, that’s why it needs to fucking go already. And last, but not least, if you are not capable of discerning your come-hither look from slack-jawed, your innocent gaze from dazed and confused, your smoldering from painful constipation, and your “O” face from raw terror, please do us all a favor. Try those expressions out in front of a mirror, then maybe for some friends who will be honest with you, and … here’s a novel concept … in front of somebody else’s camera (that doesn’t have a job to do) before you bring that bad drama school crap to my shoot. A good expressive face is sexy, but what kinda qualifies as making faces? Not sexy … just … NO.

Ms. Delicate Flower

I appreciate that some of you are new to this whole naughty, sexy world. You’re prone to have a nerve or two coming into doing a shoot. That’s understandable and we all empathize. We’ve all been novices once ourselves and had to get over that hump, often with the calming influence of veterans who empathized with us. But, like all things, there is a limit. A good gauge is how much of my time you’re taking up trying to be ready to do the job you were hired to do. I’m a patient person, really, I am. But, at the end of the day, I have a location I’m probably paying for, other performers or crew who have come (sometimes from pretty good distances) ready to work, a fucking life to lead and a job to get done. Jitters are fine, but nobody wants to have to hold anybody’s hand or feel like they’re dragging you and your inhibitions along for the shoot.

I recently worked with some first-timers who had never been before the camera. Certainly, they were nervous at first. We all felt for them and took a few extra minutes to help them feel comfortable. We took the time to go through the full vignette so, once we got to each scene, there would be no surprises. But, the moral of the story (in this decadent tale) is this: They pulled through like seasoned veterans and, if you were to watch the videos or check out the photos, would never guess they were new to it all. The bottom line is, you’re either ready to go or you’re not. You should know this before you’ve put other people’s time and investment at risk. Anything else makes you “That Girl”, the one we don’t want back.

So there it is. You want to not be “That Girl”? Stick to avoiding these pitfalls and others like them and you’ll safely stay in the graces of those who rely on your skill and professionalism to make their projects go smoothly and make everyone money.

Trust me, those of us behind the camera may be a taxing lot at times. But we appreciate you when you make our jobs easier and our sets a fun place to be, we really do. We’ll keep calling you back and recommending you, building your portfolio, resume, and reputation which could lead to even better projects and paychecks, not to mention the adoration.

Sounds much better than sitting home, waiting for the jobs that aren’t coming, doesn’t it?

Spicing up Cinco de Mayo with Sin

First, let it be said for the record that, according to many reliable info sources, Cinco de Mayo is not actually celebrated throughout Mexico (it’s more a Puebla thing) … that, in all honesty, is a holiday on par with St. Patrick’s Day, an excuse to chow down on particular grub and do lots of drinking, no matter what your personal heritage. Of course, this is not a criticism by your friendly neighborhood lover of vice and degeneracy. Any excuse to let down the hair and get down is all good with me.

So, why not blow out the stops on this sucker, right?

Oh sure, you can spend your Cinco de Mayo going out for a few tacos and repairing to some gabacho sports bar for Coronas, maybe a shot or two of hallucinogen … *erm* I mean, tequila. So long as we’re going to have an “excuse to party” holiday, let’s fucking party, kids! Are you with me? Thought you would …

Since “Fifth of May” falls on a rather inconvenient Wednesday, I will begin by recommending celebrating the spirit of Cinco over the safer-to-blow-it-out weekend nights. No sense having to survive two long work days after howling at the moon when one can schedule the fun when it’s less-taxing to possibly have fun (or worse)- a hangover.

Oh, that’s not “traditional”? Well, since most of us are not Mexican and precious few are actually from Puebla, I think we can handle it, right?

Let’s start the night with a little social/inhibition lubricator … sponsored by the Deadly Sin of Anger!

Raging Vodka

Start with some vodka (I recommend some yummy potato vodka, but any sort will do) and a couple Jalapeño peppers. Clean the peppers well, split them up the middle and place them in a clean glass jar or bottle. If you have some cheesecloth or a sachet bag, use that to contain the peppers to make the final step MUCH easier. Let the infusion hang out for at least a day or two in the fridge (no more than 5-7 days), giving it a shake now and again. Once it’s at the intensity you desire, either pop out your pepper bundle or strain the mixture through cheesecloth into a fresh bottle. Keeps indefinitely (in the freezer is a very good place, especially if you like to drink it straight-up).

Don’t like your vodka neat? Why not make some ass-kicking cocktails with it?

Bloody Mary gets Hot! - Get thee some tomato juice (clamato, if you want to be more traditional), worcestershire, fresh ground pepper, a pinch of salt, and a nice stalk of celery and do some spicy mixology to your heart’s content.

Try mixing with some lime juice and club soda, too, for a fresher, zingy flavor that keeps your infused booze at center stage on your palate.

Or, you can go with a more traditional Vodka Martini, with a kick!

Don’t throw out those vodka-infused jalapeños, either. They’ll be fucking awesome in the recipes below!

After your pre-hedonism cocktail(s), how about some sinful eats, brought to you by one of my favorites of the 7 Deadlies, Gluttony! And, in case you didn’t know it, spicy foods have long been considered members of the aphrodisiac arsenal, along with shellfish such as shrimp, sexy ripe avocados, and *duh* chocolate. So, enjoy your food hedonism now and get a leg up on your urge to work it off later. That’s a win-win in my book!

Drunken Salsa

1 vodka-infused jalapeño – finely minced
1 cucumber – peeled, seeded and finely chopped
1 red onion – finely chopped
1 red pepper – fire-roasted, seeded, and finely chopped
10 Roma tomatoes – roasted (400 degree oven – 40 minutes), peeled, seeded and finely chopped
1 poblano (or mild) pepper – fire-roasted, seeded, and finely chopped
1 bunch cilantro – leaves only, finely chopped
6-8 scallions – finely chopped
1 avocado – finely chopped
1 dried pepper – hot or mild, your choice – finely ground
lime juice – at least 1/2 lime, then add to desired level of acidity
kosher or sea salt – to taste

Mix it all up in a nice, big bowl and chill for at least 1-2 hours to let the flavors come together before serving

Hot Drunken Shrimp Tacos

2 TBSP olive oil
1/2 vodka-infused jalapeño – finely minced
1 bunch cilantro – leaves only – finely chopped (split into two portions for cooking + topping)
6-8 scallions – finely chopped (split into two portions for cooking + topping)
1 lb. shrimp – peeled, cleaned, tails removed, and lightly butterflied (a nice slit about 1/2 through will help to cook quickly and evenly without over-cooking and let the flavors really get in there, too.)
pinch of saffron
juice of 1/2 lime (or more if you like a more citrusy taste)
corn tortillas – lightly heated in a dry frying pan or in a tortilla steamer (White corn is great for this if you can get it)
red onion – finely chopped for topping

other possible toppings:
sour cream or thick yogurt
shredded cabbage
radish
shredded cotija cheese
black olives
avocado or guacamole (super-easy guac recipe below)
an extra sqeeze of lemon or lime
whatever other treats your naughty heart desires

Heat a pan to MED-HI and add the oil. Once it glistens, add the jalapaño and one of the portions of scallions and stir for a moment to get the flavors into the oil. The, add the shrimp, cilantro, and saffron, stirring constantly until the shrimp are done. You will know they are done when the butterfly cuts swell up and split the shrimp and the color of the shrimp turns opaque (not clear). Take them off the heat and out of the pan immediately, since they will continue to cook until perfectly done from residual heat on the plate. Then assemble your tacos and enjoy!

Super-easy guacamole

2-3 avocado – cut into chunks (+ optional avocado – diced small)
juice of 1/2 lemon
2 TBSP sour cream or thick yogurt
1/2 vodka-infused jalapaño – finely minced
1/4 – 1/2 cup cliantro – leaves only, loosely chopped
1/2 red onion – finely chopped
sea or kosher salt – to taste

optional: chili powder

Put the avocado in your food processor and pulse until it’s getting creamy. Then add the lemon and sour cream and process until smooth. Add the jalapeño, cilantro, onion, and salt (and chili powder) and pulse until well-blended … not too much or you’ll make them mush. (**a note about chili powder: some chili powders contain large amounts of salt so, if you’re using it, check the ingredients before adding salt.**) If you want to be all fancy and have an extra layer of texture, add in an extra avocado which is diced up in smallbits after processing. It’ll put in just a little more sexy, smooth bite.

For decadent dessert, how about a spicy, sexy quadruple-aphrodisiac? Thought you might like that …

Spicy Sexy Coffee

Make espresso ground in your coffee maker, using 2 filters for a more robust blend. In your coffee mug, measure in 1-2 TBSP of good cocoa powder, a sprinkle of hot chili (like cayenne), and cinnamon along with sugar if you want a sweeter flavor. Pour in the hot coffee and add half and half.

Now, on to the best and spiciest sin of them all … LUST!

Start out your seduction with something super-sexy … some hot Latin dancing! There is little that gets you in the mood for some passionate “afterwards” like some hip-swaying, hot dancing to smokin’ hot latin music. If you want to up the ante even more, skip the traditionalism and go with some modern ass-shaking tunes by some ass-kicking Latinos like Los Lobos or Los Fabulous Cadillacs. Work up a sweat and get those pheromones pumping to get ready for the finale!

Are you good and spiced up? Good! Now it’s time to really crank of the heat by slowing it down some. “WTF!” you might be saying, “But I’m raring to go!” And that’s exactly why a bit of slinky, slow seductive will be that much more hot. Let the drive just rev up while you have some more fun … trust me, it’ll just keep getting hotter.

Maybe you’d like to pull on some of your military Lippy fetish gear and do a bit of martial role-play in honor of the famous battle … questioning your prisoner can be lots and lots of fun.

Maybe a bit more tasty treats are more your bag? Have you ever heard the thing about cinnamon Red Hot candies and *hee hee* certain parts of the anatomy? Mmmm Hmmm … yes, I have. Just sayin’ … you can do what you like with this little piece of info.

Well, I’m pretty sure you can take it from here … you naughty, spicy creatures. Enjoy yourself a Sexy, Sinful Cinco and we’ll see you next month with more delicious VICES.

My name is Mich and I’m a shooter. I do a bit of fashion, a touch of live band stuff, but mainly I shoot smut. I’ve worked with some notable porn talent and fetish models and have more on the schedule into the summer. I’ve been and am rather fortunate. But, of course, I am not “that guy”.

Who is “That guy”, you ask? Let me briefly explain …

Lately, you can barely swing a riding crop without hitting somebody who calls themselves a photographer. Sure, they might have a camera, maybe even a pretty good one. But, let’s face facts here, owning a camera makes them a photographer no more than my owning a set of handcuffs makes me a cop. Models I’ve worked with have regaled me with stories of such “professionals” and their (not so) amusing antics … and, kids, I’ve gotta tell you, it’s not pretty.

Girls talk and, within the rarified borders of smut-land, there is a grapevine like you would not believe. At some point or another, many girls do scenes together and … you guessed it … chat about all sorts of stuff, including lots of industry talk. They compare notes and tell their horror stories, too. They make sure that everyone they know knows not to work with ________, that guy who _______. Soon enough, that guy will never be able to get a decent calibre model/performer again. Trust me, you don’t want to be “That guy”. It’s a kiss of death and all his own fault.

*Oh, and by the way, you might be tempted to cry sexism because I have made my “fictional” unprofessional male. This is neither sexism nor an accident. I have never, ever heard one horror story of any note about a woman. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure they’re out there somewhere, but … let’s be real … it’s kinda like comparing the prevalence of unicorns with cockroaches.*

So you think you wanna be a shooter but don’t want to go that road? You actually want models to want to work with you again and not tell all their friends and fellow hot models what a douchenozzle you are? Here’s a handy-dandy guide to start you off on your way to being the favorite of all the models you encounter by not being “That guy”.

… You’re welcome.

DON’T BE…

Mr. Vants to Be Aloooone:

There are actually asshats, and a surprisingly large number of them, who have decided it’s a great policy to demand that models come to their “studio” (which, by the way, often just happens to be their apartment/house/whatever) alone. This might not seem weird at first blush, but think on this … Some guy you don’t know is going to take pictures of you naked, perhaps bound and/or in other helpless positions. You’d be okay with just hopping on over all by your lonesome? If so, you’re just as fucking stupid as the models who go along with this bullshit. There’s a reason escorts are a pretty standard thing … most models care about their safety and don’t want to trade the risk of hooking up to shoot with Ted Bundy for the chance of a few good photos.

Mr. Show Me Yer Tits:

I’ve seen this guy in action, when I went with a model I work with as her escort on another shoot. (By the way, the first sign this guy was probably “That guy” was that he only deigned to allow me along because the model told him I was her make-up artist.) She is a notable name, respected in another field, one which would not react well to naughty pics. I’ve shot her and know going in that nipples, bare booty, and (certainly) the lady bits are straight out … and so did this asshat. Yet that didn’t stop him from trying everything to get her to drop her kit; from cajoling to guilting and all the way to the photo/model version of “all the cool kids are doing it”, it got kinda embarrassing. Seriously, if you just want to see naughty bits, go to a fucking titty bar. If you want word to travel that you’re a dickhead and for even the models who merrily get naked at the drop of a hat to run the other direction of your douchebaggery, try to get a peek the hard way like “That guy”.

Mr. Big Shot

Oh, this guy is one of my favorites. He’s all full of stories and name-drops of all manner of fabulous and fabulously paying gigs. Yet, when asked, he is never quite able to produce a single thing he’s supposed to have worked on. In one case, this guy … I shit you not … emailed the tiniest and worst example of horrible photoshopped fake to the model … and that’s not even the worst thing! Next, he showed up for a “test shoot” without his fucking camera. Seriously. Yep, that’s the sign of a true professional … he doesn’t even need a camera to shoot pictures! *bwahh hahh haaaah* Yeah, you definitely don’t wanna be that guy.

Mr. Nice Try, Fucker

I imagine that it gets lonely there in the studio sometimes. Having a partner, I guess I’m saved the desperate need for human contact this guy suffers. It is, apparently, so profound that he can only abate it through having models come and suck his cock while he shoots it. Of course, he’ll tell you it’s just about the art and he’s a madcap creator or whatever other bullshit. But really, he’s just a sad, pathetic excuse for a human, much less a photographer. And he gets bonus points for most often working the “cool kids are doing it” and “you’ll never work in this town” two-fer gambit. Impressive in its fucked-up-ness, but you still do not want to be this guy … after all, it’s not like he actually GETS the blowjobs.

Mr. Oh … Did You Want the Pictures?

I have heard more tales than I’d prefer to recall about the guy who takes scads and scads of photos, sometimes even showing them to the model in the screen during the shoot, only to not send them. Maye he’ll send them in 6 months, 8 months, whenever the planets align, the moon is in 7th house, whateverthefuck. I know people get busy … hell, I get plenty busy, too. But I also understand that, for models, photographs are their stock and trade. Especially fetish models and adult performers with their own pay sites … photos are money and fresh photo sets are a do or die thing. Whether it’s because he’s busy or (as I oft-times suspect) the photos actually turned out to be crap once they could be seen larger, that guy is never getting another chance to fuck that model or any of her friends out of her photos (her currency).

Mr. Creativity (or not)

There is nothing a model LOVES more than coming to a shoot, only to find the “artist” has no idea what the fuck he wants her to do. Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with just having a girl stand there, bored to tears, while you click away like there’s something interesting going on … Wait a moment! Yes there frick’n is. If there’s even a chance of being that guy? Seriously … stick to buildings and trees and crap until you’re ready to play in the bigs. It’s much less embarrassing for everyone.

Mr. (Too) Friendly

It should be fucking obvious that models are not coming to your studio because they want to be groped and leered at and generally made to feel violated. Again, it should be obvious (at least to anyone over the emotional development level of 11 or so) that, just because a woman lets people see her naked and does naughty things on film, doesn’t mean she’s down to do those sorts of things for anyone/to anyone./etc. It is not her job to be manhandled. Seriously, if you are that desperate to touch a woman, perhaps you should take a little trip to a certain ranch in the Nevada desert where that sort of thing IS their job.

Mr. Ugly-is-Beautiful (or just more ugly)

Yes, there are a few photographers who have made quite a reputation for stripping away the artifice of models’ images. They shoot from strange angles, sometimes not the most flattering ones and can work for a mussed, dark, or even haggard appearance. But the difference between them and this guy is simple … they know what the fuck they’re doing. There is a method to their seeming madness, a delicate beauty in the harshness. Without that, it’s really just a thinly veiled dislike of models and seeming need to make them look bad. Who wants to look like a roughed up pumpkinhead? Nobody, that’s who. No model will ever want another shoot with that guy. Ever.

Well, I hope this peek into smut photography and what not to do has been enlightening. I’ll be sharing some of my adventures among the beautiful and beautifully naughty in the next Vice when we explore the Secret Lives of Porn Stars.

Until then …

Got to say, we here at Lip SerVICES love us some St. Patrick’s Day! What other holiday gives one the principal tradition of open, public drunken debauchery? … Well, except Cinco de Mayo (oh, yeah, there’s tacos and beating the crap out of piñatas, too. … Hmmm … beating the shit out of leprechauns …) … oh,  4th of July (but then we blow up shit, too. Hmm, exploding leprechauns? maybe…) … and Memorial Day (but then we barbeque, too. … Nope, not going there!). Oh hell, YES there are quite a few holidays that we’ve kind of made about getting ripped, but St. Pat’s is the king, the Mack Daddy of them all.

Sure, St. Patrick’s Day is about some other stuff … being Irish (or somthing like that …), silly green hats, wearing of green in general, the song Danny Boy … stuff like that. You know, here’s someone better equipped to tell you about the non-drunk part … Take it away, Coco!

Granted, we’re here to talk about drunk. Not just a little tipsy, not wasted, even. I’m talking about some liver-blasting, mind melting supersonic drunk! Well, kinda like this guy. Seriously, how champion degeneate is going for MORE beer when you’re that fucked up. And, awesome add, somebody’s given the video the epic score it richly deserves. Enjoy Drunk Guy!

Haven’t had enough of stumbling, embarassing public drunkenness yet? Okay, here’s a little more before we move on …

How does one achieve the good, olympic drunk? Unless you really like bloat and trips to the head a LOT, I’d avoid the beer unless you’re going Guiness (with some whiskey, perhaps).

Poteen:

The old school Irish used to head for a bit of the poteen (or poitíne). Think of it as Irish moonshine, with more kick than Sister Mary Francis on a bad day. It’s been said that poteen could cause blindness and even sometimes kill people who end up suffering from alcohol poisoning. It is, I shit you not,  also common from elder people to rub poteen on their skin to help with arthritis … well, at least that’s the excuse Gram used to use.

Not feeling quite so hard-core? Okay, ya wee lassie … here’s something a bit more dainty for your delicate constitution …

Whiskey!

First distilled by monks about a thousand years ago, whiskey is a definite go-to! Whether neat or on ice (whiskey buffs recommend just a wee splash of water, by the way), you can’t go wrong with the classics … Old Bushmills, Tullamore Dew, Power’s, Paddy’s and Jameson’s. Granted, the export varieties could never hold a candle to the real Irish stuff. But, let’s remember, since we’re only PRETENDING to be Irish, we can pretend we have the good stuff, too … Right? And … if you can get a leprechaun to pour it down your throat? Irish WIN!

Still too aggro for your poor little tummy?

Okay. Here are a few girlie drinks for you to enjoy …

Irish Kilt

2 oz. Irish Whisky
1 oz. Scotch
1 oz. Lemon juice
1 oz. Sugar water
3 dashes of Orange bitters

Combine all the ingredients in a shaker filled with ice, shake well and strain into a martini glass.

Leprechaun 





2 oz. Irish whisky
Cold Tonic water

Lemon Twist 



Pour whisky into a Collins glass filled with ice, fill with tonic water, stir gently and drop in the lemon twist.
top

And, if you’ve had a few too many of these …

Morning (after) with Leprechauns 



1 1/2 oz. Bailey’s Irish Crème 

1 oz. Irish Whisky 

1/4 oz. Cherry brandy 

3 oz. Cold black coffee (strength to your likeness) 



Combine all the ingredients into a highball glass filled almost to the top with crush ice and stir well.

One last thing before you go … just a little drunk, Irish humor …

An Irish priest is driving down to New York and gets stopped for speeding in Connecticut.

The state trooper smells alcohol on the priest’s breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the car. He says, “Sir, have you been drinking?”

“Just water,” says the priest.

The trooper says, “Then why do I smell wine?”

The priest looks at the bottle and says,
“Good Lord! He’s done it again!”

Oh, and, by the way … the priest didn’t get away with any and NEITHER WILL YOU! It may sound all not-so-degenerate of me, but … seriously … don’t drive if you’ll be drinking enough to be seeing leprechauns. You’d probably like to live to debauch another holiday.

Until the next time … keep it sinful!

April Flores and Kelly Shibari - see full size in gallery below

Let me tell you a little LA Story …

Once upon a naughty time, a few adult performers stopped by a little, local hole-in-the-wall joint to unwind after work. It happened to be karaoke night, and they had a great time singing and cutting loose. They had so much fun, they came back the next week with a few more friends … and the next week … and the next … Word began to spread and, before you could say , “Reverse Cowgirl”, the place was jam-packed with sexy porn luminaries and the folks who love them.

That’s right, boys and girls, the place was Sardo’s and that unexpected and entertaining stop turned into the aproximately 7 year institution known as Porn Star Karaoke. Still going strong, it is a place and time where adult performers can chill out, let their hair down, and maybe even take a stab at their favorite tunes while industry folks and fans alike can spend a little quality time with their favorite stars without the convention-type crush and crowds. That’s not to say there aren’t crowds at Sardo’s on Tuesday nights … because, oh yes, there is a capacity crowd. If you are not fortunate enough to have an invite from someone in the industry, you may want to plan on coming early to get some of the limited seats or wearing some cozy shoes because the place gets to standing-room-only quite fast once the festivities begin.

Nicki Hunter serenades Carlos Batts and April Flores - full size in gallery below

The Webmaster and I, fortunately, were invited by über-sexy porn star and social media genius, Kelly Shibari (of PaddedKink.com), so had some of the best seats in the house. (Yeah, feel free to take a moment out to envy us … it’s okay … I’ll wait.) Rounding out our table were the lusciously adorable April Flores and artist/filmmaker Carlos Batts, as well as another raucous friend, Philly Nick. At the mic, as our hot Emcee/Hostess, was Nicki Hunter, who never let the energy plateau all night. There was an ever-increasing fever pitch and a whole lot of sex in the air, with Nicki as our naughty ringmistress taking time out here and there to have maximum dirty fun giving out the official swag of PSK … what else? XXX DVDs, each given a lascivious sum up with awesome bravado.

** A little side-note, speaking of films: Carlos’ new film, “Sugar Sisters” an NC-17 cult film along the lines of Faster Pussycat: Kill, Kill, KIll! and the fab exploitation of the 70s, counts Kelly Shibari, April Flores, and Nicki Hunter among its awesome cast. Keep an eye open for it … it looks like one hell of a badass movie! **

He's a Nasty ... Girl? - full size in gallery below

Nicki started off the evening with a song and, let me tell you, this chick has one hell of a set of pipes! She belted out with a gorgeous, strong voice while putting on a sexy performance, hopping in Carlos’ lap and (sadly missed by my camera) gave voluptuous April a spirited motorboat. From there, it didn’t get any less full of silly frolic and absolute lack of inhibition. There is, it seems, something quite freeing about Porn Star Karaoke. We enjoyed a nice, young man giving us some heartfelt Bowie, dancing with a maniacal glee that one can only describe as what Mick Jagger might look like if he tried to do his signature moves with David-Byrne-esque (“same as it ever was …”) twitchiness. Then another guy came up, looking relatively unassuming, to favor us with … I shit you not … “Nasty Girl” by Vanity 6. Later in the evening @pornstarkaraoke herself, Constance Le graced the room with a sultry song, too.

April Flores treats the crowd with a song - full size in gallery below

Of our table, April did a beautiful rendition of Depeche Mode’s “It’s No Good”, dancing, spinning, and giving the audience to the side of the stage area a treat by singing to them. Then the Webmaster rocked crooner classic “Mack the Knife” (and gave me the usual lovey palpitations *sigh*). Did I sing? Well, yes, you could probably call it that … with a slightly shouty turn at the mic. But isn’t that what karaoke is all about, rocking a tune whether you have the voice for it or not? Well, I certainly met that bar, anyway … *heh*.

There were some other notable porn folk in the crowd, so we got to observe them “in the wild” outside their usual habitat. Nicki was most excited to see Sea J Raw come in, and the crowd was treated to random flashes of nipple from her, as well as Nicki planting a few lusty kisses. But, I think I can safely say, the star-spotting of the night that made the Webmaster and I smile the widest was the heralded entrance of The Godfather himself … Yes, Ron fucking Jeremy was in the house! Epic win.

Godfather of Porn, Ron Jeremy! - full size in gallery below

So, for a veteran of decades of karaoke, was Porn Star Karaoke REALLY that different from the norm? Worth the crowds, the drive to Burbank, and whatever other obstacles might present themselves? Oh, FUCK YEAH! If you’re near LA, especially if you’re a fan of old-school ballsy sing-your-guts-out karaoke or enjoy your entertainment of the 18+ variety, you really owe it to yourself to check it out. If you’re coming to LA, you might want to keep Tuesday night free and make your way to an otherwise unassuming strip mall in Burbank for the stories you’ll drink free on for the rest of the year. Hell, you might even get a little up-close-and-personal time with your favorite porn star. On this night, Nicki Hunter was giving body shots … just sayin’ … do you want to miss that? I don’t think so.

Thanks to Sardo’s for keeping this fantastically naughty night going. Thanks to Nicki Hunter for being the best karaoke hostess, EVER. Thanks to Kelly, April, Carlos, and Nick for a sensational time. Special, extra, gropey-gropey thanks to Kelly for inviting us to the best karaoke night we’ve ever had!

And, I would be remiss if I didn’t say, “Thanks Ron Jeremy, just for being Ron Jeremy.”

Here are a few shots we snapped during the night. I will apologize in advance for the grainy, funky look of them. While Sardo’s is a hell of fun place, it must be said that it’s lit like a fucking crypt and pointing a flash at unsuspecting people is just downright rude. They are a mountain of delicious fun none the less!

Until next time, when the Webmaster and I prepare to talk VICES with the godesses of kink at the Fetish X Convention in Vegas …

Ahhhh, can you just feel the flop-sweat stench of forced romance in the air? Almost hear the anticipation of millions of cash registers? That can mean but one thing … the whole frick’n world is about to get VD yet again this year.

Oh fucking joy!

Don’t get me wrong, the seedlings of the holiday started out with some fabulously dirty, dirty roots. How can one not get a little, back of the throat naughty chuckle out of Lupercalia … check this out … a festival beginning with eligible young Roman men running about wildly, flogging thrilled (soon-to-be-fertile) women and maidens alike with straps of goat hide dripping with blood? I mean, DAMN, those Romans could really throw themselves a proper holiday!

And we’re not done yet!

The young men would then, in the awesome pagan version of a 70’s swingers’ key party, pull girls’ names out of an urn. They would then couple up for the remainder of the festival … in some historical reports, the whole year. Those fuckers had some GAME!

So, I ask you, how the hell did this kick-ass hedonism-and-fertility-fest turn into a mealy-mouthed, guilt/obligation-gifting, bullshit red letter day? Once again, please don’t get me wrong. <sarcasm> I abso-fucking-lutely adore a day when my beloved is led on a Bataan Death March/Trail of Tears of “romance” by Hallmark, Teleflora, and whoever makes those ghastly heart-boxes of ass-chocolate you see in every place with a cash register. </sarcasm> We can blame the old Roman Catholic Church, with their zeal to wipe out all fun in the ancient world, for the first strike. But, like many of the post-Roman “cleanings up” of that time, everyone sort of dropped the holiday after a while … and can you blame them? Let’s see … whippings and fertility and pagan key parties or emulating the saint you pull from the urn … or just letting it quietly die the death the crap new holiday deserved? Not a tough call, eh?

But, like many once-fun pagan celebrations, a goodly time later the commerce and consumption juggernaut picked up the torch.

Now it’s a frenzy of buy me this and if you loved me, you would get me … overpriced and overcrowded … fear and secret loathing. As a true romantic, in the most perverted sense of course, I am bound each year to find a better way.

And this year, I choose to share my bounty with you all, in hopes that you will rediscover the true quirky vice behind the travesty lovely Lupercalia has become.

First, I was doing a bit of scoping around and found an interesting coincidence …
Did you know that Spay Day is the last Tuesday of February? Does anyone else find it interesting that BOTH holidays centering on emasculation fall so close in calendar proximity? … Just saying …

Maybe there is a more romantic holiday, right in the same month, we could rally around instead?

Let’s see … there’s Working Naked Day on Feb. 1 … sounds VERY promising! Unfortunately, it’s not quite as juicily sexy and vice-laden as it sounds; it’s about working independently outside the corporate structure. While I must say that not having a corporate overlord is sexy in it’s own subtle way, not quite what we were looking for. Though, maybe we could … let’s keep getting naked in the cubicle on the table for next year … if Lupercalia can get nabbed, maybe we can take this one back instead!

Hmmm … Liberace Day on the 4th? Maybe a bit too quirky. Perhaps, let’s put this on the back burner and see how we might save the day we’ve got.

Or, at least, have a really good laugh at its expense. Here are a few samples of the hilarious collection to be found in Cap’n Wacky’s Gallery of Unfortunate Valentine’s Cards. (By the way, he’s got a whole range of such galleries which are just as much snarky fun. I tip my hat to the Cap’n wicked sense of humor and persistence in the collection of the disturbingly funny.)

Well, even if we can’t do away with VD altogether (and who doesn’t want that?), we can at least bring back some of the quirky, sexy, and (let’s face it) some of the downright silliness of the original!

In the dirty, dirty, pervy camp (MY PEOPLE!), we have a lovely gifting suggestion from our once-kinda-clean friends at low-brow malls everywhere, Spencer’s (Remember them, oh dear readers of a certain age, where we teens of the Reagan years used to sneak over to check out the silly booby bachelor party gag gifts?). According to their site, “The 7 Pc Restraint Kit comes with everything you’ll need to playfully restrain or submit to your lover. It comes with wrist tethers, a detachable leash and blindfold. Perfect for a little kinky fun!” Well, it’s not quite a whipping with bloody goat hide thongs, but it is naughty fun from a vanilla source … always good for a laugh before you pull out the REAL toys, anyway.

Maybe your sweetheart goes more for … well … the “hearts” vs “flowers” approach? How about a Plush Beating Heart by Think Geek for the weird girl who has everything? Yeah, I now, even the girl in their own promo pictures doesn’t seem to be anything less than sporting a look that says, “Either he’s a serial killer or he’s way too much of a dork for me. Either way, I’ve got a seriously uncomfortable situation on my hands here. … Wonder if I can make it through the dinner date we’ve planned? Even a weirdo is better than sitting at home watching Thelma and Louise yet another time while the rest of the planet is coupled up in something other than a suicide pact. … Then again, what does this frick’n loony have in mind with a psychotic Valentine’s Day present like this … ”

Yeah … got to admit, it’s a bit (no, a LOT) weird in a strange and über-dysfunctional Disney Rom-Com meets Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer kinda way …

Here’s something more in line with the traditions of Lupercalia, a Blood Bath Shower Curtain + Bath Mat from Perpetual Kid! Whee! You can always do the whipping right there in the bathroom and spray them with more blood … who’d notice the difference? Or, if you’re really feeling sassy … and you’re even funkier than those old Romans, you can always re-enact the Psycho shower scene or something equally romantic.

Not quite your scene? Want a little something a bit more about the coupling aspect of Lupercalia?

Perhaps Hand Huggers – The Fleece Glove for Two by Smitten Mittens is right for you? Hey … wait a second here … Actually, the supremely emphatic pair-bond statement of, “We’re so attached to each other, we can’t even bear to have separate mittens!” is a bit too VD for my taste. Hell, the site photos alone made me want to go punch cupid in his porky, little face, so I’m pretty sure those are out.

Ahhh! Here’s something a bit more weird … yet … sexy? … *scratching my head on this one* … Fundies – Underwear for Two! No … no … sorry … just not seeing it. Seems a bit “interesting” in a weird game-of-undie-Twister sort of way … if you’re into that. And there’s nothing wrong with that, really. Is there?

Oh, yes! I believe I’ve found it! The intersection between sex and weirdness! The Sculpa Sutra! I’ve got to say, I cannot stop staring at this in wide-eyed disbelief of just how strangely, disturbingly weird this is, yet I’m compelled to try to figure out what may be it’s appeal to those who have championed its cause. Well, it is about sex. And it is weird, even though in a claymation-models-fucking sort of way, which I just can’t wrap my brain around. I guess some people might be able to stop laughing at their bug-eyed mini claymation doppelgangers long enough to try a naughty position or two …

Well, no matter how you celebrate your Lupercalia, just try to steer clear of the VD. Your VICES deserve better than that sad excuse of a crap holiday.

see full size in gallery below

You’ve done the living room parties, you’ve trolled the same-ol’ same-ol’ club scene, and you crave something different, something funkaliciously new to ring in the new year. Can’t blame you. There’s nothing more suck than starting a fresh, new year with a snooze-fest.

Well, I’m here to help you find the freaky New Year’s Eve of your fevered fantasies!

Let’s start with LUSTFUL fun, since … well … that’s my favorite kind of kicks.

London, UK
Toture Garden New Years Eve Ball
How does a kinky fetish party with stage performances, naughty installations complete with cages and pole dancing podium, and what the organizers refer to as the Budoir Dungeon sound? Pretty yummy, eh?

Los Angeles
The Black & White Masquerade Ball
Our friends at Bar Sinister never fail to come up with a fab night of dark debauchery. This one has goth charm, alongside fetish fun, with play stations to start the year with a bang (or at least a nice crack or slap).

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Miss Kitty’s 2010 New Year’s Eve: A Space Sex Odyssey
Oh, fuck yes! Want to party like Barbarella on a dirty bender? Well, this is just the place for it. Miss Kitty’s has set up a futuristic disco brothel, complete with live erotic interplanetary shows, interactive pleasure stimulation areas, and … HOT DAMN! … male and female sex-bots!

Toronto, CA
SubSpace
Sure, every place has its own fetish New Year’s bash. But SubSpace has a pretty yummy one with a killer rep. Want tp get your freak on in the Toronto area? This is probably the most sexy place to do it.

Miami
Vivid’s Sex Sells
Want to rock in 2010 with some porn stars? Mega-porn giant Vivid and Opium at the Seminole Hard Rock have your perfect New Year’s Eve all ready for you!

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Nude Year’s Eve
Want to let it all hang out … I mean, literally, let it ALL hang out? Then the weekend butt-naked extravaganza at South Florida’s most well-known clothing-optional beach might just be your thing. Be warned, though, not all naked is created equal … some sights make you really grateful for the existence of clothes … just sayin’ …

Speaking of clothes, there are a few tasty options in the “fancy dress” category …

Alton, IL
Bubby & Sissy’s, an open-minded kinda place
How the fuck can you beat a fabulous drag show for unbridled fun? You can’t! This looks like a wonderful island of fab, sparkly sanity in the midst of what seems a pretty rural area so, if you’re anywhere nearby, maybe their New Year’s Eve party is just the thing to kick the ear off with some dragalicious kicks!

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Edinburgh (South Queensferry), Scotland
The Loony Dook
Okay, you’ve got me, Loony Dook is actually a New Year’s Day event, but it is part of the New Year’s weekend Hogmanay party/drunkfest so is fair game. Besides, how can one NOT love the hell out of a whole fuckload of Scots getting all dressed up in fancy dress costume, parading their asses down to the Firth of Forth in the cold, then plunging into the water for a frolic? Tell me that’s not a polar bear event with fucking killer style!

Speaking of love, how else do you think Venetians would celebrate the New Year?

Venice, IT
Love 2010
Sure, there’s a big, wonderful concert, dancing, and festivities but Love 2010 takes it up a notch on the LOVE. According to their website, “Once again, the New Year celebrations will culminate in a vast, communal kiss between over 60,000 people.” Pucker up!

There’s also some really great themed parties out there, ones that go well above and beyond to give you a night and experience you’ll not soon forget. Here are just a few examples of funky fun for the more adventurous …

Austin, TX
Welcome to the Freak Show
Like your fun with a circus freak edge to it? Welcome to the Freak Show might be right up your alley.

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London, UK
Gypsy Hotel
How can you resist anyplace that refers to themselves and their event as a, “Bourbon Soaked Snake Charmin Rock’n'Roll Cabaret and Freaky Side Show?” Easy, you fucking can’t!

Los Angeles, CA
NYETwentyTen – Space Odyssey
Super-futuristic with a frick’n geodesic dome? New Year’s Eve funkadellic WIN!

Newport, RI
New Year’s Murder Mystery at Astors’ Beechwood Mansion
What better way to have a killer night than spending the night with a killer? In the gorgeous Beechwood Mansion, you join the Astors for a night a theater, cut short by an untimely death, and get to try to solve a murder case.

Your taste even more exotic?
How about a night of sumptuous Indian cuisine, henna tattoos, and fabulously infectious music? You can get your festive Bollywood on at Brompton, Ontario’s New Year ’s Eve Bollywood Extravaganza or, if you’re here in Cali, you can do New Year’s Eve Bollywood Style at Junnoon in Palo Alto.

Now that we’ve explored the rational vice-y options for your New Year’s Eve, want to hear the most fucked up NYE package, ever? Of course you do.

What would you say to round-trip air from NY to Miami with 5-star accomodations, a cheuffer-driven Rolls to the three hottest shows and parties in town (Lady Gaga, John Legend, and Brody Jenner) for the mere paltry sum of $100,000.

What if I told you that it also includes a fucking boob job? Told you it was a fucked up package.

Speaking of fucked up, I must share something really funny I came across in my searching for tasty info for this article. Please enjoy the beautiful insanity that is Google …

click for full size and a good laugh

And, one last parting shot …

I hear, according to tradition in Bolivia, you really want to choose your NYE and New Year’s Day undies with care. Apparently, the color of your drawers will determine your fate in the coming year. Red will give you love & passion, yellow is happiness and money, green prosperity, pink for friendship, and white for hope.

Wonder what it means if you fly commando …

Whatever the new year brings, hopefully it’s all good!
It’s been a kickass year, sharing all the news of Lip Service with you all. 2010 looks to be an even more exciting year, with lots and lots of killer events and goodies to celebrate our 25th year.

Thanks for helping us get there and being part of our Original Cult of Fashion Freaks!

Mich
your friendly neighborhood webmistress

Well, it’s been a fun, freaky, and fabulously sexy year. We’ve had some firsts, some highs, and quite a lot of entertaining lows. Here are a few of my favorites!

Most Awesomely Ridiculous Contest - The World Air Sex Championship
What a landmark for this year, the very FIRST World Championship of Air Sex! Yep, that’s right, air sex. It’s silly, it’s geeklicious, it beats the crap out of that air guitar foolishness. It is a mountain of epic win. What more can I say … I mean, this shit speaks for itself!

Most Unfortunately Named Infomercial Product – The Slap-Chop
Can I just say HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Vince Schlomi was picking up steam. The Sham-wow and its absurd commercials had become a cultural fixture, giving him quite a lot of notoriety. He had a new product just launching … he was ready to move into Billy Mays or perhaps guy-with-the-bow-tie infomercial infamy … the Slap-chop was about to take off. Then, after a goodly number of girlie drinks, Vince picked up and proceeded to get into a violent altercation with, a hooker. Slap. Chop. *cue Laughter*.

Best Tasteless Twitter (actually, this is probably the all-time winner) – by Orion at Cinevolve Studios
“Now can we put Baby in the corner?” Yea!

Biggest Douchebag/Most Repeated and Embarassing Dropping of F-Bombs – Christain Bale
Can any garden-variety snit compare to the f-bomb barrage rage-fest by Chrisian Bale on the set of Terminator: Salvation? Pity for Christian that he couldn’t blame the crap showing of the not-so-blockbuster movie on the poor lighting guy, too, eh? We’ve all heard the original, “unplugged (or should I say, unhinged)” version, but have you heard this fabulously catchy re-mix? I’m bopping, how ’bout you?

Sex Tapes We Would Rather Gouge Out Eyes Than Be Forced To Endure – (tie) Carrie Prejean, David Letterman, Silvio Berlusconi
The retrograde Miss Califoria USA can keep her she-bop to herself … really. Same with talk of masturbation and such between über-creepy Italian PM Berlusconi and his hooker. But … and I’ll state this gently in the hopes of not giving you any mental pictures … David Letterman … fucking … GYAH! NO! And, worst yet, the “act” was done all over the studio building, captured on security tapes. Imagine coming across THAT view (or … yikes! NOT) while minding your own not-needing-brain-bleach business at your job. Geezer, geek boss nailing young underlings in the nooks and crannies of the building. Ewwww! I just gotta move on before I feel compelled to take some steel wool to my mind’s eye.

Most Surprising Freak: Tiger Woods
Who’d have thunk that, behind that chill exterior, our man Tiger was … well … a fucking tiger?!? At this point, am I the only woman in the Continental US who hasn’t fucked the rather prolific Mr. Woods? Look out Wilt … Tiger’s on your tail, man. The man not only has a killer swing, he’s a swinger. Good for you, Tiger. Golfers need to keep those nerves all relaxed and I can’t think of better way to tame whatever yips may come.

Most Funny Yet Really Fucked Up News Story – Oops: Teacher Accidentally Gave Self-Made Sex Tape to 5th Graders
Yes, you read that right. Some teacher, while compiling a DVD of class memories, accidentally inserted bits of naughty, naughty sex tape. She referred to it as “a horrible mix-up”. I’m pretty sure it’s more like a major jump-start on puberty for a class of 11 year olds. See what I mean, laugh your guts out funny, yet really very fucked up. The question I have, and pardon me for the lack of the more obvious outrage, but why in the hell is this woman keeping dirty evidence clips in the same place on her machine as nice, clean moments of her 5th grade class? It’s all a bit Tyler Durden to me … *shudder*

Most Likely Burning in Hell Now: (tie) Robert Novak and Billy Mays (maybe me someday)
Among the losses of beloved figures, there are always those who we kinda don’t so much mind that they’ve slipped the mortal coil. In some cases, very special cases, we harbor a little sly smile. Was there a bigger dick in the punditry class that Novak? Maybe a few squeekers, but he was the pinnacle of douchebaggery. Are some people just too fucking annoying to die? And, perhaps I’m going to hell for this (worth it, really), but all I could think when they said Billy Mays was dead was, “Thank Fucking Christ! Will he finally stop yelling at me?” Well, Mr Mays has had his last laugh, at least for now, as his grating, loud-ass voice is still yelling at us all from beyond the fucking grave.

On a serious and respectful note … R.I.P. to some groovy people …

Ricardo Montalbán – The most sauve bastard I’ve ever seen and one of the coolest villains, ever.

David Carradine – Two words … Kung Fu … that is all.

Farrah Fawcett – Her nipples straining against that bathing suit sprang a whole generation or two into sexual adulthood. Remember when smut was so sweet and nice?

John Hughes – He was our teen years.

Les Paul – He gave the world the soul of rock.

Oh, sure, there will be lots of lists all over the damn place about what all the boring-ass vanilla super-sunshiney people are thankful for coming into tomorrow’s show-thanks-by-stuffing-your-face fest. But who fucking cares about some asshole gushing over the kids they shove up your Facebook stream every fucking day anyway or the oft-posted-in-all-his-cutesy-pet-glory Mr. Fuzzy or what the hell ever … or *GYAH! … the endless meanderings about how very thank-fuuuuuuulll we should be for whatever mundane bullshit.

Well, I AM thankful … but for (at least I think) a slightly more interesting, eclectic, and … well, naughty list of fabulousity.

Warren Ellis

If you have not been introduced to the King of graphic novel jaded cynicism and glorious vulgarity (not to mention the weirdly funny and nasty one-frames “Edison Hate Future” and “Watson Hates Holmes“) go check him out immediately!  His Twitter stream has become so infamous, there is now an actual Warren Ellis twitter generator. (Arse eels to all involved!) This is also the genius who created Transmetropolitan’s Spider Jerusalem and gave him awesome lines, like: There was a time when I liked a good riot. Put on some heavy old street clothes that could stand a bit of sidewalk-scraping, infect myself with something good and contagious, then go out and stamp on some cops. It was great, being nine years old. His latest project, being the kick-ass human being he is, is FreakAngels, with free updates every Friday.

William Shatner

Is there a finer examplar of unbridled and unapologetic cheeztasticness in all the world? I think NOT! From the original gloriousness of Rocketman, to the god-awful TV shows, to his recent game show in which he ordered models over to poles to DANCE and OF COURSE the commercials, Shatner has a fine sense of humor about himself and the cult of personality which has grown around him and is a hero of epic proportion to any and all who can’t get enough ham-fisted, bloated semi-acting on a grand scale. Oh, and the “singing”! Enjoy this lovely tidbit of Shatnerificness lent to Jarvis Cocker’s “Common People” with Joe Jackson.

John Waters!

What self-respecting dirty stinking perverted freak does NOT adore the King of the Fringe, Baltimore’s Pride and Joy (or not … depending on who you’re talking to), John Fucking Waters. Beside his awesomely freaky movies, the man I like to think of as The Perverted Uncle I Never Had has also done some really fantastic spoken word. This Filthy World is equal parts insight, hilarity, and (of course) filth. Check out everything you could possibly want to know about the man and his work at Dreamland.

Larry Flynt

Ah, Larry, the patron saint of perverts and cranky bastards everywhere! I fucking LOVE this man! Not only has he built an impressive empire of awesome smut, he’s been there all along the way to fight for your right to see and read whatever the fuck you want. He’s hoisted holier-than-thou douchebags on their own sordid petards. And, all the while, he’s done it with quirky panache! Thanks Larry!

Finding everything you need for photo shoots 1 block away

How can a freak, especially one who likes to shoot lots of of sexy and gory photos, not absolutely love having latex, zesty mint blood, fangs, and everything else one could possibly want in walking distance? Add to that, a remarkably knowledgeable staff, who know everything one could ask about pretty much everything they carry, and you have a shop you never take for granted! Thanks Hollywood! Here’s a taste of some of the lovely stuff we did recently with goodies from our favorite toy store (photos by the Circus Hooker Smut Regime … painless decapitation by Wicked Illusions)…

Last but not least … how could any article of mine be complete without some lovely, naughty images to send you on your naughty way into this holiday weekend?

The Resurgence of Pin-Up!

Any and all of us sick to fucking death of seeing an endless array of starvation victims masquerading as hot babes can thank our lucky stars for the re-awakening of pin-up style. Curvy girls in saucy poses, a wink and a smile, and the lovely suggestion of invitation was something missing in other eye candy. Some of us want to be seduced, intrigued, lured … not bludgeoned with obvious and gratuitous. Thanks to The Pin-up Files for these gorgeous images of some of the classics and a few artists we may not have disovered otherwise. Check out their impressive 3-part gallery of some of the best pin-up art the web has to offer!

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Well, there you go … stuff to be thankful to have as a mental escape from the spectacle of being forced to watch Uncle Skeeter ask some poor schmucky kid to “pull his finger” one more damned time.

Happy Thanksgiving to US freaks and … well … Happy Thursday to all of you outside our food-coma-addled borders!

LA freaks, come by Bordello Bar Saturday night to join the WebMaster and I as we catch some bad-ass psychobilly, compliments of Mickey Finn and his new band, Cold Blue Rebels!