| --Wednesday, November 19, 2008--
Livingston Taylor at the Wombat Room
 Lou-Ellyn is not dead; she's just bored with the title of the movie she's in.
I reviewed Abby Winters.com's masturbation epic Intimate Temptations for the website Fleshbot and can't stop thinking about it. What kind of name for a porn movie is Intimate Temptations? It sounds like a cookie store at the mall.
A porn movie deserves a better title, lest someone think it's not a film featuring women masturbating each other to orgasm but instead a General Foods International Coffee or the lounge at the Sheraton where every Tuesday night Dreamboat Annie, a Heart cover band, plays to eight or nine people, which include Dreamboat Annie.
 It turns out Intimate Temptations was a consensus title. Because I am America's Beloved Muckraking Porn Journalist, I flew to Australia (John Travolta was my Qantas pilot/Scientology auditor) and unearthed Abby Winters.com internal documents to discover several rejected titles:
Erotic MoodsWarm FeelingsSensual GlancesPleasant FondlingsLazy AfternoonsVibrating PassionsStrollin' in the ColonDamp FoldsHeated FlooringEarnest Rubbings
 As you can see, there is plenty to recommend this movie, which makes the title tragedy greater. Imagine Nick Cave releasing an album called Intimate Temptations.
See? You can't do it.
Watch Intimate Temptations now.
Buy Intimate Temptations now.
Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Oi my aching back; Cultural learnings of the Abby Winters girls
See also: Abby WintersLabels: abby winters, australia, masturbation, new porn daily, outrage, porn lesbians
posted by Gram the Man
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--Saturday, March 29, 2008--
Voices from the Tempe Phoenix Forum
 So I was able to sneak into Tempe's Phoenix Forum with the help of trusted associates and, after twenty minutes, determined that it was just like XBiz Hollywood except with nowhere else to go. While a couple of friends reported the sealing of long-germinating business deals at the Forum, I was most impressed with the number of stray cats on the grounds of the Mission Palms Hotel and the following snippets of conversation:
"This is a fantastic Flash-based application."
"But what does it do?"
"Well, it's Flash-based."
"You need to work on your pitch."
"Don't take it personally. She doesn't even call people back who paid for their admission."
"It doesn't do much for the cause when six yahoos go strolling down Mill Avenue with 'Pussycash' lanyards."
"The party's at Hooters."
"Hooters? Those girls hate me more than hookers do."
"I hear next year the Phoenix Forum will be in West Covina."
"How'd you get past security?"
"These guys like to pretend they're not making money the way they're actually making money."
"Then how do you explain naming your business 'SexSearch', 'Pussycash', or 'BangBucks'?"
"That's not what goes on the tax return. You only see those names when they're sponsoring an open bar."
"You're making this more complicated than it is. See you at Hooters."
"It was the most useless meeting I've ever been to, and I've been to some useless meetings. I wonder if she knows she probably shouldn't have showed up drunk."
Previously: Lockdown at the Tempe Phoenix Forum; XBiz panels tackle piracy, butt piracy, Mylie Cyrus
See also: The Phoenix ForumLabels: arizona, events, outrage
posted by Gram the Man
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--Friday, March 28, 2008--
Lockdown at the Phoenix Forum
 From a distance, Tempe's Mission Palms hotel looks like an ant colony. We adjust our binoculars and see that the ants are all wearing goatees and Hawaiian shirts. This is the adult webmaster convention known as the Phoenix Forum. Even though it's in Tempe.
Distance is required because my name is not on the press list. Unlike the AVN convention, which is like a Middle-eastern bazaar of haggling and texting people to vouch for you when your name isn't on the list, my experience this morning was a lot more like dealing with VA hospitals; a very curt and military "No."
This is understandable, as 80 percent of the local population is actually a patient at a VA hospital.
I decided I'd attend two weeks ago and started sending e-mails to the Forum's Info address listed on its website. When I didn't hear back, I didn't worry, but instead called friends to give me the contact info of someone in charge. When I got those names, I e-mailed and didn't hear back yet again.
So this morning I piloted my Hummer 3 (I bought it for the convention to fit in, even though I can see over the dashboard) past two levels of security; Tempe's Mission Palms hotel, in the shadow of Arizona State University Mountain, was locked down for the webmasters.
A table outside the registration area was laden (as tables tend to be) with copies of XBiz. I grabbed one because I knew I had a byline or two this month. I fired up this laptop and tabbed several instances of my articles around the web. I paperclipped my business card with my nom de porn to my California driver's license bearing the name Ronnie James Dio.
"You're not on the list," the temp at the registration desk said. She was very nice otherwise.
I went out into the lobby to make some calls. Everyone with decision-making power was somewhere else. A security guard asked me to leave.
"If you don't have a wristband, I'm afraid you're going to have to leave the property," he said.
"The property?" I asked. "I can't just sit over there and e-mail an outraged letter or two to the people irresponsible for this convention?"
"No," he said. "Well, you can stay there for a few minutes."
"Thank you."
"Grams," you might say. "You didn't pay an admission fee for the right to wear a 'Pussycash' lanyard. Do you really expect to just waltz in there with a pile of adult business articles under your arm after only sending four e-mails over the past two weeks?"
Well, yeah.
"And doesn't the fact that no one responded to you tell you anything, like that they didn't want you there?"
Wait a minute - are you saying that my trenchant and thoughtful take on the adult industry is irrelevant?
"If the shoe fits..."
After about twenty minutes of making calls and not raising the right people, I gave up and came to this Starbucks, where blue-haired snowbirds wonder over my shoulder who "Joey Buttafuoco" is.
I'm in the state anyway for the Great Gape Off at the Grand Canyon, in which several Red Light District starlets will compete with the Natural Wonder to see who has the largest capacity. The winner gets the Colorado River.
Previously: Nicole Moore goes streaming
See also: Tempe's Phoenix ForumLabels: events, outrage
posted by Gram the Man
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While GramPonante.com is written for a tenth-grade reading level (in some countries), you must be 18 years or older to visit this site. Sorry.
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