If you’re planning on tuning in to Derek and Romaine tonight for the porn reviews, my time just got changed to 6:15 PST. Also, I just heard from the Thrillhammer people and the Museum of Sex in New York is staying open late for the demonstration (and hiring extra security). So if you’re in NY next week, go watch and then tell me what it was like in person!

I’m not sure which kept me awake more last night — the fact that I’m on the Derek and Romaine show tonight reviewing porn (5:15 PST), or the fact that I got to test drive The Thrillhammer for an hour in prep for my Dorkbot SF presentation June 1. Either way, I woke up to discover that I’d been sexblo.gs’d and slashdong’d. Yay!

Now here’s where I show my true geek colors — for me, testing the machines and connections is always the really fun part. Last night I wasn’t actually having sex with anyone in New York (though I got a few emails because the rumors were flying about what, exactly, I was testing). But I was thrilled to be sitting in my San Francisco office on the phone with the inventor in Seattle, and operating the machine via my laptop — able to see through ond operate the webcams planted in the Museum of Sex in New York (warning: overdone Flash site, groan). Granted, the museum was closed so it was a bit dark (the museum lights were off), but working the bizarre, Geiger-esque gyno-sex-throne was a lot of fun. I ran it through several sequences, could see it vibrate, rotate and played with the cameras… it sure will be different when there’s a real live girl sitting in the machine!

I haven’t done an official announcement about it yet on my site because I’m not sure who our girl will be yet (I’m not doing the hiring), and I’ll want to put her URLs and stuff in the promo info. I think the museum might make an event out of it in New York; it will likely be after hours in the museum, and well, it’s sex. I think it will be very strange to have sex with a girl I don’t know (especially in front of a lot of people)! I’m also going to try and arrange a demo with The Sinulator. It should be a lot of fun.

But for now, check out my newest podcast, which I did yesterday morning live in Dolores Park here in San Francisco — Open Source Sex 12 (MP3). And if you’re around later, tune in to the Derek and Romaine show tonight on Sirius (also free on the web with registration). Right now, I need to go watch a few porn videos that I want to talk about tonight.

Isn’t that Paul Sarkis photo hot? Rachel’s boob looks so yummy. Read her deliciously dirty and rather excellent) article on sex and food, Eating for Arousal.

* A lot of readers wrote in about the last post wanting to know what was going to happen. A cease and desist from the text’s original authors was being discussed when the blog printed an apology and gave proper credit. Again, no permalinks so I can’t link to the retraction post, but the blogger did take a few amusing sideways swipes at me and continues to do so in subsequent posts. One person wrote, “You fired a shot across his bow and he came about quickly enough. He is trying to make it sound like he was in a hurry, didn’t mean to do it, etc. I doubt that story. I think he never expected to get caught. I spend a lot of time every week re-writing news stories for a censorship update bulletin. Following fair use doctrine, I use quotes and facts freely from news stories but I never use someone’s clever words without attribution. It is not the sort of thing one accidentally does. Thanks again.”

At minumium, I read 65 sex news blogs a day as Assistant Editor at Fleshbot, several times a day — and that’s not counting the (over) 150 I skim twice a week for the Sex Blog Roundup. One of the main components of my new day job is to track links to sex stories and unusual sex items throughout the day (and night, as I am an insomniac). I watch the breadcrumb trails as links get picked up by different sites. I see who gets the links first, where they come from, and who gives credit where credit is due.

Today, I visited a site in my regular rotation. A post said, “Introducing Roy Stuart.” (sorry, no permalinks but post is screencapped on right) Not new news, but I love Stuart’s work so I can appreciate the idea, and so I read on. The text seemed very, very familiar. It was an eerie feeling. I wondered if maybe I had written this text before, as I have written about Stuart’s work many times over the past 5+ years for Good Vibes and my own site.

On a whim, I Googled a few sentences at the bottom of the post. For some strange reason I’ve never thought to Google multiple sentences, but imagine my surprise when the search yielded pay dirt in the form of the decsription on Taschen’s site. Okay, but why was the rest so familiar, I thought?

I grabbed an entire paragraph from the top, and came up with the source for the contents of almost the entire post (save for the paragraph from Taschen): an article reviewing Roy Stuart’s book Roy Stuart II by Layne Winklebleck, on Spectator. Not my writing, but someone else’s (someone whose writing I’ve read quite often) — and not the owner of the porn gossip blog, either, though you’d never know.

There’s a word for this folks… brilliant! Now pass the crack pipe.

Eleven pm on a rainy wednesday night, and it finally got to me: reading everyone else’s blogs to cull tomorrow’s Sex Blog Roundup made me want to make a post. However, my thoughts are all random, I haven’t had an orgasm in a few days (!), so I am unfocused as ever. I know, it’s just bad for anyone’s mental, physical and emotional health not to have at least had a wet dream. (Mmmm, my last wet dream: Rachel Kramer Bussel and a can of frosting…) But I’m seriously stressed and feeling overworked. Makes me want to do crazy things; I’m helping at a friend’s wedding this weekend and I keep having fantasies of eating the entire wedding cake without my hands, on the lawn on my hands and knees, when no one’s around. Weddings are strange and they make me feel strange. I don’t know a living person related to me by blood, so I totally understand how to make family out of thin air and wishes and trust, but family gathering things make me feel like a ghost. At least it’s an SRL wedding and lots of my “real” family will be there.

It’s mostly Best Women’s Erotica that’s stressing me; the manuscript is due June 1. Of course, I’m doing a big speaking gig on the same day — a presentation on Teledildonics (with live demonstration) for Dorkbot SF. But it’s the book that’s making me crazy. This may sound odd, but my dilemma is that I have about 25 final selections of really, really incredible, nasty, wicked, sublime erotica from women all over the world — and I need to cut it down to around 20. I keep thinking I need to walk away and come back, I have printouts arranged all over my floor (the cat rolls in them, sigh), I have excel spreadsheets with all the important features of each story (double penetration, gang-bang, exhibitionism, hardcore romance, bisexual hijinks, uniforms, goth girls menacing frat boys, older man office sex…). I want to petition my publisher to make the book longer, but I know they’ll make me make the hard (heh) decisions.

But overall, what’s been so interesting for me has been observing the common themes among the (hundreds of) submissions. For instance, I got an overwhelming amount of erotica whose central themes were sex with clergy (priests), and soldier/officer/wartime erotica. Almost all of them had sad or negative twists or endings. I got a lot of breakup erotica. I got erotica from men trying to pretend they were female writers (never underestimate an editor whose web search skills are worthy of a job at Fleshbot). I think the worst faker was one I read whose tip off was classic bad-porn metaphors for female body parts, such as “my perfect jugs” for breasts and “my greasy flaps” for labia. I am so not making this up. Flaps. Greasy. Amazing.

Well, I hope I make it to Dorkbot; in the meantime I’m also going to be on the Derek and Romaine show (Sirius) again on the 25th reviewing porn, and right now I’m quoted extensively in a very interesting Wired News article by former Reverse Cowgirl Susannah Breslin, Porn Valley Goes Blogging — read it, it’s got a lot of food for thought. I survived the Writers With Drinks, but only with support from two hot horn players and two cute boys I met that night: Diary of a Sex Addict and Stephen Elliott. One of my very favorite things is when I meet bloggers in person, and meeting both of them really made my night. And fuck, I’ve never been so nervous reading anything in my life: I was glad to find out afterward that no one could see my legs shaking! I read something I wrote, which I seldom do — I like to read other people’s writing that I *know* is good; a convenient foil for a girl who likes to dress sexy but hide near the snack table at parties. A girl who then leisurely takes the time to sniff her own panties when there’s a line for the bathroom.

BoingBoing’s *other* simmering sexpot David Pescovitz pointed me at a post he made today about the NY Times article re: the crazy lady who wrote a book about female orgasm: Secret purpose of the female orgasm

My reply: > Oooh! She’s way off. Male nipples *totally* serve a purpose. ;)

> This part is sad: “Since so few women do…”
> Worse, she seems to think that fun is not linked to evolution (how
else would the cannabis plant have evolved?) and she seems to be
operating on that tired old “default sex” theory in embryonic
development. Quelle dinosaur. This is the attitude that since embryos
start out female until they get the “it’s a boy” chemical cocktails,
that female is the “default” sex, that the clitoris is some sort of
inferior vestigal penis. Default, like what you’re stuck with until
you change your settings. Hardly. We are clearly the superior machine.
We do not have an erectile tissue shutoff valve, allowing us to get as
many hard-ons, and have as many orgasms, as we can handle. Seems like
a prime evolutionary tool to me…

> I’m also guessing (wildly!) that she excluded lesbian sexual contact
and intersex people from her data. I’d like to take her to task. Fuzzy handcuffs not included. Thank you for sending me this…

So I’m calling “shennanigans!” on Dr. Elizabeth A. Lloyd. I wonder, did she study women who *don’t* come from clitoral stimulation, and did she explore the female anal orgasm? What about these women, are they evolutionary retards, left for the wolves of natural selection? Of course, I’m thinking of Chloe. Were sexually empowered women in her study, or women who have discovered radically hot sex after childbirth? Of course the female orgasm “is for fun.” But suggesting this, in this context, is like saying female orgasms are frivolous, like all “female” things. And that our sexual nerve pathways are just penile sloppy seconds.

So here’s my theory for the good doctor: You better fucking believe the female orgasm is evolutionarily necessary. Because if we have sex and I don’t have one, I’ll kill you.

Things almost as yummy and good as the wine I’m drinking right now: David Lynch daily weather report, cool dolls I found for my day job today, Tentacle Eye, tie me up with this, DIY sex doll with towels and porn (agh! I hope I go blind!), welcome back Daze, Cult of Mac nominated me as their poster girl, Cuddlefish: rollergirl obsessed, hey — I have a Honda motorcycle and a gun, too!

Holy crap. I just opened an envelope containing six book contracts. I’m going to go get more wine.

This event is on the main page, but in case you’re the kind of person that likes to fast-forward to the good parts, sniff their own panties and just go straight for the blog, here’s the really cool thing I’m doing this Saturday night:

This weekend if you’re in San Francisco, put this on your naughty to-do list: On Saturday I’m reading in a benefit for Other Magazine, “Writers With Drinks.” I think it’s going to be a hell of a show, especially since it’s brought to us by the naughty girl who masterminded the ballerina pie fight. The lineup includes: “fancy East Coast writer Alicia Erian, author of Towelhead; Tad Williams, author of Shadowmarch and The War of the Flowers; Ken Goffman (RU Sirius — WTF is up with his out of date website?), the former Mondo 2000 ringleader; Liz Henry (Cuts From The Barbershop, Slut Utopia); comic Bill Santiago,” and me! So if you’re in town, come to The Make Out Room, 3225 22nd. St. between Mission and Valencia (San Francisco). Admission is $3 to $5 sliding scale, Saturday, May 14, 2005, 7:30 to 9:30 PM, doors open at 7:00 PM.

I’m the first reader up, which is actually my preference; I request to be first whenever I read because then I don’t spend the whole night nervous and twitchy, not able to relax and enjoy the other readers. Plus, then I can drink more. Other magazine is really, really fucking cool and I’m totally flattered they asked me to read for this fund-raiser. I’m gleefully compelled to support indy publishing and genderfuck every chance I get!

Random: I *heart* Landscapes With A Corpse (photo)

This has to be one of the best openers to an email I’ve ever gotten, but since it’s from a highly visible someone who works in the porn biz I won’t out them, but (w00t) here it is:

“Yay Violet Blue! I was overwhelmingly relieved when I found out tinynibbles was not written by your Klan Rally namestealer.”

A marriage proposal is tempting, but cult-like adoration will have to suffice. You see, their email was well-timed; it came right after I opened a submission email for Best Women’s Erotica ‘06, a letter where the author started by complimenting me on being a porn performer, I think in hopes of making it in the book. Actually, that works the opposite way. Confusing me with the racist porn performer who started using my name well after I had been published in many places shows me that you do not take a minute to read the intros on my main and blog pages, that you don’t look at my photos, and that you’re basically not paying attention. I wonder, do you work for AVN?

Still, it bums me out to be reminded of the fact that a search for my name yields things like “see teen Violet Blue get gangbanged” and is associated with someone who says in interviews they think the US should “kill the whole Middle East.” Not funny.

So the email from the porn valley writer tickled me to no end, and showed me that someone is paying attention after all. Then, tonight I went to Aaron Hawks’ “Locus in Quo” opening at the Shooting Gallery (where I took these lovely pictures of the performance), and afterward I had a cocktail with my friend Erika Bellas. She told me about her very irritating problem: when she searches her name, she gets a few relevant hits, but also gets “Ericka Bella’s Gang Bang.” This really sucks for her, especially when she goes job hunting and and potential employers Google her name. But what a relief to hear someone with a similar problem — and a friend, no less! Bizarrely, she told me that sometimes Violet Blue and Ericka Bella’s (porn sex act) come up together. Coincidence? Strange but true.

Meanwhile, I’m a bit absent lately: I have the first manuscript for Best Women’s Erotica ‘06 due June 1, an eassay for Russ Kick’s Everything You Know About Sex is Wrong due on the 15th, a reading Saturday, a lecture to students Sunday, a Dorkbot presentation on Teledildonics June 1 (with live demonstration; details soon), and my day job at Fleshbot all keeping me really, really busy. Happy busy.

w00t! I just got back from a meeting with my publisher, where I found out that both of my oral sex books — The Ultimate Guide to Fellatio and The Ultimate Guide to Cunnilingus — are going to be translated into Russian this year! So now English, Spanish and French… Engrish is next!

I’m now ready to admit that I have a fetish for cartoon mashups, especially if they’re superheroes. I’m addicted to Robot Chicken. I pre-ordered the Harvey Birdman season 1 DVD — and had a marathon when it arrived, permanently scarring my nostrils from all the beer that accidently shot through each time Peanut or Avenger appeared onscreen. (Seriously: do not eat or drink while watching.) Hornboy has a complete Harvey Birdman costume, and I have a skin-tight vinyl Batgirl outfit, complete with cape… But they’re totally for Halloween, and stuff. Really.

With that, I have to share the most fabulous He-Man video, ever, guaranteed to make your nostrils into beverage launchers:

“Fabulous Secret Powers”

Other things that feel good to rub on: Post Label Against Bush (thanks Mike!), Ray Ceaser, Absolutely Del.icio.us - Complete Tool Collection, Eros.Coloribus, Evil Signtist: Evil Sign Post (YaY Hornboy!)

This has to be one of the more fascinating and bizarre set of photos of strangers interacting with… an even stranger sex toy: a sex doll centaur. They sure seem to be having a lot of fun with the weird dolls and dolly parts, but seems to me that after an hour, or ten minutes, those dolls *must* be the best place to catch mono. Or hepatitis. Or something. Hoof and mouth disease? But, but — I have so many questions! What does one do with a big female centaur sex doll? What’s under her tail? Can you autoclave it after all those people have left their germs on it? Does she come with a feedbag and lube? And what’s up with that giant icky boobie — is it the centaur’s weapon? Are there two connected by a chain so she can swing them at her foes while she utters a fearsome war cry? And why was Sean Connery there?

For those of you who just can’t get enough of us smarty-pants sexy evil grease monkies and scary-smart nerds in SRL and all the other weird-cool stuff we do in our spare time, now you can subscribe to our SRL RSS feed of upcoming events and stuff we’re into.

http://feeds.feedburner.com/survivalresearchlabs

Update: for the hardcores, who don’t care what we do when we’re in our Clark Kent daily personas — the “official” SRL RSS feed (Pretty much only gets updated around showtimes and “official” SRL appearances — or you can just check the front page of our site!): http://feeds.feedburner.com/srl

Cool RSS reader for those of you who use mozilla/firefox (the *best* browswer for porn):

http://inforss.mozdev.org/

Scrolls the headlines across the bottom of your browser (thanks Karen!).

I was at the gym, running my mile on the treadmill, when it came on CNN: Anderson Cooper, split screen with undulating, gyrating bouncy-boobed cheerleaders, and the words came out of his mouth, “Cheerleading… sexual routines…” THUMP! I landed red-faced in a heap at the end of my still-scrolling treadmill.

Well, I didn’t really fall, but I had to be very *very* careful not to. First Anderson Cooper and spanking, and now this. I kept running, trying to keep up with the “news” story he was reporting, but was almost on the verge of a true hysterical paroxysm with Cooper and cheerleaders in the same sentence in my head in endless repeat, the mental drool making any other thoughts whatsover, impossible. But my torture continued, mercilessly — yes, Anderson, yes! Don’t stop. I don’t really care what you say, in fact I probably don’t agree with most of it, but just keep talking about dirty dancing cheerleaders and let my brain and my pumping thighs do the rest. All us nerdy sex girls think you’re hot, Cooper, and we’ve got all kinds of fantasies that involve spanking, your tie collection, those suits, and now, cheerleader uniforms. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

It wasn’t just the Cooper and pom-pom imagery that sent my brain into a tailspin, it was what was being said about the legislation to ban sexy cheerleading routines that had the nice gay men at my gym watching my face more than CNN while they pumped up their porn star/Muscle Mary washboards. We posted the story about the cheerleading ban that passed in the Texas House of Representatives this morning on Fleshbot, but thanks to Hotpants Cooper, I got an earful from Rep. Al Edwards (D-Houston) about how this type of “dirty dancing” spreads teenage pregnancy, is responsible for STD transmission rates, and how the children need to be protected. (Cooper agreed on that last point; that gets you a spanking with my baton, and my poms in your mouth, bitch.) Has the world really gone insane, or just all branches of government? But what made me actually throw my arms up in a sis-boom-ba cheer in the middle of the treadmill rows was the inclusion of needing to clean up marching bands as well.

Everyone knows how degrading, sick and downright dirty marching bands are. Full disclosure: I have wild and evil monkey sex with a man in the Extra Action Marching Band, I do very nasty things with other band members and publicly make out on a regular basis with female band members and band member girlfriends. The things I do for fun with these men, women and transfolk would definitely be considered immoral, a threat to decent society, evil, acts against god and surely degrading to anyone within earshot. And the cheerleaders, male and female are FILTHY. If Mr. Rep. Al Edwards (D-Houston) saw them, his head would explode like the aliens in the conclusion of Mars Attacks!, when they play Slim Whitman and their alien heads pop like little grapes. More disclosure: I own three cheerleading uniforms, and none of them fit properly according to cheerleading regulation. Hear that, Cooper? Or are my matching uniform panties too tight on your sexy head?

So I think it’s time for Extra Action to tour Texas.

So, it seems from the email I’ve been getting lately, that I’ve been on TV. It’s a very strange, sort of floating outside yourself feeling to find out that lots of people have seen the Playboy TV segment I did on oral sex instruction, and not to even have seen it myself. The mail is good, so I guess it turned out okay, at least I hope so. But I’d really like to see how it turned out, and it would have been nice to be able to tell people when it was, or will be, on. I’m not shocked or anything; this is how this stuff works. I do interviews, then if I find out if, when or where the magazine issue is, or the air date, it’s only because someone was really nice and went out of their way to tell me, like the wonderful Martin Downs (who also has a quirky, sexy short story here).

A quick search, and I found out that it’s Sexcetera’s episode #60. They don’t even link to guests’ websites, how chintzy (they told me they would). Then… aha! The calendar tells me it aired in… April, then yesterday, then today at 5pm EST. Huh. Well, if you missed it like I did, you can always check out my wacked experience during the filming, and the photos here.

I’ve been a little sidetracked while I work on Best Women’s Erotica 2006, and guest editing at Fleshbot… though mostly the book deadline has me overwhelmed. I did get a chance to go to a LGBT erotic literati party on saturday, where I knew few and drank much. Actually, I think I knew more people there than I perceived; when Mattilda and Simon Sheppard started introducing me around, I realized that I already knew (and am a fan of) Ian Phillips and Greg Wharton, and Jim Van Buskirk.

What I didn’t expect, and was giddy as a schoolgirl to hear, were tales of illicit Craigslist encounters. Some of the stories I heard were just too incredible to be true, but they were, and some even played themselves out like a movie. Like the story about the skater boy twink that had never been with a man before, and after a bottle of Jack got the courage up to troll Craigslist and meet (the storyteller) at 2am on the corner of 23rd and Valencia. He took the storyteller home, tiptoeing past his sleeping roomates. And though normally a top, the storyteller got on bended knee and had his face vigorously fucked. “You know that point you get, where it just hurts and you know the mouth wasn’t meant to take that kind of pounding?” Yes, I do! “Well, I’d think, enough — but then I’d look up at this 19-year-old pounding away, and drooling and gagging I’d think, wow, is this really happening to me? But jesus, I could really *tell* he’d never sucked a cock before.” I knew exactly what he meant. All too many times I’ve given a blowjob and wished that the guy was a better receiver, and you know, I’m really starting to think there’s really only one good way for a guy to learn how to *get* a good blowjob, and you know, what’s good for the goose and all that.

But no blowjobs for me last weekend (sigh). Actually, I’m not complaining because I worked on perfecting one of my other favorite activities: the handjob. Ah, an ode to handjobs. My hands become like these heat-seeking missles, roaming all over the crotch of his jeans, squeezing and kneading and then finally getting inside. Unwrapping the erection from the boxers is always an exquisite moment, the heat radiates from his cock in waves. I love to run my hands all over him dry, squeezing at the base, stroking beneath the tip with the flat of my thumb. Then I drown him in lube, making a wet, slurpy-sounding, sloppy mess that I rub everywhere, even his balls. I’ve been experimenting with different lubes for different handjob styles; you can buy these dry-feeling cream lubes that create a little drag, heat and friction on his cock (Eros Power Cream), or my favorite standby, really runny silicone lube that acts like oil but cleans up with soap and water (Eros Pur; doesn’t break latex). Now all I need is a female research assistant, though I doubt Craigslist has the lab bunny I’m looking for.

Bits and pieces: I’m fascinated and repulsed and filled with dread and loathing by Scientology; when I found out Beck was a glassy-eyed cult follower I deleted all his music from my iPod and iTunes. I just couldn’t listen to it anymore, to me he was no longer “everyman of the slackers” but a privleged Hollywood brat and his music lost all meaning. So it was with great glee I read the hard-hitting, revealing interview with Tom Cruise at Spiegel, where the interviewer challenges Cruise on his Scientology bullshit, we see his religious fervor — and most frightening of all, Spielberg openly admits that he made War of the Worlds to exploit viewers’ 9/11 fear and horror, which has to be one of the most socially irresponsible things I’ve ever heard of. Hollywood jackass. Soul-sucking jerk.

I’m finishing the sex robot AI — hopefully I can beta test her on you next week.

New crushes: Mark Pritchard, Blackvertising (picture above), Kama: Devadasi Escort, Sexblo.gs: Shame on Cyber Perverts. Constant crush: Xeni (who I can personally assure you is *all* girl).