Porn Star Lickin' Good....
It's been a decent chunk of time sans posting. I figure I should post a little more often to relieve stress, and worsen my carpal tunnel syndrome. It's a fairly even trade, I’m sure.
Ok! So hi! Anyway...I have a fun story for you all! (It’s true, more fun than rainbows. sort of.) So! I um...licked a...like, well a pornstar. This doesn't happen just every day, to just anyone. The pornstar, yes, I’m sure he gets licked quite frequently. It's kind of his job. I'm sure he also licks plenty of other people as well, but this is not The Point. I mean, it doesn't happen to your normal day to day person to:
A.) encounter a pornstar
B.) be asked by a pornstar if you are Bruce Lee
C.) Tell a pornstar you wouldn't hesitate to roundhouse kick him in the face (a little too Chuck Norrisy I know, but it was the first martial arts move I could think of other than "getting all Crouching Tiger on your ass"...and he may have misinterpreted that...)
D.) Inadvertently lick a porn star.
All of this within the course of like...4 hours. The Pornstar was Roman Heart (you can look him up y’know…pornstar and all. But I’m sure nothing is safe for work, and maybe not safe for tender virgins), but I prefer The Pornstar. I’m a fan of titles (unfortunately my title is too long for every day use “Techno Soft Data Entry Liaison” Maybe an acronym? DELTS…I kinda like that. It’s…classy.) And I bet you’re wondering why Sir Heart (TP) was asking me if I’m Bruce Lee. If you weren’t wondering, you should have been, and you really need to get with the picture. Seriously. Right!
So, I have a shirt that has this silhouette of Bruce Lee’s face on the front. He looks a little emo/angry/I’ll-get-all-crouching-tiger-on-your-ass. One day, after getting denied access to Canada, I stopped and visited my parents on the way back home. I was wearing the BL shirt and my mom saw it and we had this conversation:
Mom: Is that you on your shirt?
Self: Yes Mom, it is. I was actually vain enough to have my face printed on a shirt that I, myself, wear. I’m cool enough to need two faces.
Mom: but um…why?
Self: Well Mom, see…I was actually waiting to give it to my boyfriend. Then it would be like I was always with him, and that way, if someone felt so inclined as to hit on him, he could be all like “yo, this is my boyfriend…back off or he’ll get all Crouching Tiger on your ass…” I have one with his face on it, but…clearly there was a mix-up.
Mom: [shakes head] you’re a strange strange boy…
Self: …um. This isn’t me on my shirt Mom. It’s Bruce Lee
Mom: What? I thought it was you?...oh, no…you’re right. Wait -are you sure?
Self: [alternates pointing at my own face, and the face on my chest] your son [point] Bruce Lee [point] [repeat several times]
Mom: ?....hmph. Strange.
Self: ….hee.
Dad: …why did you tell her it was you? You should know better than to say things like that to your mom.
Self: I uh…funny!...hee……?
Dad: no.
Self: I came out of her! She should know what I look like! Promise! And -I mean…not Asian! Or…am I? Are you sure I wasn’t adopted? I mean, seriously. I always thought I was…and this just confirms it. I’m Asian! Ohmigod…what if my real last name was LEE! Jesse Lee…I seem to be missing that inherent gene that makes me capable of ass kickings though…
Mom: you were a ten pound baby, and I carried you for more than nine months. You were NOT adopted.
Self: but what if there was a mix-up at the hospital? I mean, what if Mr. and Mrs. Lee got stuck with some little Mexican kid? They’d be so mean to him! I mean, he won’t be able to do any of the sweet shit I can do like play instruments, excel at math, reprogram computers, OR run up walls! THEY’LL MAKE HIM CLEAN THINGS! THAT’S ALL HE’LL BE GOOD FOR!
Mom: I don’t think so…I suppose it COULD have happened, but I’m sure someone would have noticed by now.
Self: Mom, you clearly don’t understand. I HAVE SQUINTY EYES! YOU DO NOT!
Dad: Keep talking like that and I’ll [we’re going to pretend he said “get all crouching tiger on your ass” instead of what he actually said]
Self: hee….you said [censored]
Many conversations between my mother and me go this way. And then Dad steps in and either:
A.) Plays along (which eventually gets him into trouble, and later involves many apologies); or
B.) Gets upset with me and makes me stop (after my many apologies he usually laughs)
The night of Pornstar Licking ’08 I was asked approximately 23.5 times (I cut one guy off before he could finish the question, but I know that’s what he was going to ask) if I was Bruce. Even The Pornstar asked which led to the above noted Point C. I then asked him for two grab bags o’ porn…since my boyfriend wouldn’t make me anymore drinks until I got him one. (which is so unfair…I had to wait in a long line, get asked if I was Bruce, threaten a pornstar, and prevent The Pornstar from autographing his pictures because I wanted to just Get The Fuck Out Of There…all just to get some gin.)
Oh. Right. This was all supposed to be about how I licked The Pornstar. I forgot. Many apologies.
So! (hi!) later in the evening, The Pornstar (who had, at this point, removed most of his clothes, other than a pair of underwear and some giant leather boots. Like…the entire hind section of a cow. He looked ridiculous) was taking pictures with some people. They happened to be right next to me at the bar. They should have known better. I appeared in each picture, just over The Pornstar’s shoulder making gargoyle faces. Most [of my] gargoyle faces involve sticking out my tongue. Of course, I got nudged several times while posing…which caused me to inadvertently lick the porn star. Three times.
Now, don’t think that this pleased me (other than the fact that I can say I licked a pornstar.) I’m not a huge fan of porn; it either grosses me out, or makes me laugh (the more acting and dialogue, the better.) I told Boyfriend what happened and of course…
Self: uggggh! Aaah! AAAAAH! I judt lipped a borndar!
Boyfriend: you licked him!?
Self: yuh
Boyfriend: what did he taste like?
Self: I done dough…he dathded like…pake dan…
Boyfriend: like fake tan?
Self: yuh
Boyfriend: EW!
Self: I dough!
Boyfriend: shit…
Self: I DOUGH!!!!
Boyfriend: No…I mean, you licked a pornstar
Self: I dough…id wad groth
Boyfriend: No…I mean, WHY WOULD YOU LICK A PORNSTAR?
Self: I dunno…I wanded da HEP? I DIDUN MEAN DO!!!!!
Why I’m allowed in public, unmedicated…I honestly don’t know.
I’m sure everyone who took a picture of him will be thoroughly disappointed with how they came out. I mean, imagine:
Person A: ohmigod! Person B! Come quick! I have pictures of myself with a pornstar! I mean…we aren’t naked or doin’ it…but pictures! Pornstar! Meee!
Person B: ohmigod! Wait -who’s that next to the pornstar? Making the gargoyle face?
Person A: I don’t know…kinda looks like…WHY IS BRUCE LEE LICKING MY PORNSTAR!?!?
Person B: I don’t know…but the pornstar totally should have gone all crouching tiger on his ass…I mean, look at his boots! Mega stomping power. He could stomp a yard, in fact.
Person A: Most likely. WHY BRUCE LEE!? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO RUIN MY PICTURES OF PORNO FUN TIMES!?!!!!???!
Person B: Calm down, A…I mean, Bruce Lee’s kinda hot. Minus the gargoyle face…Is he wearing a shirt with his own picture on it?
Person A: no…I think that’s the kid who got mixed up with some Mexican kid at some hospital in Ohio, back in ’86….lots of news coverage.
Person B: ohhh rightrightrightright. Must be. Too bad about the pictures though…I wonder what The Pornstar tasted like? HOW DO WE GET BRUCE LEE’S PHONE NUMBER!?
(in a time before phone books)
There was nothing really exciting other than this porn star business. I worked it hard to get free drinks though. Let. Me. Tell. You. One just required me launching my entire body at someone else and saying “pleeeeeeeeeeeeease will you buy me just a little drink thing?!”
I feel like it should be noted though, that I was not particularly drunk during any of this story. I’m trying to re-work my budget, however, so I’m doing all I can to facilitate the getting of the drinks that are free. I’ve discovered a few methods.
1.) Just stand there and look pretty. Don’t even make eye contact, they find it threatening. Just stand there and look like you’re really into that brick wall. (this “distraction” may be a requirement, due to the sketchy nature of Those That Buy Drinks)
2.) During idle chit chat, cut them off mid sentence and declare “I am in need of a drink! You should buy me one”
3.) Have a birthday
4.) Extend your birthday as long as you can, by making people you haven’t seen in weeks buy you drinks. How dare they not show up to the party you didn’t invite them to. A shot’ll show ‘em.
5.) Put out (not recommended)
6.) If they ask you to dance/play pool/sing karaoke/sit and talk say “I don’t think I’m drunk enough to do THAT…why don’t you buy me another drink, and I’ll think about it?”
7.) Threaten their life.
8.) If you do end up on the dance floor, find a guy and dance a little freaky. While he’s dry humping your upper thigh, reach around and “squeeze” his booty. As you continue to “squeeze” slide his wallet out of his pocket. Don’t try to reach in the pocket! That’s too noticeable. Just, as you’re squeezing, start from the bottom of the pocket, and work the wallet up like toothpaste. With your arms still around him, remove any bills or major credit cards. If you’re super slick, you’ll find a way to get the wallet back into their pocket. Or you can be like me and just toss it into a dark corner.
This is all I’ve found…so far. I’m open to any other methods though.
So send ‘em in y’all!!!
K, bye.