|
From: [email protected] (Adult Movie FAQ) Get a drink folks, this is a long one... This will all be archived at rame.net with pictures and stuff forthcoming. INTRODUCTIONA great big hello and how do you finally do to all those people from the newsgroup who were able to make it thru the early confusion at the front desk to find Suite 929, a suite the likes of which I have not been privy to... but I guess that's because I am not a high roller. :-) I should start off this travelogue by thanking the following people: N Smith for setting this all up; Luc Wylder for helping us get the room and such an incredible rate for RAMErs at the hotel and lastly to the Staff of the Showboat who were so incredibly helpful and nice and who helped us get the front desk situation straightened right out once we explained what we needed, and the catering staff and the hospitality staff... if I could make a plea for everyone to say nice things about the Showboat and Mike Ashbrook who coordinated our rooms with Luc, it'd be appreciated. For next year, we hope to make the Showboat the official hotel of rame.net and have the party there again... but I am getting ahead of myself on this 500 line monster... on with the story... The day, for me, started out stressfully since I was called into the office before making the 2 hour drive south to Atlantic City, and I ended up not getting on the road until a little after 2 PM, meaning I would more than likely miss the show. I pulled into the Convention Center at about 4:25, got my parking ticket (more on this later) and headed to the floor. Got my credentials squared away (thank God for pre-registration) and I found the adult expo... now all I had to do was find Peter and N Smith... RENDEZVOUSI managed to run into Den from CAVR as soon as I entered the pavilion -- always nice to have a friendly face recognize you off the bat. I asked him if he saw Peter and he said I just missed him and that Peter mentioned having to meet someone around 5... was that person me? I took my leave of Den with assurances we'd see each other later in the evening. I wandered around the floor (surprised at the hardcore on the monitors -- the show seems to fluctuate between allowing it and not) looking for Mr. Smith or Peter. Happily, I found N with his ubiquitous camera bag in the snack area with Brian, the systems manager of Hypervillage.com (they host rame.net) and Kira G, of kirag.com So N and I went to call the Showboat and arrange for finger foods and the like for the suite. After a bit of confusion surrounding how much the plates would cost -- "10 dollars for a platter of finger sandwiches? That's it?!?" ... "Oh, 10 bucks per PERSON..." we got that squared away. N had to meet up with Luc Wylder (www.lucwylder.com) at the Sands to talk business and we would meet up to go to the nearby Thriftway to pick up snacks and the like that we didn't want to buy from room service. As we're leaving the show, N calls out to Ron Jeremy "You're coming by, right?" "Yeah, 929, right?" Ron Fucking Jeremy is coming to my party?!? I better get more food. PARKING HELLWe leave the convention center to get our cars -- and the convention center, in the act of saving paying a garage clerk $5.50 an hour, installed these "cashierless" parking kiosks where you had to get your ticket validated after putting in your money, then get in your car, put the ticket in the gate at the end so you could escape. This is where you realize that the simplest of tasks described as simply as possible still manage to trip up morons. The line came to a standstill four people in front of me as one gent got increasingly belligerent with the machine because he didn't press the receipt button in time (I know that 6 bucks would totally throw my monthly budget if I didn't get the deduction or the reimbursement from petty cash...) so he kept sticking his now validated ticket in the machine which kept spitting it out because, well, once a ticket is validated, that machine has no use for it anymore... this went on for no joke five minutes, which is an eternity in a line of 150 people, not to mention trying to curb the need to say "Shithead, here's the six bucks -- you can't read the fucking directions, you got no receipt, there's no way to get a receipt, now let the rest of us get our tickets stamped and leave this fucking hot hallway." I said this repeatedly to myself in an attempt to keep from saying out loud which would have resulted in an asswhupping. (Not his.) So, I get out of the garage around 5:40 and figure that I'll just go to the store since N still had to go back to his car to get his ticket and he'd never make it to the suite by 7:00 if he still had to go to the bar to talk business and then the store. THE STOREI come from the suburbs, I live in the suburbs. I feel it is necessary to get this out, because those city folk will probably think I'm pretty pussy and should wake up to the inequalities of this world... I pull into this mall and it is crowded and poor. Being a middle class white guy I am genetically bred to feel threatened at this point. I know my liberal brethren despise my inability to overcome this, but I am skittish... but I also know that people really do what to be good and these are people who are as hardworking as me just trying to keep on keeping on because they make quite a bit less than what I make. So I go into the liquor store. What to buy? What do Usenet geeks drink? What do porn stars drink? How much should I spend? How many people are coming? So many questions. I finally settle on a 30 pack of Coors Light. Yeah, its shitty, but most people will drink it and its pretty cheap. Sure, its becoming the Schlitz of my generation, but it ain't Bud :-) So I go back to the car and drop the 30 pack in the trunk and go to the Thriftway next door. Oh my god. Culture shock. The food seems to be on steel shelving with locks so it can be padlocked at night. The lines are out the door, tho to the store's credit all aisles are open (something they haven't learned to do in the 'burbs). I do ponder where all the Atlantic City Redevelopment Money is while I search for peanuts and other snacks. I get 4 12 packs of varying sodas, every kind of chip you can think of, M&Ms, pretzel rods (the phallic thing, I guess) peanuts, cashew halves, bowls for serving this stuff in and finally (because, again, what *do* pornstars eat??) a sleeve of lightly salted rice cakes. As I stand in the 15 items or less lane with 16 items, I see Rick Savage putting foodstuffs into a bag as he escapes the Thriftway. I feel a little overdressed in a polo shirt and khakis. I suppose some picked up on this in the meat section when I was asked if I would trade some money for food stamps. I get myself out of the store $50 lighter and wheel my cart towards my car. D'oh! Another thing we don't have in the suburbs (tho we do have them at IKEA) small spaces in the railing that a person can go thru but the cart can't. How am I supposed to carry a hedgehog's worth of snacks and four 12 packs of soda to my car?!? Do I ask someone to watch my cart? Is that what these loiterers are hoping I will do since they can no longer bag at the supermarket (there's a sign "Bagging by Thiftway employees only") for spare change in exchange for food stamps? After giving it some thought, Imanagee to get all five bags around my left wrist, three 12 packs under myleftt arm and the last 12 pack in my right hand. I am know feeling (a) safe and (b) happy since it seems my time in the gym recently has paid off to some additional degree. I get my stuff into the car and hit the drive thru Taco Bell/KFC for a quick dinner. I am hoping for the Colonel's Popcorn Chicken (not healthy, but easy to eat on the run) but, naturally, they don't have it. ("We're not a participating restaurant.") So I order the basic grilled chicken combo. I get to the window and they're out of the potato wedges. WHAT!?! How can you be out of fries? "Just forget them" I say, cuz I gotta go -- times a'wasting and I don't have a key to the suite yet. LOAD-INI get to the Showboat and run downstairs to get to a house phone to call the Hypervillage guys who have the key to the suite. On the way, I run into Peter who is just wandering looking at the casino. "Come on, help me carry some snacks" and we go back to the car. We are not sure what the casino/hotel policy is for bringing five bags of snacks and lot of soda and beer into the hotel, so we hide it iduffelle bags. I feel like I'm 18 again sneaking beer into my dorm. We get to a phone to call about they key, but they're not in their room, nor are they in the suite. Damn! We walk to the suite, ring the doorbell (like a real lighted-up-next-tothe -door doorbell, not an apartment-push-the-button-under-the-peephole doorbell) and no one answers. Out of habit I check the door and it swings open. Hurray for sticky door locks! THE SUITEOur jaws drop as we see the suite. Large Screen TV. (Hide the remote and be happy there's no VCR happily because TV kills a party) Huge sectional sofa. Wet bar with stools. Glass topped "dining room" table. Entry foyer. Lamp. Large plastic tree. A balcony tat goes half way around the building into our bedroom. With a HUGE bathroom -- showerJacuzzizi (also with TV), enclosed commode with ashtray and phone. Kingsize bed with 19" TV. Another sitting area. A vanity with large mirror and seat. Go thru the other door, some closets and another bathroom and shower which leads back to the foyer. Wow. wow. wow. I unpack the sodas and put them into the fridge. We watch Hollywood Squares in the meantime. I put out the snacks onto a variety of tables, M&Ms in this bowl, peanuts in that. I split the rice cakes into two equal stacks of 6 and put them in bowls. We wait. Is anyone coming? Total rice cakes: 12 THE GUESTSOur first guest was Count Spankula of Cyberbabes.com. We had met at a Margold party when Heretic and I came down some years back. He filled us in on the sites he's buying up. He too was in awe of the room and the balcony (overlooking the ocean and the amusement pier by the Taj) The Hypervillage folks (Brian ad Kira G) came back with Mr. Smith in tow, so Peter and I went to get the beer. When we gobackfk the place was PACKED. Someone had the bright idea of moving the side table into the foyer so people could sign in and put their nametags on. (A full list of visitors that we know about will be at the end of the article. In the spirit of networking, if you want the e-mail addresses of people who were at the party, contact me.) We unpack the beer and look around. Nina Hartley is there. So is Shayla LaVeaux. Luc Wylder and Alexandra Silk are there too. There's Mike South. And Jim Gunn! And Christi Lake and John. And Doctor X is shooting for AVN in our bedroom?!? And he's using the pretzel rods! Total rice cakes consumed so far: 0 Peter and I are watching the door as Rodney Moore saunters in. "Greetings! We're your anonymous hosts!" I chuckle to Peter. Den is talking to someone while Nina sneaks up tAlexandrara and massages her most private of places. Lucky guy, that Den... best he gets some reward for being one of the best reviewers on the Net. There were a host of "second level" performers who I did not recognize, but seems like nice folks. Niki Lae was showing off her clit (labia?) ring and explaining how she wants another one so she can dangle a chain across. Somebody else is smoking a joint on the patio which seems to get some of thhandlersrs a bit riled since there was shooting slated for later in the evening. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to meet Jeff Krull who was nice enough to send me copies of some of his movies (I reviewed "King of Porn" a few years ago, and his rocumentary "Heavy Metal Parking Lot" is still enjoying cult success.) but I didn't know he was even in the room until I went over the signup sheets. Luke Ford calls in to someone who was at the party to report he was hacked again (get some real sysadmins, Luke) and to get the scoop of the day which was Johnny Toxxic getting thrown off the show floor and having his badge ripped up for some reason or another. Just as well. We need him to be focussing all his time and energies on making better and hotter puke videos. BIRTHDAY BOYLuc Wylder tells us that it's Mr. Smith's birthday and we have a cake coming, so please distract him. We do and suddenly the music starts, the Birthday Boy in on the couch and three of porn's premier entertainers -- Nina, Shayla and Alexandra "Eat My Cookie" Silk -- proceed to give him a lap dance that made most guys wish their Dad and Mom got it on in January all those years ago.
>From there Peter and I were introduced as the hosts of the party -- sure N So I launched into a spiel using charts and graphs with a paragraph on the back of each onexplainingng what each one was explaining how usenet works and who we are and where we came from (alt.sex.movies begat rec.arts.movies.erotica which begat rame.net, etc.) There weren't many people from PST (pornstar trading) -- tho I admit I did not do a good job as cross-pollinating our info there -- just not enough time. So afterwards people then knew who Peter and I were, so we got a bit more talking time and people realized we were more than just pasty faced geek hangers-on, we were pasty faced geek hangers on with publishing power. :-) I had a great time chatting with people -- from Nina Hartley discussing how she (actually, she gave all the credit to her wife, Bobby who used to post here) won the domain name dispute with Nina Footwear; to the guys from Atomic Books who couldn't believe their wives/girlfriends let them come. (Also a special thanks to the guys from Atomic Books who we met in the confusion of smuggling up the beer since the front desk had no idea what our room number was the time for the video of the '97 show.. haven't had a chance to watch it, but I will post a review when I do.) To Mike South discussing the latest flap that spilled over into RAME regarding Luke's latest allegations; to the late night casual hang with Luc and Alexandra. TIME TO GOMost people were gone by 10:30 or so. We had a good two and a half hour run -- the food was gone, the beer was gone. People were shooting; there was a party Christi Lake was hosting at Delilah's that ran until Midnight, etc. Peter and I were sitting on the couch watchinthetYankeeses kill the Rangers (Go Team!) when there was a knock on the door. In walks Ron Jeremy, some girl named Lisa (I think, it was late) and two other guys. They seem sad that (a) its only me and Peter and (b) no food or beer. I figured Ron had to eat something and what better thing than a rice cake? Someone would finally eat one. They were the running joke of the evening and I thank N for taking the heat a few times :-) But no. Instead, Ron chose to pick the lettuce garnish and olives off the toothpick riddled platter of finger sandwiches.
This was surreal.
Who?
Ron thinks it would be a good idea thaveve the girl and one of the guys in
the bedroom making having sex sounds so that when these two came in, we'd
tell them that if they want to go into the bedroom they have to remove an
article of clothing... just like at Anna Malle's parties.
So they go into the bedroom, and we wait for the other two. And we wait.
We chat about nothing in particular, Ron picks at the doily on the platter
(I don't think he ate it, tho he may have nursed the pickle juice out of
it -- oh, I'm kidding!) and then Taylor and Dave come in.
Taylor being Taylor Hayes.
<slavering fanboy mode=on>
Taylor is sporting some new breasts that look pretty good in a clingy top -
not too big, they look about right for a very gifted girl with her frame.
Ron wants to see them. Badly. (As a quick aside, this does not mean I like implants as a rule -- you should enjoy what God gave you -- but these looked nice -- no beach balls here...)
"$35 bucks at vivid.com You wanna see 'em, go to the web site." (Oh, what
Tim Berners-Lee must be thinking...)
(I didn't have the heart -- nor did anyone, really, and what did it matter
-- to tell her that vivid.com is not the same company as vividvideo.com...)
Then we get talking about websites and how Leisure Time has set one up for
Ron at ronjeremy.com and how in his free section he has pictures of himself
with famoupeoplele and the hardcore stuff you have to pay for.
Then he remembers that he has peoplmakingng sex noises in the bedroom.
Surely this will get Taylor to remove her shirt, he thinks. But no, she
doesn't really fall for it and she slips her jacket down past her shoulders
and the door opens and we see the two people just standing there asking
"Were we good?" and everyone saying "Sure. We believed you the whole time."
The gang them left (still no rice cakes were eaten -- apparently, pornstars
like Doritos -- well, the only pornstar I saw eating and saying "I am only
interested in thesDoritosos right now" was Taylor Hayes, but its good
enough for me. Next year, nothing but Doritos and Pretzel Rods.)
I made reference to this earlier and should explain. Alexandra Silk took
advantage of the cutting edge in bakery technology to have her face placed
on frosted lemon cookies. The technology still seems a little immature
since the likeness came ouslightlyly less contrasty so on some it looked
like she had no nose, but the cookies were damned tasty and the most clever
porn swag I have seen yet.
After RJ and Taylor left, Peter and I were again laughing at how bizarre
this all was and how we didn't really expect when the group was started for
it to come to the point where we were hosting a party and asked if we were
going to have a booth at CES next year. I said if someone wanted to fly us
out and pick up the tab, we'd love to have one. Oddly, so far, no
takers...
Luc Wylder, Alexandra and The Birthday Boy came back from dinner to relax a
bit before heading off to points unknown. This, to me, was the nicest part
of the evening. I haven't met a lot of porn people, but I've watched a lot
of them work the floors, behind the booths, etc. when the public face
wasn't on, and a lot of them are arrogant, have incredible attitudes and I
don't find them all that appealing. The industry is mostly made up of
salesman in shiny suits who'll shake your hand and tell you one thing while
turning the knife with the other one...
But Luc and Alexandra are the real deal. Man, are they nice! They accepted
Peter and I very graciously and I like them a lot. (I want to say "they're
just like people!" but I know how silly that sounds -- so I'll say "they're
just like friends!") I ended up crashing in the suite since I was just too
tired to drive home, and the suite was a mess. I didn't care, really
because (a) I am a slob and (b) I was sleeping in the bedroom which was
neat. But Luc insisted "for my comfort" that we call housekeeping up and
have them straighten up for me. that was very considerate and something
you don;t see everyday. At least, I don't see it every day.
<aside class="fanboy">
As the hospitality staff whirled the white tornado around the room, we
talked about what a great event this turned out to be and how we hoped it
would turn into an annual thing. It was a nice open house -- people were
free to come and go as they pleased, there was mingling and talking and
networking and having of good times that I hope we can duplicate next year.
So that's it... oh, and for the person who called the suite at 1:30 AM
which I was watching M*A*S*H* looking for Joe... he never made it back.
See ya next year.
And now, the list of attendees who signed in:
Name (affiliation)
| |