Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Cockage Ringage!

Cock rings are scary. I never even knew these things existed before I worked at the porn shop. The one in the picture is an extreme form of one. It has a damned loop so a leash can be attached. Why? I guess so you can be lead around by your junk. Which is what I call “being in a relationship.” Hi-yo!

Wikipedia describes cock rings as “a cock ring, or cockring, is a ring that is placed around a man's penis, usually at the base, primarily to slow the flow of blood from the erect penile tissue, thus maintaining erection for a much longer period of time.

Urbandictionary describes it as a “…tool used for males whose penises cannot stay hard long enough to get their girlfriend to have an orgasm.

They have all kinds of these things! Some are super thick metal. If they get stuck I think you’d need the jaws of life to remove it. I have dropped one on the glass counter and was shocked it didn’t shatter. There are also some that are jelly. Jelly meaning they feel like Wacky Wall Walkers. Who wouldn’t want one of these on their dick?!

One time someone tried one on in front of me. Dead serious. Here is how it all went down. First, I have to describe what this guy looked like. About 5’3”. Furry ass beard. Middle Eastern accent. And smelling of ass and cloves. Got it? Good.

Him: “Can I see the cock ring?”

Me: “Uh-huh.”

Him: “Any smaller?”

Me: “Uh…sure…” (hands over cock ring the size of quarter)

Him: “Thank you.” (quickly whips out penis and slides on cock ring)

Me: “Um…no.”

Him: “Huh?”

Me: “You just bought that!”

He bought it and then I kicked him out the store. He had the nerve to act confused as to why he was getting kicked out. This mind you was after I had only been working there for a few weeks and it wasn’t even 7am yet!

Monday, June 27, 2011

Porn Tales 2

The porn shop always had issues. Besides the random power outage it was stricken with leaks. Oh my god the leaks! Once the ceiling in the backroom where we put tapes and DVD’s together started leaking. Know why? An angry tenant stuffed his toilet full of tissue paper and it flooded sending doo-doo water all over the place.

And then there was the flying Mexican. There was this one leak that kept on going on near the front counter. We would  put a bucket to gather it and it would be nice and brown. I kept on saying, “That shit is gonna cave in one day.” And boy did it ever!

I come back from my lunch break and this is what I hear from a co-worker.

Him: “The ceiling caved in.”

Me: “Really? Damn it. I missed it.”

Him: “Go look.”

Me: “I. Will.”

He had the understatement of the year! I went to the front counter and it was like a grenade went off. I step over the rubble and a female co-worker is sitting behind the counter. I’m staring at the hole and can actually see the light in the bathroom ceiling up there. A customer walks up and says the following to me and my co-worker.

Customer: “A guy fell through that.”

Me: “Whaaaa….?”

Her: “What?!”

Customer: “Yeah. He fell through, got up, and walked out.”

Her: “No.”

Customer: “Yeah. He left.”

Her: “I didn’t see anybody.”

Me: “That’s awesome!”

When my manager showed up we watched the footage that was recorded. Sure enough, a Mexican dude did indeed fall through the ceiling. This guy fell three stories, hit the lube rack, and jumped up and left to call his boss to tell him what happened. On the tape customers scrambled to the back of the store when it caved in and the co-worker was sitting on her fat ass reading magazines.

The ceiling was eventually patched up, we all had a good laugh, and everything was perfectly fine after that.

Until three days later when it started leaking again.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011


People pee on people. Not only do people pee on people but they enjoy it. Some even pay for it! Its called watersports and it scares me. I have asked friends how people get into this kinda stuff. Do you accidentally get pissed on and go “Hey, that’s not bad. Not bad at all…

Wikipedia describes it was “Those who enjoy urolagnia may enjoy urinating on another person or persons, or being urinated upon. Some participants may drink the urine; this practice is known as urophagia, though uraphagia refers to the consumption of urine regardless of whether the context is sexual. Urolagnia enthusiasts may participate in urolagnia as part of a domination and submission scene, though not all sexual activity involving urine is so.


Urbandictionary describes it as “When subject A urinates in the face of subject B. Not only does it cause a watery, glissening face, but also may spark memories of nostalgia of one of the subjects' childhood memories of swimming in the pool, playing games with dear old decrepid Granny.

Double nope!

Watersport films used to be illegal to buy or sell in California. Then one day all of a sudden it wasn’t and the porn shop was slammed with piss tapes with such creative titles as Piss Piss & More Piss, Golden Showered, Yellow Snow, Golden Rain, Young Twinks Beg For Piss. The titles became less creative over time.

These films were close to the definition of “If the cover is bad don’t turn it over and look at the back!” I had to learn this rule the hard way on multiple occasions. If a man is smiling on the cover as a stream of urine is coming towards his face its probably a good idea to just scan the video and stare at the ceiling.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

West Hollywood Walk of Shame 1

While working in the porn shop many celebrities would come in. Some F List actors and some very well known and popular ones. Some of them I would spot and ring up and go “Did that just happen?” This particular one hadn’t even crossed my mind until he made a recent comment online about someone that had recently passed away and I got upset. So for putting yourself on my radar, this is for you Roger Ebert.

Wikipedia describes swingers as “…a non-monogamous behavior, in which both partners in a committed relationship agree, as a couple, for both partners to engage in sexual activities with other couples as a recreational or social activity.” We sold plenty of swinger magazines. Newspaper printed and stapled shut, though that didn’t stop people from trying to actually read between the staples instead of spending the $2 to buy it.

One morning I was sitting at the counter reading a book (likely David Sedaris) when I hear someone slap a magazine on the counter. I look up and its fucking Roger Ebert, Yes, that Roger Ebert. This was pre-no jaw Ebert and I was kinda startled. Not because of who it was, but because of what he was buying.

A stack of swinger magazines!

My brain went through a range of emotions.


No way.



All I knew about him was that he was married to a big Black woman, hated movies I liked, and was way shorter than I thought he’d be. He didn’t say hello or anything. He just looked away while I rang him up. I mentioned him being there to a co-worker and they were like “He’s been coming in here for years.

Double ew.

Could you imagine the horror of answering a swing ad and get to the house and Roger fucking Ebert answered the door?

I give that cock two thumbs down!

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Joys Of WeHo Part 3

Meet the Leather Cowboy. This dude has been around the neighborhood for years. He’s been banned from the porn shop for stealing stuff and touching himself much like Captain Cucumber. He hangs out behind The Gold Coast or here, on Santa Monica and La Brea. This is his outfit when its cooler outside. Otherwise he wears his leather pants, leather coat, and leather hat with sunglasses. I’ve never heard him speak either. He looks like Isaac Hayes if he made bad life choices. He tends to tear the back of his jeans out which is so not the business because he don’t wear draws. His junk is on display for the world to see!

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Nasty Old Men

I think the closest I will ever feel to being a hot chick is when I worked at the porn shop. I got hit on. A lot. By men. As some of you may know, I’m not gay. Yes, I am serious. Don’t let the smooth taste feel you. But at the porn shop guys would hit on me or stare at me with bad intentions in their eyes.

Now, a certain type of man is attracted to me. In the real world, women who are older than me like me or ones that are younger. Rarely around my age. With guys its old White men. Old White men love me. They wanted a piece of The Chocolate Hammer and for the ones that came in there (pun so not intended) I was just this dark tease that sat at the counter ignoring them. There was nothing like placing magazines on the rack and feeling someone creeping up on you as you stood up.

Old men hit on you in a special way. These nasty bastards would creep up on me and just look for a while out the corner of their eye. I would sigh and try to disappear. It didn’t work. Here is almost verbatim a conversation I’ve had a while ago.

Them: “Hey.”

Me: “Yes?”

Them: “You new?”

Me: “No.”

Them: “What’s your name?”

Me: “Michael.”

Them: “Like Jordan?”

Me: (sigh)

Them: “When you get off?”

Me: (looks at clock that says 6:10am) “Way later.”

Them: “That’s too bad.”

Me: “No it isn’t.”

You have no idea how many old men I have kicked out the porn shop for touching themselves. Some old men are so old they don’t know that they’re dead. There was this one guy we used to call Lazarus. We called him that because he looked like he rose from the dead and always asked current issue related questions. One time we blew his mind.

Lazarus: “Who is the president?”

Me: “George Bush.”

He looked like he was going to fucking faint. I didn’t mention to him it was George W. Bush. I think he thought he had actually traveled back in time. At least he didn’t play with his withered old wang in the store. This other old man loved Puerto Rican men. Loved them. I wont say his first name here.

Johnson: “Y’all got that Rican’s Freaking? Rican ‘Struction? Big Dick Ricans? Rican’s Freaking 2?”

Old men definitely have a type. And I apparently was the type for men. Old Black men didn’t really like me. Why? I don’t know. Maybe I reminded the old White dudes of all the Black junk they couldn’t get back during the Civil Rights movement. Brings a whole new meaning to “We Shall Over Cum…”

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Joys Of Weho Part 2

There are a lot of strange ass people in this city. When I worked in the porn shop many of them would visit and get a nick name that fit their character. There was Red Riding Hood, Scabitha, The Gypsies, Overring, Crazy White Guy, and The Model.

But none of them compare to Captain Cucumber. (click image to “enlarge”)

I have been seeing this guy on my street for over a decade now. He never talks to anyone. He never buys anything. He never does not not have a massive dick. There’s no other way to put it. His dick is the size of a beer can. Strangely enough, its never hard. Its just this…blob that sits in his biker shorts. How can I know so much about another man’s penis? Because I have had to see it for years!

You cant not look at it! Its, like, there! He always has the same outfit but different colors. Biker shorts, hoodie, sneakers, and high socks. When the Laker's are winning he sports purple and gold. He disappeared once for a year and came back super thin. Over the next few months he gained all his weight back. No, I don’t know if his junk lost weight but I would imagine that’s where he stores food much like a camel.

I don’t know if any woman would want a dick that big or if any man would be willing to risk his ass to take on that challenge. I’m not even sure if he’s a cruiser. He just parades up and down the parking lot letting his dong (how many more names for penis can I come up with) flop in the breeze. Just so you know, I do not want a wang this big. There’s nothing I can do with that. I don’t even want to bang a woman that could comfortably take that! No amount of yoga can take that. You can do as many Downward Praying Housecat’s as you want and not handle the magic that is Captain Cucumber.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Porn Tales 1

Working in the porn shop like I did for seven long years, you get used to lots of weird requests. “Can I try this cock ring on here?” “Can I bring this dildo back if he doesn’t like it?” “What’s your name, cutie?” But out of all of these the strangest, though it may not seem like it, is this:

“Can I use your restroom?”

Seems innocent enough, right? No! You know how much weird, freaky shit can happen in a bathroom at a normal place, imagine the levels of depravity humans can reach whilst in the throws of passion in a porn shop with a stack of magazines. Here are two nasty ass stories.

One morning we (the employees) noticed something weird on the wall in the employee bathroom. By the way there was no customer bathroom. Anyway, we saw these weird marks across from the toilet on the wall. Me and the only other straight dude kept asking “What the hell is that?”

Another employee came in and said “Footprints” very matter of factly. So, in our ignorance we then asked “Why would there be footprints there?” The employee then sat on the toilet while holding a magazine (someone kept leaving Handjob magazines in the bathroom; imagine Penthouse letters but way more vulgar and for gay dudes), leaned back and placed his feet perfectly on the wall while simulating masturbation. I screamed and ran out the bathroom.

Another time this dude came into the store and vanished. I’m serious. This happened all the time. People would wander in and literally vanish. So one of my co-workers came in and opened the bathroom door to find a large Black dude sitting on the toilet.

“I’m naked…” is all he said.

So yeah we called the cops and they actually showed up. Truly shocking. They tossed his bag and found needles, drugs, and old ass porno mags. He had spread out a bunch on the floor in the bathroom for his entertainment. So, no. There were no customer bathrooms.

Sunday, June 12, 2011


“Ooh! I love poppers!”

Oh, poor, silly Dante. When I first started working at the porn shop I was introduced to the world of poppers. In my world poppers were what you wrapped fragile things in before shipping them. To this day I play with the stuff and have a two foot roll always on hand in my apartment. The poppers my supervisor was telling me about caused joy, but not the kind I was thinking of.

Wikipedia describes poppers as being “originally marketed as a prescription drug in 1937, amyl nitrite remained so until 1960, when the Food and Drug Administration removed the prescription requirement due to its safety record. This requirement was reinstated in 1969, after observation of an increase in recreational use.

Urbandictionary describes them as “Amyl Nitrate. Refers to a small, usually brown bottle of solvents or the solvents themselves, which are sniffed, usually during homosexual sex by the bottom. Amyl Nitrate boosts blood pressure, relaxing the anus and making anal sex more comfortable. Also known as snappers.

Poppers come in these little bottles and can be sold here, but only under their actual name. Names such as Rush, Mr. Wonderful (not Paul Orndoff), Can Opener, Jungle Juice, Ram, Hardware, and Bolt. I’ve sold this crap to many celebrities, even some who have boasted of their sobriety to the world. If this blog ever gets popular I am so naming names!

This stuff smells like shit by the way. If robots got STD’s it would smell like this. You’re supposed to hold the bottle near your nose, feel loopy, and a few days later wonder why your cock is laying next to you crying and you’re shitting flapjacks. One night this French dame drank some thinking it was funny until she and her buddies saw I wasn’t  laughing.

French Man: “Haw haw haw!” (that’s French laughter by the way) “She drank ze whole thing!”

Me: “Uh, you’re not supposed to drink it.”

French Man: (silence)

Me: “Yeah, that’s poisonous.”

It has a skull and crossbones on it! Some people would stumble into the porn shop at 6am with scabs and scars on their nose and lips asking for more. I had to cut people off a few times. Long term use can cause brain damage and thinking sex with random ass people is perfectly fine. So don’t try it. Or whippets. But that’s for another blog.

Joys Of Weho Part 1

This is the embodiment of fear. Me and my heterosexual life mate Alex from The DNA Show went to see a movie at The Grove the other day and saw this guy (yes, that’s a guy) just cruising along on his bicycle wearing a green two piece. This guy was a definite traffic stopper in all the wrong ways. Right now the West Hollywood Pride Parade is going on and I am being bombarded by loud music and horns. Yeah, good times. So come to West Hollywood for the fun, stay for the poppers!

Friday, June 10, 2011

Cruising Together...

In my very first blog for this new site I want to introduce people to the world of cruisers. Most people know cruisers as people who drive or an actual vehicle. I’ve spoken of the many magical ones in my area and below I have even added a photo as an example.
lists a cruiser as “… a person who may take pride in going around public areas in search for having sexual intercourse with the same gender.” Oh, this barely touches the tip of the iceberg of the world of cruisers. I have been living in West Hollywood for about 14 years now (Jesus, that is sad…) and have watched some of these guys actually grow up from 18 year old fresh faced fellas to 30 year old battered and meth out freaks.

Some cruisers, usually the new ones, wander a bit too much. I spotted a new one just yesterday who was walking around the parking lot in front of the cars and grabbing his dick. A common rookie mistake. The vets know the score. Pick a spot and stand there with the merchandise on display ala Captain Cucumber (I will write about him sooner or later).

The worst kind of cruiser is the ones that travel in groups. Nothing is worse than a group of bored cruisers on a slow ass selling day. Expect lots of skateboarding, Frisbee, and much to my enjoyment, being run over while sitting on the curb! Yes, that happened and yes I have photos.

I have had the chance to look through a cruisers backpack while working at the porn shop. He left it overnight and we had to see if there was any identification. Yeah, that’s why. It had toothpaste, condoms (surprisingly), mouthwash, gum, small packets of lube, and socks. I was shocked at the lack of body spray or wet wipes.