Section: Lip SerVICES

(a.k.a. Stop the damned texting and look where you’re going!)

Most of us, at one time or another, have fallen into what could be called The Millennial Vice. We tell ourselves it’s just a harmless diversion but, deep down, know better. Many fight their way out of the fog and funk but others, unfortunate souls, sink deeper into the abyss.

They just can’t seem to put down the damned internet.

For you whippersnappers who don’t know, the internet was not always everywhere. Those of us who remember when there wasn’t an internet can also recall long evenings suffering an uncomfortable office chair for hours, just to surf the web. Mind you, the early internet, for the most part, was pretty lame but we were hooked anyway, tied to our big, bulky desktop computers for our portal to the waiting cyber world.

Perhaps that was a good thing?

Back in the day, the internet world was still a fairly long-form sort of place, with essay-filled blogs, ongoing conversations in discussion boards or chat rooms, because it was stationary. We were very excited to be able to communicate with people all over the world about everything and nothing, spending hours lingering in relaxed enjoyment of whatever struck our fancy. We were at home, comfortable and relaxed, with plenty of time to savor entertainment or conversation.

Since then, virtually everything about the net has changed, most importantly how and when we connect. Unlike the land-line based old internet, we have a Jetsons-worthy array of ways to access the web on the go from practically anywhere. But do we really need to be on the web everywhere?

I submit, despite the mounting evidence most of you will disagree with me, meat-space deserves more respect than we’re giving it.

Whenever you go out in the world you see them, the folks ignoring their surroundings to post or text about … their surroundings. Then you have the people walking or, gawd forbid driving, in front of you with their heads perpetually down in rapt attention of a tiny, little screen and even tinier, little keypad. Let’s not forget about the addicts who you keep catching sneaking downward glances at the Twitter stream, desperate to not miss any 140 character or less bits of connectedness. I won’t even get into the “social media power user” types, it’s just too sad.

The first step to recovery is admitting there’s a problem.

We haven’t been very good about respecting boundaries, allowing internet to creep in where it had never dared before. Now it threatens to overcome meat-space, demolish all boundaries to become ever-present in our lives. Is this all we really want out of social interaction? Do we honestly not mind so much of our three-dimensional world whittled down to a one-dimensional series of status lines?

Damn, I hope not.

I further, humbly, submit our social culture needs an intervention, maybe a little tough love, too. The signs of meat-space on the ropes are everywhere. But, if we hold off the internet’s attack, just for a little while, meat-space can make a complete recovery.

Here is a nine-step method to get the internet monkey off your back:

- To start off, give yourself some unconnected time at home. Your first withdrawl pangs will be easier in a nice, comfortable space, surrounded by people you trust. Don’t fight them, just ride them out. Giving in to the jones can only drag out the process, so stay firm for as long as you can, then try to see if you can make it longer next time. No sense pushing too far and inviting a relapse, right?

- Next, reacquaint yourself with (or, in the case of you young whippersnappers, introduce yourself to) the longer thought process and physicality of writing a letter. Yes, a real letter written by hand on paper, with no keyboard for edits and do-overs. Back before the internet and email, we geezers didn’t have a way to make corrections without crossing things out, so thought out what we wanted to say before writing and took our time, carefully forming words so the recipient could read them. The words and thoughts we chose to express had weight, gravitas, because they took effort to write and send. The communication required time and attention. A letter was (and is) a compliment, a way to say, “You’re important enough to warrant my undivided attention.”  One cannot say the same of an email, no matter how well-written.

- Take it up a notch and invite company over but don’t rely on outside entertainment. Talk, play a game, run amok but don’t fall into checking devices or sitting mute in front of the other glowing box. Take the time to interact and commit to each others’ company. After all, seeking the imaginary (cyber) company of others while already in the company of friends is rude, anyway.

- Once you’ve mastered your domain, take back a little more space for meat-space. Go out into the world and do not check your device, even … dare I say … turn off any notification cues. Just run out to do your errands, pretending the cyber-world can’t come with you out into the meat-space.

- Here’s where it might get dicey for some of you unaccustomed to the wild, unpredictable world of meeting new people without checking out their bios, avatars, and post histories first. Go out into the world and talk to someone, anyone. Strike up a conversation in the long Friday afternoon bank line, enjoy some idle chat with the checker and bagger while they ring you up at the store, don’t ignore the person in the next seat. You’ll know when the time is right. When you’re tuned in to the world around you, those little moments of camaraderie happen fairly often, the times you and a total stranger connect in a common thought or purpose. Instead of letting it pass by with just a knowing glance or nod, say the thing that popped into your head you would have said if a friend was along, and you might be pleasantly surprised how funny and interesting random people can be.

- Start purposefully going to places where devices must be turned off. Certain places are all about complete immersion, so good to begin retraining your mind to engage with meat-space instead of looking for distractions. Take a lazy afternoon to stroll through a museum, get tickets to a show, explore the stacks in the library, whatever will make it easy to forget about that pesky internet monkey on your back.

- Adopt a solo-only internet policy. What I mean is, only do short checks of cyber-space and only when you are on your own. If your dinner companion goes to the bathroom, use those few minutes to check texts and emails, responding only to those which are urgent or time-sensitive. By the time they’ve returned, you should already have your cyber-woobie away and off the table. What this will start to do is demonstrate how ridiculous the idea of missing anything by not being connected is by forcing us to objectively weigh the importance of each communication. Would the random bits cluttering our screens be missed in their absence? Probably not.

- Now you’re feeling secure in the knowledge it’s okay to be unconnected. Urgent, life-changing matters, we’ve confirmed, are not happening on Twitter, unless you are in extremely rare circumstances. Anything important will prompt people to pursue direct contact, so all else can wait until we’re done with whatever we’re doing and have time to check in on the net. Keep expanding the parameters of your unconnected time until you are ready to go for The Big Unplug.

- You knew this day would come, that all the preparation was leading up to this watershed, crossroads sort of moment. It’s time to commit to taking your meat-space back, once and for all.

Take a truly unplugged day. By unplugged, I mean a conscious lack of any outside media … at all. Don’t look at email, twitter, web, even television. Treat texts and phone calls as if each one you give more attention than a cursory peek to decide its importance will cost a fortune (as mobile communication used to in the olden days). Obviously, emergencies can and do happen, which is one of the reasons to carry a mobile phone or device. We just don’t need to let the possibility of them rule our lives.

When The Boss and I go away to visit his parents, their house is, literally, on the side of a mountain surrounded by dense forest. We know, going into the vacation week, that, even if we wanted to keep fully connected to clients and social goings on at home (which we generally don’t anyway), getting and keeping a good signal is difficult at best. Initially, we worried, even though we gave everyone ample warning and preparation for our extended absence from cyber-space. The worries subsided once we discovered that, just by informing of our incommunicado status, people adjusted to not expecting constant contact and were fine with not getting immediate replies.

So, the lesson to be learned, whether we want to hear it or not is: The world will go on just fine without you. While this can be rather disturbing for some to consider, it actually is the best of both worlds. You can choose when you feel like being part of the cyber world without feeling like you can’t leave it behind.

It gives people the opportunity to miss you as well as providing more interesting things to talk about when you do return to the conversation. Folks will be more likely to look forward to your visits, pay closer attention when they happen.

Not a bad prospect, right?

You might even find you … *gasp* … like meat-space without the internet sticking its nose in.

Then, my fine degenerates, is when you know you’ve successfully escaped the clutches of The Millennial Vice.

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About Mich:

Mich Masoch is a lifelong hedonist, degenerate, and card-carrying pervert with a camera.  She is also a co-Ringleader of the Circus Hooker Smut Regime design and production studio and creator of Vampyrotic, a web magazine of quality vampire erotica, and other tastefully naughty websites.

It’s that time of year again. Do you feel it yet? The stink of forced romantic sappiness, the dread of the upcoming Bataan death march to florists and confectioners alike, the flop sweat of trying to somehow write something on a card more romantic than your lady’s friends’ partners?

Oh yes, the VD is in the air!

During my time here at the LS ‘zine, I’ve already shared my thoughts about this lame excuse of a holiday. I’ve also discussed the much groovier, freakier and sexier precurser holiday, Lupercalia. This year, I thought I’d try something a little different. This Valentine’s Day, I will endeavor to make my peace with VD. In that spirit, I will try to help in the process of making it a holiday everyone can enjoy.

Let’s be honest with ourselves, Valentine’s Day can be a great thing, a magical day filled with romance and giving to our partners. Now, I may be painting with a broad brush, but it seems where the holiday runs off the rails and heads straight to Crazytown is in the realm of man/woman relationships, where the visible elements of power struggle are played out to sad effect. It is as close to one gets to a fact of life, men with female partners, for the most part, get the shaft in the VD festivities. This, my lovely fellow degenerates, is where the help is most desperately needed, so where I will focus.

** Of course, these suggestions can work for any sort of couple. Romantic is romantic, no matter what.**

Ladies, this will mean giving up some ground, as well as some of the usual VD swag. It will also mean opening your mind to accept alternative forms of romance, the sort which are less about stuff and more about appreciating our partners. We’ve not been great at that kind, so there’s a lot of suggestions cast in your direction. Try not to take it too personally; I mean no harm, merely to save our souls from the evil clutches of VD gone awry.

Guys, it may seem at the start I’m letting you off pretty easy; don’t be fooled by the lack of pointed suggestions your way at the start of the list. We’ll be getting to you further down and, I assure you, it will not be as easy as a couple raggedy flowers. In this campaign to take back Valentine’s Day from oppression and stress, we all have some work to do.

If a truly romantic night with a fabulously amorous partner is your goal, isn’t it worth a little compromise?

Of course it is.

Why can’t we somehow mesh what guys would find romantic (or at least hot) and the mushy stuff many of you ladies want? Seriously, it can be done. Here are a few nifty ideas for a VD you both can love!

10 – Gift for HIM, not you

Forget the not-so-subtle hint gifts, ladies. You know the ones I’m talking about, the love coupons, scented oils and bath stuff, the passive-aggressive gifts which are not so much for him as for your fantasy sex life. Instead, why not get him something he really wants, something which will melt his heart knowing you truly “get” him? It may not sound romantic to you, but you may be surprised at the romantic effect of a pair of tickets for him and his bestie for his favorite team, a toy robot, a collectors’ set of the Die Hard movies. Think beyond you to what would make HIM happy and you’ll have a much happier mate far more willing to go the extra mile for the stuff you’re wanting, too.

9 – Skip the restaurant

Dinner out on VD is strictly for suckers. Seriously. Ask anyone who works in the food, restaurant, and service industry. There are few days when one can expect a worse level of quality and service for a greater level of stress and cost. Restaurants are slammed on Valentine’s Day, packed full of herds of misguided folks feeling they must spend a bunch of money on a meal to be romantic. Take care of both of your needs by just staying home!

You heard me … just stay home!

For a fraction of the cost of a VD restaurant night out, you can assemble a rather luxe night without the crowds and stress. Even if you can’t cook, how romantic is it to have a just-the-two-of-us picnic on your living room floor? Very romantic, I can say from experience. It doesn’t even have to be fancy, just what you both like and can enjoy together. He’ll appreciate the consideration of not draining his budget and you’ll have him all to yourself. It’s a win-win!

8 – Romantic is in the eye of the beholder

Now that you have a night in on your own, don’t try to over-reach into forced romance territory. Maybe his idea of the perfect mid-evening is hanging out with you and a big bowl of popcorn while you watch The Dark Knight or Monty Python or some wrestling … whatever. Maybe he’d love to play some World of Warcraft and beat the crap out of some monsters together. It’s a great opportunity to show how much you appreciate him and what he likes, as well.

Romantic, after all, is in the eye of the beholder. We womenfolk should at least try to understand their version, too.

7 – Gifting role-reversal

I may get a bunch of rotten cyber-tomatoes thrown at me for this one, but here’s an idea … Give him his VD card early and include a message in it (no florid poetry needed) which tells him the only gift you want for VD is his smile. If you are truly romantic, this should be more than enough of a present. How much more happy will that smile be, knowing you want nothing but him. If you want to take it up a notch (and go where many men do each year) get him something really thoughtful anyway (and make sure to mind tip #10). He will feel appreciated and just a little spoiled, which cannot be a bad thing.

6 – The gift of Me-time

Here’s another before-VD idea, but not necessarily for you if you really don’t want to give up the VD tradition of women’s rule. Inform him right about now, so he has time to plan if needed, your gift to him is to have Valentine’s Day (and night) to do whatever he wants. If he wants to go for a day of golfing with his boys, then come home late for some X-rated fun with you, that’s exactly what he’ll have. I know, it feels like not a romantic night for you at first blush but, if you’re thinking that, you would be mistaken. He’ll be the envy of all his friends and feel like the Luckiest Guy in the World. You’re the one who gave that to him; you will reap the deliriously-happy-man rewards.

5 – The gift of yes

Perhaps you want for him to want to be home all night, showering you with affection? It’s certainly a noble thought. Instead of trying to do the usual romantic song and dance with the rose petals, candles, and such, let him name his romantic night. Are you ready to give him a night where “No” is not on the table (within reason, of course)?  Where you serve him his favorite foods, dress (or undress) as he requests, entertain and amuse him in whatever way he desires? I’ve always been pleasantly surprised at just how open and ravenously amorous men can be when they don’t have the threat of judgement or refusal to hamper them in requesting what they want. Sometimes (read: often) we can actually better get what we want (a romantic and sexy mate to ravage us in a romance novel sort of way) by not insisting on the path we think will get us there.

4 – It IS the thought that counts, so think instead of spend

Guys, I’ve been pretty lenient on you so far. Obviously, you’ve had a lot of weight to carry for a lot of VDs past. But, this year, I’m going to challenge you to throw off that weight in favor of a bit of mental exercise. Sure, it’s easy to just do the common knee-jerk thing and book a table at an over-priced restaurant or grab a bunch of flowers … you know, the stuff which empties your wallet but costs no strain on your brain.

Not this year!

You know you’re slacking in the good-guy department when you trade money for romanticism. If you’re not the stereotypical caricature of a dude, the guy who smiles and nods instead of actually listening to his woman, you already know what you should do. As I’ve advised the ladies, you gentlemen need to step up your game. Don’t just settle for some lame VD crap, think about the things she loves, the stuff which makes her feel all ooey-gooey inside. Even if it’s a silly 99 cent wind-up toy and some of her favorite kinds cupcakes (ideally, that you made for her), if it’s her thing, she’ll love the thought you put into finding her the right thing rather than just doing the guilt-flowers thing.

3 – Write it down

One of the most unfortunate occurances on VD is the attempts at wordsmithing or, even worse, poetry by folks without a gift for prose. It can and should be much easier to express our feelings for the one we love. Instead of trying to be all florid and Shakespearean, why not just write something simple, straightfoward and from the heart? It doesn’t have to be Hallmark-worthy; actually, the less greeting card the better.

Try a little something daring this year, put your heart and feelings out there without the verbose flourishes. Sit down with any old piece of paper and a pen. Yes, I said a pen. There is a reason for this, my aspiring bards. I recommend sitting with that piece of paper and spend just a moment thinking about the most fond memory you have of your lover. Don’t take too much time or you will most likely overthink it. As soon as you have that memory fresh in your mind, before you have a chance to craft some wordsmithery around it, just write down how you feel and how that moment shaped how much you love your significant other. Don’t go back and read anything, just let the words run out of you as they will; in this case, I think a few typos will be forgiven. Once you’re done, fold over the paper, again, without reading it over or trying to edit your thoughts, and seal it up. When you’re celebrating VD, give it to your love and explain what you did and how you wanted to share your unfiltered thoughts about how much they mean to you.

Now THAT’s some romantic stuff! If you don’t have an off-the-charts passionate and romantic night, you may be with a member of the Borg, just sayin’.

2 – Give romance to others

This may sound a little nutty, but hear me out. The true path to a romantic VD may very well be to give the gift of romance to others. What do I mean? Do either of you have parents nearby or maybe older friends who have been together for a long time? You know the folks I mean, one of the couples who has such an ease together, just their very presence together makes everyone feel romantic dreams of soul-mates. Try doing something truly romantic and unselfish by giving them a beautiful Valentine’s Day. Set up a wonderful night for them based on their favorite things. Maybe it’s a romantic dinner you’ve cooked, served, and cleaned up after. Perhaps it’s being chauffered around town for a cocktail tour or an afternoon of getting to enjoy the favorite places they rarely afford themselves the time off to visit. In gifting others with a lovely bit of togetherness, you will be acting as a team for the sake of unselfish love … and that’s pretty damned romantic.

1 – Two VDs … It’s just crazy enough to work!

Once again, you might gasp a gasp of horror at the unseemly suggestion that, perhaps, the key to a successful and happy VD for everyone might be to spend it apart. Gads! Yes, I know, it seems the antithesis of all things traditionally romantic, but it’s just crazy enough to work.

Over the years, I’ve known far too many women than I can count who desperately want for their man to WANT to do the candlelight dinner, dancing, roses, etc VD thing. I have, conversely, known equal numbers of men who just as desperately wish their woman would find a vigorous romp in the sack the height of romanticism. More often than not, the twain shall never meet.

Why not team up for the best VD for everyone involved? If the ladies want a refined, candlelight dinner with a beautiful floral centerpiece, they can go out with their best girls and enjoy a gorgeous evening of sensual eating and drinking over soft lights and romantic music, maybe even go out dancing afterward, strut a little and flirt with handsome strangers (which you guys will, in the spirit of romantic generosity, not give them a hard time about). The guys, on the other hand, can go out and do boy things. They can grab a bite, watch guy flicks, maybe even go to a strip club if they so desire (and we ladies will, in the sense of romantic generosity, not give them a hard time about this). After everyone has had what they consider a great night, each couple can go home with their smiles firmly in place. The ladies are feeling romantic and a little high on giggly girly flirtation, while the guys are feeling bold and turned-on. Everyone’s loaded for bear and ready for some passionate “us” time in the best place possible to enjoy it. By not trying to force our own idea about romance on our partners, going further to trust them for a fun and slightly randy night out on their own, it sets the stage to be even more happy to see each other, which is a sure-fire recipe for a hot night of togetherness of the sweaty abandon sort.

What could be more romantic than that?

Welcome to the official Year of Nigel Tufnel, here in Lip SerVICES. If you don’t know why it’s the Year of Nigel, please hang your head in shame and get thee to Google … Philistine *heh*.

Anyway, with it being the start of a fresh, new year as well as the end of a kinda weird one, (not to mention your faithful degenerate correspondent being up to her neck in photo editing and shoot planning for the next issue of her sexy vampire web magazine) it seemed a good time to forego reading up on new topics and, instead, just riff on the year to come. So welcome to the VICES which will otherwise be know as “I Love Me a List!”

Let’s get started, shall we?

PREDICTIONS!!!!!!

It is hard to debate against the notion that, for many of us, the internet should probably be considered a vice, so I figure it’s still relevant to the general theme of my regular ramblings here. And, of course, as someone who spends the better part of my life creating stuff for and spending time on the inter-webs, my thoughts tend to spill in that direction, anyway. So, that in mind, I wanted to dedicate this VICES to some of my predictions (and hopes) for the year ahead on the inner-tubes.

@wilw: actor, writer, all-around groovy geek cat

10 – We will continue to discover the dirty little secret of many of the celebrities we’ve adored and admired. For example, though it’s not exactly a secret Courtney Love is bat-shit crazy (and Cher is a bit off her beam, too), we were never prepared for the opposite sort of discovery … many of our favorite stars manage to be some of the most boring and insipid people on Twitter. Whether it’s because they’re too mindful of image or just plain dull as dirt is not really that important when you’re bored to tears. Happily, the converse is true of some celebrities, who choose to let it whip and just be their fascinating, insightful, and often goofy selves (@wilw, anyone?). They may not necessarily be on the huge megastar creepy Scientology recruitment list but are far more interesting people we’d like to hang out with every day.

9 – More people will use the platforms of social media and networking in entertaining and often hilarious ways. Twitter streams like “Shit My Dad Says” (so sad about the show but, still, SHATNER!) and the spate of “Not” celebrity accounts (The most hilarious I’ve found so far being @NotGaryBusey) show a wicked creativity and scathingly clever wit. Others I’ve seen have created accounts on various networks for overlooked everyday objects, historic figures, characters in books, film, and comics with engaging results. I can’t wait to see what ways 2011′s twisted minds find to use these platforms in ways their creators never intended.

Tila = Stabby Hate

8 – Many people will continue to reach levels of annoying which will make the rest of us get a little stabby-stabby. The internet is an open place where anyone can contribute their voice and ideas. This is both the blessing and curse of it. Sometimes it’s hard to avoid your own personal demons … your Tila Tequilas, Perez Hiltons, and everyone who has ever posted some ridiculous self-aggrandizing crap suggesting that posting something to one’s FB status or doing some crap to the avatar somehow Makes a Difference™. Stabby-stabby feelings will happen, but often they will lead us toward somewhere free of such things and help us find new and interesting people and websites we might not have found otherwise. Sure it doesn’t make Tila any less of a toxically useless waste of space, but at least it’s something.

7 – Facebook will continue to infect another generation of youth. I came across an interesting (read: hilarious) opinion article written by a mother shocked (SHOCKED, I tell you!) by the behavior of her children’s friends and other youngsters on Facebook. (Mind you, this is not an indictment on FB, per se, but a laugh at social media platforms in general.) It seems having networks dedicated to nothing but posting all manner of content about oneself has made the kids, shall we say, a bit exhibitionistic. Apparently, the preferred mode amongst the kids in question here was to behave and pose in photos like they’re porn stars or strippers. (Funny side note: Knowing a goodly number of alt/fetish models whose very PG-rated accounts were pulled down, I find much irony in this.) Granted, having been a teenager for a time myself (not to mention having a memory of the same), I’m pretty sure we probably would have been done similarly, given the outlets and self-involved culture they have available. Still, it is amusing as hell to give a little tweak to the Chicken Littles of the soccer mom and ranting head set.

6 – Porn will still win. Yes, there will always be the squawking and breathless exhortations about cleaning up the internet. There will even be the show-trials. Yet, the dirty sexy party will continue. Sure, there are some very powerful and very vocal opponents to porn, but the reality? Plenty of them probably surf one-handed, too. And, even if they don’t, there still are way too many people who would be pretty pissed off, should the uptight micro-minority succeed in limiting access to their jollies. Would you want to be subjected to the pent-up frustrations of countless chronic masturbators, denied their spank banks? I know I don’t. That shit could get seriously ugly, really fast.

Speaking of awesome crap on the web ... THE OATMEAL!

5 – The inter-tubes community as a whole will finally rise up as one and hunt down the damned douchenozzles who still use pop-unders and auto-start music and videos. Oh, I so wish for this one, most of all!

*Okay, fair warning, I’m going to get a little more serious here. (I can’t help it. Web is much of my livelihood, so sometimes I’ve got to throw down a little.) So, if you’re looking for more snarktastic chuckles, just scroll down to the 2010 recap.*

4 – The annoying parade of endless social media platforms (and folks who try to take your money as “gurus” of the same) will see a mass thinning of the herd. We’re pretty much in a perfect storm of diminishing returns, with far too many mediums to “share ourselves”, bringing little more than overshare burnout. Don’t get me wrong … social media is one of the best internet developments of recent years, but its success could easily be the recipe for its overall failure over time.

Really, who has the time to keep up with FB, Twitter, MySpace, Foursquare, Formspring, Tumblr, much less all the niche networking sites, discussions, and profiles? Nobody with any sort of a social life, that’s who! If my instincts are correct, we’ll see a big bump up in the emphasis on interaction in actual meat-space (Fancy that!), while each staying active in just our favorite keep-in-touch and share-interests sites.

As a related follow-up … if one has followed the histories of mass user moves from one platform to another, the next prediction is a huge “duh” moment. Once a platform or networking site gets it in their head to try to capitalize on the popularity of their thing too much, too fast, the inevitable decline (and subsequent mass exodus) begins. I’ve heard lots of FB rumbling and been just as annoyed as others by the random (and often user-unfriendly) changes. Beware FB … you can very easily be the next MySpace (or Friendster … remember them?).

This is from an actual site ... Are we not inundated because we can piss on it?

3 – As in social media and networks, more and more people are getting more and more hep to the overblown (and ultimately unsatisfying) Mainstream Mass Market Machine. Whether it be commercials, ads, or whatever, Marketing is getting less and less able to sway a growing piece of the populace who has realized hype does not equal good. In fact, more people are growing increasingly annoyed by any attempt to “Market” to them in any way, especially those who have been burned too many times before. This can only be a good thing. Most Marketing (emphasis on capital M), in today’s day and age, has most of the main hallmarks of spam. It’s generally loud, obtrusive, and unwanted, not to mention that, as we grow better at filtering it out, the Marketers get more desperate to shove their Messages in our faces, making it all the worse.

Marketers tried to get around this purposeful avoidance by implanting shills in the very successful medium of smaller interpersonal and professional networks. Though a bit funny for everyone involved, it was still roundly rejected. A shill is a shill, after all, even when it’s a fanboy (or girl) doing the dishonors. If anything, this sneaky, little tactic actually set them back, causing even more annoyance at Marketing in general for its cynical dishonesty. Good show, Big Advertising!

My prediction? While Big M Marketing tries to figure out how and where it all went horribly wrong, the principals of marketing (the real ones) will gloriously live on. Every day, millions of people take to the inter-webs and actually talk WITH people (as opposed to AT them) about millions of products. They are real, honest, and (most importantly) not shouting slogans in crowded rooms. Instead, they’re finding their audience, initiating an intelligent and curious conversion about likes and tastes, and (the best part) doing it with RESPECT for the people they’re trying to reach. Imagine that, marketing which isn’t dishonest or insulting.

I know … how revolutionary, right?!?

FreakAngels by Warren Ellis - a remarkable web-based comic

2 – The expectations of the internet native generation will create a spike in content quality. Our little inter-net has grown up. So has its audience. Now, we have a new generation of adults who don’t remember a time before the internet existed. This is, of course, because they didn’t exist yet, either. Like the other developments and predictions, this is a very positive thing, set to bring an even better 2011 to the cyber-world.

Many of us who adopted the internet (and computer) at a later age were and often still are pretty impressed with just having an internet to surf. Not so, the Young Turks! Remember, this is not a new and fabulous miracle to them, but just another media and communication tool they use in everyday life. It’s like the generation before and mobile phones, the one before that with cable and VCRs, the one before with FAX. We still look at these developments as “modern advances” or, those of us who are silly people, as one step closer to The Jetsons and getting our damned jetpacks (DAMNIT!). We’re dazzled by the technology, so tend to be a bit less picky about what it’s doing.

The younger internet native generation is poised to demand more, and well they should! With their lack of wonder at the medium, they see further into the great platform it could be if we all just stopped being content with merely shouting at each other about what we’re up to at this very moment, and we all benefit by more quality content in the gigantic swirling mass of crap that is the internet.

1 – On a similar note, as we move into 2011, the lunatics will, indeed, go further in taking over the asylum!

The internet is the most powerful tool of communication and information which has ever been conceived, much less come into being. Up until now, a lot of the potential has been sadly unfulfilled. Fortunately, this situation is coming to a much-deserved end!

If you sit back and watch, you can and will see the Goliaths of old media getting theirs from a new generation of Davids in virtually all fields.

Ink: An exceptional independent film which found its audience online

Back in the day, you needed a major record label and (often bought and paid for) radio support to achieve any success as a musician or band. With clever use of the power of the internet, bands are finding they can find their audience and succeed without signing away their souls. And, without the huge cuts taken by the labels, they can do just as well (often better) without having to top any charts.

Filmmakers are in the same boat. Daring indie producers can create a gorgeous and engaging film like “Ink”, work completely outside the system, and still reach a huge audience. Even smaller indie upstarts and aspiring producers and directors can do the same, just on a micro scale. With the huge cost of going to the theater to see a movie, DVD is swiftly becoming the main market for film anyway … at least those not produced principally for overpriced spectacle … so, even without a supporting network of indie arthouse theaters (which is out there, too), good film can get out to the people who want it without the gatekeepers at the big studios and distributors.

Repeat this idea, over and over, inserting authors, artists, photographers, journalists, comedians, virtually anyone creating anything of value. The internet is the great equalizer of our time. For people creating quality work, there is equal access to all the same sets of ears and eyeballs, if they are willing to take the time and energy to go out and find them and move them enough to want what they’ve made. Certainly, being a massive world-wide conglomerate with a huge pile of money plus ownership of virtually every major network, magazine, and form of traditional media gives the Bigs an advantage in shouting down the growing swarm of smaller competitors. But, as we’ve found, funding an echo machine is growing less successful all the time. In the end, it’s all about the product … it’s all about the art.

The internet is making more and quality art available to more people, who are spending more time looking past the obvious to seek out the great music, movies, books, and art they know is out there … and the creative community is there to show it to them without insulting them or their intelligence. That’s why they’re winning and will conquer even more ground in 2011. If you listen really hard, you can hear the faint sound of a lot of people in very plush offices shitting themselves.

Congratulations, internet, on a superb year and good juju for an even better 2011 ahead!

¡Viva Web Revolution!

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A Very Special 2010 Recap …

Okay, now that I’ve spent a goodly amount of column-space pontificating and not really addressing sin or sexy subjects at all (I know! *feeling my head for fever*), here’s a little treat to make you laugh at the best ridiculous moments in sex from 2010 … what I like to call:
Hilarious Sex Scandal, Thy Name is Geezer!

You SO knew Charlie was on this list ...

Sure, I could count down a whole mess of other stuff, but is there anything more awesome than old guys getting caught with their pants down? No, I say, there is not! Seriously, I have a frick’n sweet tooth for this shit! Why is it that, whenever guys creeping up into the aged territory have sex scandals, they just can’t manage to be dignified about it? Granted, I’m not complaining about the laughs, but one would hope maturity would breed some … well … maturity. Evidently, not. Please enjoy the highlights of 2010′s most hilarious Geezers Gone Wild!

5 – I’ll start off with Charlie Sheen because, well, he at least used to be hot at some point. Besides, it’s a bit less of a ridiculous event and more like an honest-to-goodness meltdown; got to admit, if you have to have a public meltdown, there are worse (and far more embarrassing) ways to do it than in a nice hotel suite with a high-priced hooker and a fuckton of blow. Just sayin’. Takes doing a Daniel Baldwin and upping the ante.

4 – From that not-quite-so-low point, let’s do a significant downslide to a lesser geezer but probably the most hi-lar-i-ous of all the past year’s sex scandals, the one I like to call:
“Brett Favre Likes to Wear Crocs While He Rocks His Cock” (Yes, I read a LOT of Dr. Seuss.)

There’s lots of great stuff on this on DeadSpin.com, in case you want to enjoy the pathetic splendor of Brett’s rap and the even more sad spectacle of his junk.

Don't you worry about what Brett is doing below the frame

Granted, outside of the obvious, there’s not a lot to write about. It’s just awfully funny … no, actually … REALLY fucking funny … and a little sad. *heh* But mostly rippingly funny. How can thinking that sending a few pics of Little Bret (*heh*) might overcome the creeptasticness of his repeated texts and rambling voice mails and make the hot, young woman in question reconsider giving him a shot NOT be the best belly laugh of the year? I mean, I could almost understand that sort of deluded idea when Brett was at the peak of his hotness or if the woman in question was not a smoking babe with plenty of opportunity to bag a younger, hotter, better catch. An over-the-hill grandpa with a very tired (and lame beyond the creepy factor) “just a country boy” patter? Meh, not so much. Outrageously funny delusion, thy name is Favre!

3 – Damn! How do you follow that? Well … then again, we DO have Mel. Ahhh, Mel!
Does anyone remember, back in the day, when we used to marvel at Mel Gibson, impressed and wondering how he did such remarkably convincing “crazy”? Well, guess THAT ship has sailed, huh! We already have the awesomely epic legacy of “Sugar Tits”, a pet name which gets frequent use around our place, but the Mel crazy train just keeps on chugging along! Sadly, now it’s just all gotten fairly tawdry and A LOT creepy.

If you’ve missed the unhinged craziness which is Mel ranting at and threatening his ex, Oksana, it really is quite the revelation in bat-shit crazy. But, in the spirit of honoring last year’s glorious mashup of Christian Bale and groovy dance beats, I will go beyond the raw rage of the original tapes straight toward the laughs and offer instead:

The Mel Gibson and Christian Bale mashup! (If you have issues with “blue” words, I’d advise skipping this heaping helping of vulgarity, because it’s pretty frick’n raw …)

Your #1 Embarrassing Dirty Old Man *cue applause*

2 – Could you ever imagine former VP Al Gore as a “crazed sex poodle”? Yeah, me either. *shudder* But, nevertheless, this is how Al allegedly appeared to a masseuse, who reported him for allegedly trying to get himself a Happy Ending™. Seriously, I don’t even want to know. I think this is all I can really say about this without feeling a little icky inside.

1 – Moving up into serious Geezerdom, we have a returning geezer from last year …
Welcome back Silvio Berlusconi!
This year, we have the new revelations of so-called “Bunga-Bunga” parties. This is where the 70-something and his pals get into a pool and are surrounded by underwater naked babes. Bunga-bunga, huh? *bets Jimi there is already a developing network of bunga-fetish sites* But, really? Ewwww even more than last year! Ancient sack + shrinkage = I need a fuckton of brain bleach to purge that hot mess from my brain pan!

Larry King: Hall of Fame Dirty Old Geezer

This next geezer defies countdowns of any particular year, being a dirty old geezer for probably as long as I can remember. So, I think I will bestow upon him the title of Honorary Grand Master Geezer and place him in the Hall of Fame (Probably a lock for Silvio to cop this plumb spot next year, too!)

I just have to say, “What in the fuck, Larry King?” Does this man have an eternal Viagra fountain in his house? A direct line to Smiling Bob? Who knew shriveled junk and suspenders were such sex magnet turn-ons for the ladies! This year, Ol’ Larry (we stopped counting the rings on his tree ages ago) got himself in trouble with wife #7 (Yep, SEVEN) for allegedly diddling her younger sister! Way to keep in classy, Lar’!

*Important VICES PSA: If you were not already aware, a Larry King is now on the loose. He should be considered armed with boner pills and VERY dangerously horn-doggy.*

Okay … all together now … EEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

Here’s some brain bleach and mental floss for you to take with you on the way out …

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There is a lot going on, some of which I’ll cover in more detail next month, when I share some info and stories from inside the belly of the naughty beast. But, you’ll be able to check out some fun collaborations I’ve been able to do with other members of the Blacklist sooner! We’ll have some killer shots from my set of La Carmina (Global Gothic) and Sebastiano Serafini as elegant steampunk vampires (in Step In Time, of course) posted up in the next few days! Then, next week, I’ll get the chance to shoot Chad (Cherry, The Devil Inside) as a kickass rock-n-roll vamp, since The Last Vegas business is bringing him out here to LALAland! Look for the photos in his next feature!

Yes, this is already shaping up to be one hell of a fun year! More evidence to come next month!

I’m a big fan of hunting down the very best gfts, finding just the right thing for my unusual friends (who, of course, have very, very unusual tastes). Knowing how time-consuming this can be, as well as how frustrating, I thought I’d give you guys a head-start by showing you some of the more … shall I say … unique finds I’ve come across in my web travels. Of course, some stuff I come upon is so bizarre, so ridiculous, just so plain fucking wrong I couldn’t NOT share them with you as well.

Think of it as a nice holiday prezzie of laughs from your Auntie Mich.

Lastly, there are some things I’ve found which are just so fucking cool, I must share the word they exist so others can enjoy their splendor, as well! You may not necessarily agree with some of my selections, but that’s the fun of gift-giving, isn’t it? Taste (like opinions) is like assholes … everyone has it and thinks everyone else’s stinks. Grain of salt, anyone?

Because I’m not about shilling, I’ve mostly not put links into the text. There will be some exceptions but they’re rare. But you all are resourceful, little suckers so I’m sure you’ll have little trouble finding stuff here on the inter-webs if you are so inclined.

So, here goes!

Stuff That’s Kinda Awesome

Who doesn’t need a Turbotronic Headgear with X-ray Spec Goggles? Certainly not me or virtually anyone I know. Sure, we’re all frick’n geeks … that just makes the world more fun, right? Also in the fabulously geektastic category? How about a Darth Maul Double-Bladed Lightsaber (see Coolest Shit for something EVEN BETTER)? A Laser-scoped AirZooka? Maybe a deliciously mathtastic “Money is the Root of All Evil) Tee?

Want even more brainy? I have just the thing … Great Scientists Finger Puppets! Now, you can imagine stimulating conversations between Tesla and Darwin … the interplay between Freud and da Vinci, as he probes the deeper meaning of his works … even Schrödinger’s cat and Pavlov’s dog get in on the action. AWESOME

A little less cerebral? Try a candy-pooping Santa! I mean, really! Santa … pooping candy! I think anyone who doesn’t love that has HAD to have a senseofhumor-ectomy!

Think they’re the badassiest of badass? Give them their very own Action Figure … and I don’t mean a plain old action figure … I mean an ACTION FIGURE OF THEM … carved custom from your photos! Honestly, if they were just a skosh better-looking, this would be a gimme for Coolest Shit, Ever. Still, check it out, they’re pretty damned good, anyway.

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Also in this category … I must admit, I have a HUGE geektastic chub for all things word play. Here are a few of my favorites, from among the Kinda Awesome ranks. Some Spinal Tape? Yes! There are also Bacon-flavored Mmmvelopes (groovy!), Freudian Slippers (Oh YES!), and a Jesus Saves Bank (*hee hee*). but there is one which REALLY stood out as the BEST …

Do you want to give a FLYING FUCK? Because, seriously, now you can. How fucking awesome is that? Really fucking awesome, that’s how much! I mean, COME ON … it’s not only a Flying Fuck … It’s REMOTE-CONTROLLED, the freaking Mama Cass of Awesomeness!

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Picks for the Lazy Bastard

Are your friends lazy? Now, I’m not talking about a little slacky … I mean I’m talking about chronic, superbly, lazy on a massive scale. I’m talking in the range of Jabba the Hut lazy. You’ll see what I mean when you see the “interesting” treats I’ve found.

Apparently, super-taxing things like, say, stirring choloate milk, cracking eggs, turning pasta on a fork are just too much work for some people. So, now these thoughtful makers-of-crap have solved those important problems once and for all!

And, yes, some people do things like make s’mores, eat ice-cream cones, play catch with the dog, and make snowballs because … well … they’re kinda fun to do. Evidently, even these activities are too much for some people because there are devices made to do just those things. Really, they are devices made JUST to do that one thing. One would think having to find places for all these absurd unitaskers would make it a zero-sum kinda game, but, then again … if you are the sort of person who thinks it’s JUST TOO MUCH WORK TO TURN AN ICE-CREAM CONE TO LICK IT, you probably have bigger issues at play, anyway.

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WTF?!?!

While exploring the wilds of the inter-webs, one invariably comes across some really fabulous WTF. So, it stands to reason, while surfing the web for gifts, one would find some really fucked up shit. Things that make you think, “Really? Was there really a hole in the product world which needed to be filled by … what the FUCK is that?” I’m sure you’ll enjoy these as much as I. They’re really crazy and unecessary and fantastic wastes of money … so feel free to get some for all the frenemies on your list!

Have a friend who is, tragically, turning a shade too hipster (*eek*) but, sadly, doesn’t have the hirsute growing-power for that all-important ironic facial hair (*gads*)? Then, the 6-way Stache is just the thing! Not only will they have ironic facial hair, they’ll have ever-changing ironic facial hair! Y’know … that might be almost too fun and stupidly silly to be hipster …

Almost made the word-play category, but really was a bit too Ewwwww to hit the kinda-awesome bar … but I submit to you, The Wine Rack! Get it?!? Rack! A shirt that holds booze in your rack HAWHAWHAW! *sigh*

I actually found a wide array of very weird products designed for children … showing the biblical frick’n plagues of Egypt. Really … how would you have felt if YOUR parents burned one of those Hanukkah gifts on a Boils finger-puppet? Plague bowling … anyone? The best … choco-plagues! Ewww!

Speaking of Ewwwwwwwwww … how about a Vibrating Mitt Chair which has “easy to clean fabric”? An ashes urn of the deceased’s head (kinda cool, yeah, but just too fucking creeptastic, really)? An Aromatherapy Eye Pillow … does it smell of dog … yuck? A visor for your va-jay-jay? Or perhaps … the biggest Ewww … a Succu-Dry! An artificial beej-in-a-can with fangs? Just too f’n strange.

Speaking of disturbing … I’ve found a very interesting sub-group of really fucked up stuff made to service the (apparently) crazed need for all things (*gak*) Twilight. Please enjoy the gallery I like to call, “Twi-Shite”! (I’ll leave it to you and your imaginations to figure out what’s under that “covered” bit – since we like to keep up a maximum R-rated sort of ‘zine – but I’ll give you a hint from the manufacturer’s ACTUAL marketing copy, “Updated by popular request… Yes the The Vamp retains hot and cold temperature. Toss it in the fridge for that authentic experience.” Can I just say … Ewwwwwwwwwwwwww!

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There is one WTF thing which deserves a bit of special attention. Not only because it’s the epitome of fucked up and unecessary, but it’s almost (I said ALMOST) weird enough to qualify as Kinda Awesome. Ladies, Gentlemen, and Fellow Degenerates, I give you … Dress-Up Squirrel Magnets! WTF?!

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The Coolest Shit, EVER!

Okay, you’ve suffered through plenty enough other stuff … it’s time for the grooviness payoff! Here is the stuff you want to give and absolutely want to see in wrapped packies with YOUR name on them!

In the geektastic category, we have an Aliens USB drive. Not only is it shaped just like a Geiger alien, it has a working inner-freakin-mouth! Fucking COOL! We also have a megahub … 24 Ports OF EXTERNAL JOY! The best, I think, are the Mythbusters Science Kits. Yep, you read it right! Myth-fucking-Busters experiments to enjoy right there at home! SO DAMNED COOL!

Now, we have some über-geek … Do you need a full-tilt replica (working) Darth Vader Force FX Lightsaber? Of course, you do! An 1:1 freakin’ replica Inigo Montoya sword? Hell yeah! Everyone in my way, “Prepare to DIE!” Love to note the … shall I say … temporary nature of Red Shirts? Now you can wear your very own RedShirt! YEA! You can also train in the Force with your very own Force Trainer! Speaking of training … are you preparing for the impending zombie apocalypse? Do it tastier with Tactical Bacon in a Can! Seriously, delicious bacon which will keep in the can for up to 10 years to give you a smoky, yummy reason to fight and WIN! Gore geek? How about a simply awesome Pool-of-Blood Lamp. Seriously, I think I need one of those right away.

Many of you might have already checked out the fabulously disturbing art and jewelry of the fabulously disturbed Ugly Shyla. For those of you who haven’t, here are a few treats to give you an idea of the creeptastically awesome stuff she creates. Caged Dolly White Formal Art Purse … Broken Doll Face necklace … Conjoined Twins Necklace. You can see them in thre gallery … you’re welcome!

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Three things stood out to me as the very coolest of the cool … stuff you simply should not have to do without … enjoy!

Really stuck on what to get the “fringe” of the list? You know, those people who you like enough to want to do something but not really quite enough to cough up the scratch for a real present.

Want to become an instant Secret Santa legend? Give the gift everyone will bring up as the Best Secret Santa, EVER for years to come?

I have just the very thing … spend cheap but be the giver of everyone’s favorite thing this year with the Nelson Mandela Air Freshener. Seriously, it’s an air freshener with Mandela on it. Better still, it says, “Damn Nelson Mandela, you smell so good!” As an owner of this small slice of pure awesome, I can attest to the hours of fun and chuckling whenever you’re near your Mandela.

And, a little something you might not have already known. Apparently, Mandela smells like delicious fresh-baked cookies. Somehow, I just sort of knew he would …

First, in the category of delisciously fucked up … Canned Unicorn Meat. Insead of telling you about it, I’ll let the fabulously twisted mids at ThinkGeek to do the honors:
“Unicorns, as we all know, frolic all over the world, pooping rainbows and marshmallows wherever they go. What you don’t know is that when unicorns reach the end of their lifespan, they are drawn to County Meath, Ireland. The Sisters at Radiant Farms have dedicated their lives to nursing these elegant creatures through their final days. Taking a cue from the Kobe beef industry, they massage each unicorn’s coat with Guinness daily and fatten them on a diet comprised entirely of candy corn. As the unicorn ages, its meat becomes fatty and marbled and the living bone in the horn loses density in a process much like osteoporosis. The horn’s outer layer of keratin begins to develop a flavor very similar to candied almonds. Blending the crushed unicorn horn into the meat adds delightful, crispy flavor notes in each bite. We are confident you will find a world of bewilderment in every mouthful of scrumptious unicorn meat.”

Awesome! Somebody BETTER get me some!

But, I think I might be able to forgive them, should I get …

a Floating Arm Trebuchet!

Dude! I so need one of these … a real freakin’ trebuchet! Just for me! There are no words … honestly, none are needed. It’s a fucking honest-to-f’n-goodness trebuchet! Who DOESN’T need one of these?!? Nobody, that’s who!

So, if you don’t see me turn up to talk about sin and perversion next month, you’ll know why …

I’ll be laying seige to the fucking neighbors!

Okay, I hope I’ll not be bursting anyone’s T-Day bubble when I offer the interesting little fact that Thanksgiving is not exactly what we’ve been led to believe. For that matter, neither were the stolid Pilgrims we were forced to color or cut out of fucking construction paper year after damnable elementary school year. In fact, virtually nothing we think we know about Thanksgiving has any basis in reality.

What’s a good degenerate to do?

Why not take a cue from the REAL thanksgivings (yes … plural) past and have yourself a fabulously vice-laden T-Day weekend, chock full of R and NC-17 rated delights and their good friends, the Deadly Sins! It’s much more traditional than you think. Contrary to countless dead-ass dull school pageants and well-meaning holiday specials, the “Pilgrims” were not a homogenous group of super-boring meek black-wearing buckle-festooned sticks in the mud. First, you can mostly forget the snazzy goth-o-licious all-black wardrobe, as well as the ubiquitous buckles, which were a 19th century invention. And, contrary to the image of uniformity we’ve been given, it’s estimated only 35 of the 102 colonists aboard the Mayflower were actually what we think of as “Pilgrims” (aka Puritans). The others were seeking their fortunes in the New World or indentured servants, trading a few years of labor for a fresh start in the new colony.

So, most of the Mayflower Pilgrims were opportunists. That in mind, what could be more traditional to the Pilgrims’ legacy than taking the opportunity to rack up a few extra pegs on the old sin-o-meter?

I just love when embracing tradition means more delicious vice, don’t you?

Here are a few juicy suggestions of ways you can celebrate your traditional Thanksgiving weekend:

1) Have a nice romping round of pre-marital sex

As I mentioned … the Pilgrims? Not the uptight puritanical lot we’ve been led to believe. There was plenty of boot-knocking going on among the Colony set. University of Virginia did a very interesting analysis which estimates just over 10% of the marriages of the Plymouth Colony resulted in births conceived via premarital sex. But it gets even better! They also estimate up to a 50% premarital sex rate among the Pilgrims. Not exactly prim, eh?

So, perhaps you’d like to celebrate your day of thanks with a LUSTY bit of good old buckle-bumping … it’s what the Pilgrims would have done!

2) Screw the turkey … go sushi!

Okay, I will admit, it is taking a bit of liberties with the T-day feast, but so does the Thanksgiving “traditional” meal we’ve been eating all along. Though small, wild turkeys MAY have been on the 1621 table, fish and eel most probably WERE a part of the feast of thanks giving (with possible additions of clams, oysters, and mussels). Yes, the fish would not have been raw, but it at least was there in some form, unlike many of the woeful concoctions we’ve been forced to endure over many years’ holidays. And, of course, you can still get a lighter load of GLUTTONY plus the bonus SLOTH points of not having to cook the whole hooplah gorge-tastic gut bomb OR clean up after oneself. Looking into the history of our mooching original Americans, once again, our vice-filled plans cleave more to the real deal than the hokum and you get tasty sushi in the bargain instead of bloating and a bad case of gas from Aunt Mabel’s green bean casserole. EPIC VICE + TRADITION WIN!

3) Tell lots and lots of lies …

Boring T-Day? It's all her fault.

There is no long weekend vaca buzzkill like having to deal with “those” relatives. You know the ones. The Fortune 500 cousin with the impossibly luxurious lifestyle, the brother with the über-hot wife and glamorous film industry job, the “why can’t you be more like” relations who haunt every extended family function. So what if you drive a rust-bucket beater and spend your days in off-grey cubicle hell? You flew in from out of town. Do they need to know what your day-to-day bullshit is really like? Hell no! Take up the Thanksgiving traditional habit of … shall we say … advantageous embellishment. That’s right … kick the ass of that pesky ENVY with a smattering of PRIDE in your fictionally fabulous life.

Why not? Almost the entirety of the “Thanksgiving story” is just that, a story. Invented by 19th century writer and poetess Sarah Josephina Hale (who we can also blame for Mary Had a Little Lamb … damn her and the f’n recorder they made me play it on!), the whole fable was crafted of whole (black) cloth (plus buckles) in a campaign to establish a national holiday. And, of course, the Thanksgiving legend wouldn’t even exist without a quite healthy dose of embellishment and sanitizing of the “original” celebrants. So, by chucking out a few well-placed whoppers, you’re being all kinds of respectful to tradition and having fun, too!

4) You load up … you party …

Sure, if you want to be an untraditional pussy, you can limit your Thanksgiving feasting and festivity to one meager day. But, if you are a hale and hearty celebrant, like the stout Pilgrims of Plymouth and their native pals, you’ve got to go for the gusto. Three day party, dude! And, by the one contemporaneous written account, a three day party with enough food to last everyone over a week. Talk about a bit of GREEDY consumption … our good friend GLUTTONY … washed down with Pilgrim beer (it is estimated about a gallon a day of beer was commonly consumed *hic*) and followed by shooting off some fucking guns. Day-yum! That’s giving thanks with a vengeance!

So, a long-weekend of gorging, imbibing, and deadly weapons? It’s utterly traditional, so let the good times roll!

5) Make yourself at home and then some!

There is nothing more traditional to Thanksgiving than taking more than your fair share! In the storied 1621 feast, guess who brought the bulk of the grub? That’s right, the folks who shortly wound up with the short end of the proverbial stick, which only shows … being too generous is surely an invitation to take advantage. Let Grandma buy and cook tables full of food … she WANTS you to feel blessed with plenty so why concern yourself with anything but getting all you can? Thankful = excessive consumption, right?

And, while you’re at it, don’t feel like you have to respect notions of whose space you’re squatting in. After being supported with help, advice, and friendship, as well as needed food, the Pilgrims gave thanks to the helpful natives by stealing their land while selling them into slavery or just flat out offing them. So, feel free to take over Grammy and Grampy’s house, maybe help yourself to their car or a few saleable items, even make them run your errands, do your laundry, and clean up after the mad parties you’ll be having. They should be grateful to be spared greater indignities, after all, and appreciative to have themselves and their former property in the hands of someone who truly understands how to exploit them to the fullest extent. Ah, GREED! What could be more traditional than that?

All this still feel a bit buckled down for your liking? Take a few tips from the Pilgrims of old to take your vice-tastic thanks-giving day to the next sinful level!

BONUS GUSTO BRASS-BALLS POINTS

6) What’s a little pestilence between friends?

Want that certain someone all to yourself? Give thinks by giving the gift that keeps on giving! Hook up a rival for the apple of your eye’s affections with someone sure to give them a raging case of herpes. Then, proceed to be extra-super-thankful for the LUSTY ENVY-busting bounty the spreading of sexual pestilence has provided you.

A few choice quotes from the original “thankful”:
John Winthrop, Governor of Massachusetts Bay Colony, called the smallpox plague among the natives “miraculous.” To a friend in England in 1634, he wrote: “But for the natives in these parts … for 300 miles’ space the greatest part of them are swept away by the small pox which still continues among them. So as God hath thereby cleared our title to this place …”

Even before the Mayflower sailed, King James of England gave thanks to “Almighty God in his great goodness and bounty towards us,” for sending “this wonderful plague among the savages.”

7) A little celebratory ultra-violence never hurt anyone!

There are lots of ways to celebrate the spirit of Thanksgiving. For instance, you can take your cue from the Dutch Governor of 1641 Manhattan, who offered a scalp bounty on natives. Or you can set your goals higher and emulate the churches of Manhattan, who announced a day of “thanksgiving” for the mass slaughter of Pequot villages which wound up being celebrated by Dutch and Puritans alike festively kicking about the severed heads of “savages” through the streets like soccer balls. Wheeeee!

Makes the yearly “Black Friday” shopping riots feel a little like child’s play, doesn’t it?

Speaking of … here are a few nifty links along those lines as inspiration for your “traditional” Thanksgiving celebration:
16 unbelievable shopping disasters (plus videos!)
2009 Black Friday shopping mayhem round-up

8) Get inspired by Frank Costanza and invent your own thanks-giving style holiday

A thanks-giving “Festivus for the rest of us”? It’s not as off-base as you’d think. As I mentioned earlier, what we think of as “The First Thanksgiving” not only wasn’t anything remotely like the oft-told fable, it wasn’t the first. It’s not even close. I mean, not only wasn’t it NOT the first “Thanksgiving” day in the North American continent, it wasn’t even the first T-day feast involving encroaching (and soon-to-be-conquering) settlers and soon-to-learn-better friendly Native type folks. Check it out … this is just a taste …

In 1598, 24 years before the Pilgrims’ feast, a Spanish expedition enjoyed a thanksgiving meal in El Paso, Texas with the Tigua Indians.
In 1565, 56 years before Plymouth, a Spanish explorer landed in St. Augustine, FL and celebrated a (bean soup) feast of thanksgiving with the Timucua Indians.
In 1564, a group of French Hugenots celebrated their settlement of Ft Caroline, FL with a feast of thanksgiving (with wine, bread, and lots of tobacco) with the local Ticuma Indians.
There are also other “thanksgivings” in various regions, but I think you get the idea …

9) Get that awesome corner unit you’ve had your eye on!

Wracked with ENVY over the neighbor’s roomier, swankier pad … GREEDY for their stylish furnishings and shiny-new appliances? Feeling a bit of ragey-ragey ANGER at not having these goodies for yourself? Nothing says T-day tradition like violently helping yourself to the bounty of others!

Here are a few prime examples of traditional thanks-giving for bloody-taking:

In 1633, two slave raiders were killed by Pequot resisting capture, so the Puritans demanded the killers be turned over to them. The Pequot refused. The army the Puritans assembled lacked both the numbers and experience to take on fierce Pequot warriors, so instead, they attacked the Pequot a village at a time, during pre-dawn hours, setting them ablaze and burning sleeping natives alive. Captured women and teens were sold as slaves; the rest left (temporarily) alive were massacred.

Remember that whole head/soccer ball giving-of-thanks? Here’s the rest of the story … Over 700 Pequot gathered in 1637 for their yearly Green Corn festival, where they gave thanks (yes, we even stole the holiday from them, too). English and Dutch mercenaries surrounded the natives in the pre-dawn hours while they were sleeping and ordered them outside, shooting or clubbing to death any who obeyed, then burned the longhouse to kill off the terrified women and children who remained. The Massachusetts Bay Colony Governor declared his previously-mentioned “Day of Thanks-giving” for the slaughter. A follow-up “victory” resulted in yet another day of giving thanks, compliments of Father Church, with the afore-mentioned severed-head-kicking. Thanksgivings were as common as massacres, one more ending with the head of the friendly Wampanoag (remember them from 1621?) chief impaled on a pole in Plymouth (which remained in place for those wanting a little booster-thanks for almost 25 years).

So, comparatively speaking, doing away with just one pesky rightful owner doesn’t seem so harsh …
… and, after all, you’d be SO thankful!

Know what I’m thankful for? Really?

Forest Nui Cobalt - her last dance at Ruin by LADEAD™

My gushy, smoochy thanks to the other members of the Blacklist: Vanity Kills, our oldest and most lethal Blacklister; Full-time Rock Star and All-around badass cat Mickey Finn; The Goddess of Gore herself, Nos, and her viciously charming counterpart, Chad Cherry; Our dashing creator of ink artistry, Little Dave Parker; and the Killer team of Lippy Designers!

Special extra huggy, kissy thanks to our resident Lippy Astrologer and one of my very favorite people to view through my lens, Forest Nui Cobalt! Click the link to check out a gallery of the beautiful images Plastic Hassle caught from Forest’s last night dancing at Ruin by LADEAD™ … and, in case you forgot … Forest was also one of my über-sexy models for the photo homage to The Night Porter.

The big, rodeo hug thanks I save for all of you who give us all a reason to look forward to our respective Wednesdays. Thanks for giving your love and eyeballs to our little webzine and keeping the Fashion Freak Flag flying high!

Have a great holiday long weekend, you fabulous degenerates – no matter how you choose to do it – and I’ll be back next time with more fun-filled sin and debauchery for your reading and viewing pleasure!

There is something about the coming of fall (AT LAST for we Angelinos), the biting chill in the air, which gets our juices going just thinking about Halloween coming up! Why, oh, why must we be limited to just one day of playing dress-up, I ask! It seems such a shame to limit our want (*hee hee* need) to play with different looks and styles and images to one all-too-brief 24 hour period.

So, I officially declare October in full as honorary Halloween dress-up month. If that’s not quite enough, perhaps we’ll just have to expand out to the rest of the year. Damnit, we all have lots of dressing up to do … so why the hell not!

We have, for some time, really wanted to do a photo feature using Lip Service to capture an intriguing subject. Mind you, we just love us some dress-up, so any excuse to wrap models in some killer gear, we’re probably going to be all over it.

Yes, the urge for a costume-oriented photo shoot was too much to bear. But we didn’t want to do the obvious … that’s just not our style. Then, in our web travels, we came across this iconic photo of Charlotte Rampling and some other images from The Night Porter. Obsession set in.

Some films just stay with you, for good or ill. If you’ve not seen it, The Night Porter is one of those films. To say the theme is dark, the story disturbing, is a massive understatement. Yet, there is a tragic beauty, especially to Charlotte Rampling’s portrayal of Lucia, the former concentration camp survivor suddenly reunited with her former Nazi SS tormenter & sometimes protector. Every now and again, when one deals in vice and the imagery of it, a bit of dark peeks through … urging you to attempt to capture a similarly stark brand of beauty and tragic obsession.

So, my lovely degenerates, that’s what we set out to do.

Then we remembered the new Lip Service Step In Time men’s military pants and suspenders … Hmmm … that would be crazily close to the original image. Add a Cold War era cap we found at our local military surplus augmented with the military shield from the Das Bunker group and the newly-back matte vegi-leather full-length gloves from the Patent Vinyl group, WOW! To dress out our officer, we decided to start out a bit off the original with the Das Bunker men’s shirt … mainly because it’s just too fabulous of a piece of clothing not to use.

We enlisted my fellow Blacklister Forest Nui Cobalt, our resident Lip Service astrologer and über-hot dancer, and her real-life partner in sexy, Pierre Ordinaire, to embody the characters. I must say, we couldn’t have chosen better! Forest has the same delicate beauty as Charlotte Rampling and, Pierre, while not exactly resembling dark brunette Dirk Bogarde, made a gorgeous exemplar of Teutonic handsomeness.

Here are some of the photos from the first set:

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Then, once we got rolling, the riffing which tends to happen when you put together crazy, creative lunatic kind of people kicked in. Pierre happened to have some groovy goggles, so we jumped out to the fire escape of our funkily old building (aiming the studio lights out the windows … gotta love having a MacGyver of a husband as your lighting guy … thanks Jimi!). These shots took on a bit more of a fantastic steampunk feel, so we just kind of went with it and let the images fall where they may, while trying to keep the original mood. Pierre had also found some rare pieces at the military supply, including an old medal and an SS officer’s coat. We couldn’t help bringing those in (some with some vintage Lippy vinyl and others with the Step In Time pants) and even getting a bit … gasp … naughtily fetish.

One disclaimer I feel I should mention: Having Mentioned the SS coat Pierre found at his military store … Ordinarily, I would never (and I mean NEVER) incoporate anything even suggesting Nazi era imagery into any work I do. However, being as this set is an homage to a film which depicts the story of a Nazi SS officer and his prisoner, we all felt it was not inappropriate to include the coat in the photos. If the image is disturbing to anyone, I sincerely apoligize. No offense is intended.

Also, please don’t fret for the lovely Forest. We have gallons of Zesty Mint stage blood on hand so no actual pokey-pokey with pins and NO ASTROLOGERS WERE HARMED IN THE SHOOTING OF THIS PHOTO SET!

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Photo credits:
Models: Forest Nui Cobalt, Pierre Ordinaire
Photography/Post/Make-up: Mich Masoch – CHS Regime
Special thanks for wardrobe: Lip Service
Lighting (and overall good-sportedness): Jimi King – CHS Regime

Do you have a particular character, movie, or maybe graphic novel you’ve brought to life with Lip Service gear? We’d love to see it! Send your photo goodies to the editor or submit through the webzine.

Happy spooky, Lippy Halloween to all you fabulously naughty Fashion Freaks! I’ll be back with the usual brand of silly sinfulness next month … straight from the World Air Sex Championships as they make their way here to Los Angeles!

Get ready, fellow degenerates, I’m about to do something I never thought possible.

I must talk of my distaste of a story celebrating hedonism. Yeah, I know. But, in my defense, hedonism is merely the attractive hook, designed to get me, you, and everyone else to accept an otherwise heinous thing.

Every so often, a bit of detritus from the mainstream sad excuse for art and culture sneaks into my fortress of mediocrity avoidance. A nasty little nugget of lowest common denominator gathers too much praise and adulation to ignore. Otherwise sensible people gush about the grotesque, cleverly hidden beneath a shiny, glossy shell of self-help PR and puffery.

Generally, messages selling the route to self-fulfillment should always be scrutinized. Often, they are about nothing more than fulfillment of the author and publisher’s bank accounts, which, so long as they’re not detrimental to the adherents, can be set aside in the Buyer Beware category and looked at as a bit sad but benign.

But what if the core message is a malignant one, lurking beneath the smiley platitudes? What if it’s a message which encourages selfish and inconsiderate behavior, self-indugence as piety, consumption as cure, vacuous shortcuts to depth, superficial navel-gazing over honest, often painful introspection? Then, would you not think the message being espoused is a potentially dangerous thing?

I have recently been confronted by such a thing … and I’ll admit, it annoys me too much to just ignore it.

That thing is “Eat, Pray, Love”.

You see, there are other vices lurking beneath the shiny, hedonistic surface, nasty vices which must be dragged out into the light of day and exposed. Once we poke even ever-so-gently beneath the outer candy coating, the story behind “Eat, Pray, Love” grows darker and more sinister.

Where shall I begin? There is so much to work with here!

In the effort to keep it all nice and organized, I’ll use one of my very favorite gauges, the Seven Deadly Sins, to sum up the gag-inducing nastiness that is “Eat, Pray, Love”.

Anger:

One can argue that Liz Gilbert’s so-called voyage of self-discovery is one of light and all things good and yummy. I must disagree. If she was so overcome with happy-joy-joy fulfillment objectives, why the need to dredge out her marital dirty laundry for entertainment value (also known as fun and profit)? She could have spared her unceremoniously abandoned ex the embarrassment of having their relationship woes spelled out in no uncertain terms. Apparently, Ms. Liz had a not-so-warm-and-fuzzy axe to grind, perhaps? A little not-to-be-spoken-of at Oprah dish-sessions and bright shiny pep talk book and movie promotions bit of ragey-ragey, perhaps? The end result speaks for itself. Hell, I had plenty of legitimate beefs about life with my ex (also affectionately known as Satan), but you won’t see me dishing about him in print. Bitterness is not a path to enlightenment I’ve ever heard of … but maybe that’s just me.

Envy:

It is not uncommon for well-off, uninspired vanilla folks from the McMansion set to feel their spiritual and cultural lives are somehow less-than compared to the humble people darker than melba toast on the other side of the globe. (People, I might mention, who often are economically victimized by the very same sorts of people in trade and corporate greedhead culture … though that’s another vice for another day.) Ms. Liz envied the humble brown people their simplicity, their heart-felt spirituality, their self-awareness (much like shoppers of Anthropologie – catalog front shown- envy them their “native” look). So much so, she felt compelled to co-opt them for herself, taking their real beliefs for her self-help juggernaut to be that shining image for other uninspired vanilla folk to envy.

There is also a very unattractive envy of the storied mid-life crisis at play here. I see, among most apologists for “Eat, Pray, Love”, a palpable sentiment of, “If men can have a mid-life crisis, so can we!” So dedicated to this notion are they, the thought never seeps in that, should a man have lived this story, they’d be throwing rocks instead of kisses at the author.

Gluttony:

Well, duh. That’s like shooting fish in a barrel. I’ll save the words for more interesting targets.

Greed:

Now we’re talking! I mentioned the Ms. Liz juggernaut just above. The fans of Liz might be outraged a bit at this, but I think they’d be starting on a path toward what can lead to inconvenient truths. It is not discussed in the movie, but guess how Liz Gilbert funded the trip which “inspired” the book? Right you are, my clever sinners, according to several articles readily available online, Liz Gilbert paid for the trip with the advance for the book! This is, of course, a rather pretty pass in the mythology of her journey of self-discovery. If we know she had already gotten the advance, we know she couldn’t very well have returned from her tri-nation romp without some gems of self-awareness to share, don’t we? It makes the whole exercise ring a bit hollow, doesn’t it, a self-awareness conveniently appearing on cue and in time for a deadline? Also makes the author feel a bit greedy to me, cashing in, as well as priming the cash pump in advance, on the “recovery” from a relationship she abandoned.

Lust:

Also, much too easy. Beside, lust is generally a fine and noble thing I endorse whole-heartedly!

Pride:

Not only is there a bit of an annoying, “Look at me! I’m such a good person!” in “Eat, Pray, Love” and its self-congratulation of Liz Gilbert’s success in becoming a happy person by the *ahem* oh-so-road-less-traveled route of going to beautiful and exotic places to relax, eat lots of food, and fuck. Wow! What an arduous time that must have been and how wonderful for her to have managed to find her happy place through massive amounts of self-indulgence! There is also the self-absorbed navel-gazing which inevitably goes hand-in-hand with this breed of memoir. Sure, at some points Liz Gilbert is actually aware of other people outside her bubble of self-satisfaction, sometimes even doing nice things for them. But, ultimately, it is all about Liz.

Sloth:

This is the one which irks me most of all, the thing which really made me want to dedicate a column to why we should not be celebrating this brand of hedonism and recognizing it for the bad-penny vice it is. There is none of the real hard work in coming to the journey, much less the happy ending. Let’s call it what it is: Laziness across the board. Liz Gilbert wanted a lush, lazy vacay in exotic places. She wanted self-awareness without all the icky gut-wrenching work. She wanted spirituality without actually having to commit mind and spirit, instead just racing off to the lazy-(wo)man’s shortcut to it … find nice brown people to meditate with. Hell, even her voyage plan is intellectually lazy and suffers a lack of effort toward creative vision.

I know many people will tag me as bitter because I have expended time and effort to be critical of Liz Gilbert’s supposed masterpiece. But, you know what? It’s worth it to me if just one person is able to avoid this ugly paean of self-congratulation and discover a better, more helpful book or moving, intelligent film instead.

False virtue is a vice I just can’t get behind.

There’s something about summer, the anticipation of the rising temperatures, which makes the sin funk in Los Angeles all the more fabulously ripe. This month, we’ve got a hugely exciting event coming up, which I really must blather about like a giddy schoolgirl before moving along.

You see, two of the hottest women in the alt and fetish scene have a new space! Miss Crash and Jane Jett (whose on-stage contributions to the recent Jane’s Addiction show at the Roxy you might have recently read about in Rolling Stone or LA Weekly) are opening a brand spanking new creative hub, Studio Servitu`, inspired by Domina’s well-respected Dungeon Servitude in San Diego. We just had a chance to visit the space in progress and, I must say, it is super badass! The Boss and I are already champing at the bit to shoot there. What can you say about a place which will have a giant (and I mean fucking GIANT) cross hanging right in the middle of two of the several partitioned shooting spaces? You say, “It’s frick’n awesome!” that’s what.

But this is not the most exciting thing about the Servitu` opening. Not by a long shot!

They will be kicking off with a fantastic party, VIP invitation only, with nothing but the hottest and most important industry folks in attendance. It will be such an exclusive party, chock full of gorgeous naughtiness, absolutely no photos or filming will be allowed. The party will take place on August 21st so, if you’re not seeing the usual level of sexy out in LA that night, you know where the sexy is and what it’s up to … downtown in a not-to-be-disclosed location having a night of debauchery and sin.

I might give you all unable to be there a few juicy details afterward (if you’re very nice) but, seriously, if you’re in or around Los Angeles, this is the one invitation you really want to get this summer.

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We started our Summer of Sin with a little trip to Exxxotica Expo. If you can imagine a convention hall filled with booths about your favorite sins and sinners with various bits of stripper-licious eye-candy spotted between, quite literally about every few yards, you’ve probably also been to Exxxotica. Being a girl and all, I was curious about what these sorts of fan conventions are all about and, as luck would have it, the nice folks at Exxxotica were happy to provide me with a press pass so we naughty kids from the CHS Regime could explore and share.

At its most obvious, Exxxotica Expo is precisely what you’d imagine. There are booths with various strata of pin-up, fetish, alt, and porn models and actresses, the more famous hemmed in by fans very excited to meet their favorite stars. What kind of surprised me, in a pleasant sort of way, was the way they incorporated lots of fledgling local models into the scene. You honestly couldn’t walk but a few yards before seeing more sexy girls in the Expo’s colors (black and hot pink).

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Now, this was not just hot women hanging about in lingerie. Exxxotica had thought of every possible way to seduce the eye with sexy candy. There were girls on giant swings, girls on poles (of course), girls in jump houses (complete with padded battle-sticks), girls on beds, even girls on a teeter-totter. Our favorite had to be the “mechanical penis”, a bull-riding machine made to look like a big ol’ pink member. Fucking priceless! I wasn’t bullshitting about the variety. It was seriously impressive. And the scene was not just varied. The girls ranged from athletic to curvaceous, pale to dark, petite to amazonian. It was an utter feast for the eye looking for beautiful women of every and any sort.

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Then there were the big draws to Exxxotica. The most popular we could see was the sensational Belladonna. There was never a moment in all the time we were in the house that there was not a mob scene at her fantastically unique and clever booth. She had built a bath scene, tiled and all with great seedy fluorescent lighting, with strategic peepholes cut in all over the outside. This way, folks could see what was going on, even while they were in line. For her part, Belladonna was her gracious and gorgeous self, shooting lots of photos with fans and chatting away with everyone. I don’t think anybody left feeling they didn’t get a really wonderful moment to meet her, even with the length of the waits.

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Our favorite of the big booths had to be Clips 4 Sale. Unlike most of the booths, which just had stars sitting about signing and shooting photos, the folks at Clips 4 Sale kept an ongoing flurry of fun and silly/sexy activity going. While we were there, they had enlisted a blushing woman from the crowd to come up and try out a riding vibrator while being teased by Miss Crash and Audrey Fires. Then, once she was all blushes and giggles, they enlisted another game partcipant to run through a demonstration of as many fetishes listed on the site as possible. This guy started … started … with getting flogged in the sac. Yeah. Then he was whipped a bit more by Miss Crash, rode around the floor by Audrey, enlisted in a bit of foot worship before … well, I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.

That was a great part of Exxxotica, by the way. Without nudity, sex, nothing over-the-top (well, okay the riding schlong was a bit over), it was a day of good dirty fun that was almost kind of clean. It was sexy in a fun, rollicking way. I had expected more of the weird quiet silent stare like atmosphere of a strip club. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It was, if nothing else, like a carnival of good clean sexiness.

Also in attendance were a bevvy of starlets from Vivid, set up in a massive booth with big, juicy giant posters of each girl behind her. We had a chance to meet Tanya Tate, a beautiful blonde from the UK, and spend a moment talking about the industry before moving along to the smaller providers on hand. Burning Angel was also on hand, with Joanna Angel and Dana DeArmond at the booth meeting fans.

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We also got to say hello to legend Nina Hartley while she was being interviewed. She is, I must say, pure awesome and looking hot as ever!

Then, there were some interesting booths outside the photos/video realm. Our favorite had to be the oil-based slip-n-slide like contraption. Sadly, it was rather underused in our time there. There were also naughty candies and lollipops, shaped like … well, do I really need to say? It’s pretty obvious. So, yeah, we walked about all day watching women go down on candies. It was pretty funny, really.

The thing which was the most surprising, again in a pleasant way, was the number of women on hand with their boyfriends and husbands. It’s cool to see more and more of us comfortable with naughty stuff. One woman was shooting photos of her man snuggling with Belladonna, beaming with smiles. I was so proud of womankind.

From the powerful woman stars of the industry, to the women running their own studios, to the women strong and confident enough to come out and play in their playground … We’ve, indeed, come a long way. Good show, ladies!

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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!

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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!

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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?