2002 : Erotic City
we dive into Y2K2, I thought we might spend a little time
reflecting on highlights and low points that told the tale
of 2001. Probably the most unforgettable event of the year
was the astonishing devastation in New York City. Now, I'm
not gonna dwell too long on this. I mean, Jesus Christ, what
do you expect me to do, put an exploding skyscraper on our
cover, wave a flag, and call myself an American hero? I can
be a pornographic patriot without putting you through unnecessary
sensationalism. You've got your nose buried in these pages
to read about sex. That's right, apple pie, baseball, and
Chevrolet are great. But give me tits, ass, and all-American
pussy if you want me to stand up and salute.
country was born, we kicked the crap out of the uptight and
impotent British so we could explore our individual freedoms...
And here we are, hundreds of years later, still fighting for
these rights, whether it's against City Hall right here in
Portland or in the Middle East to terminate some nutsack chasing
Armageddon in the name of Allah.
of all the craziness, we still have the pleasures of the flesh
to get us through these trying times. Who cares if we're in
a recession--masturbation is absolutely free, just like this
magazine. Even though 2001 was a pretty fucked-up year, my
shallow ass still spent the entire year taking pictures of
naked women, hanging out in strip clubs on a daily basis,
and somehow I was able to make a living out of it. Life is
what you make out of it--live it, baby!!!
you weren't paying attention and didn't read this shit last
month, you aren't aware that Erotic City has
taken a new attitude. I figured it was high time to show you
nothing but the naked truth (as the column's byline promises
month after month). But fear not, porn-soldiers...Erotic
City will still be your field-guide for survival in the
Tits and Ass trenches, but it will be much more than that.
You will learn things you probably really didn't need to know.
But above all else, you will learn...the TRUTH!!! At least
95% of the time anyway...the other 5% will consist of our
lighthearted attempts at having some fun with this wacky,
wild industry we all know and love to be Pornland, Oregon.
In other words, we're just fuckin' wit' ya! So lighten up
and have a good time with it, for Crissakes!!!
with a Bad Attitude
of lightening up, why not start with our stunning covergirl,
Adrianne from Stars Cabaret? We met this blossoming
beauty when we were shooting last summer's Rose Festival
issue. I dragged Adrianne and two other Stars beauties onto
the river for the afternoon and attempted to shoot my first
photos outdoors, in the blazing sun on a boat that wouldn't
stay still long enough to set up the shot. The results were
not the greatest work I had ever done.
a picture of Adrianne for that issue that she found less
than acceptable. Adrianne chose to share her feelings of
her (un)coverage in our magazine by sending us an e-mail.
Unfortunately, we were unable to retrieve that e-mail, or
we would have printed it in its enraged entirety. But highlights
included quotes such as, "You guys are totally fucked...I
can't believe you put those shitty pictures of me in your
magazine. Your photographer sucks and he did NOT do me justice
in the least. Every time I see your shitty magazine, I throw
it in the trash where it belongs! I will NEVER appear in
your lousy rag again, and will let all my friends know how
fucked you are...," or something to that effect.
to say, we apologized with our utmost sincerity and hoped
that someday we would be able to redeem ourselves for this
terrible display of our unprofessional portrayal of this
lovely young woman. Fast-forward to November at the Stars
Cabaret Exotic Covergirl Contest...and the winner
is...the beautiful Adrianne. We all had a good laugh over
this, and seriously, folks, she was a pleasure to work with.
In addition, the bit about Bad Attitude is all part
of the show. (Not to mention the name of Downtown Portland's
ultra-cool clothing boutique, which provided the stunning
accessories worn by this month's covergirl.) Hope we did
you proud this time, Adrianne--practice makes perfect.
complaint I've been hearing around Erotic City is
that our magazine has gotten "too PG-13." Now, don't think
we don't pay attention to reader comments, people. If you
want more tits and ass, then who am I to stand in your way?
As a result of your complaints, you'll notice quite a bit
more flesh on these pages this month, including the all-new
Exotic Pinup pages. Two full-color pages which
will feature four new girls each month in the flesh and
not much else...two full-color pages just waiting for you
to stick them together.
with the New Year comes the newest and most exciting contest
this town has ever seen. It's here at last... Exotic's
Covergirl of the Year. Eighteen of our finest cover
queens will be attempting to capture the first-ever Covergirl
of the Year title, which will award them with $1500 cash,
over $1000 in prizes, and the cover of Exotic's Covergirl
of the Year issue in December 2002. How does she get there?
With your help, of course. Ballots are awaiting your votes,
(for $2.00 each) at select locations throughout the four
corners of Portland. See pages 30 and 31 for the polling
location nearest you.
And eighteen lucky voters will be selected by random drawing
to be our guests of honor. You'll arrive in style aboard
the Stars Party Bus to join every one of our covergirls
at the announcement ceremony, taking place at Stars Cabaret
in mid-March with feature performances by each contender.
Vote now...vote as many times as you like...and vote often.
(We'll need that two bucks a vote to pay for all this crazy
shit!) Coming in February, you'll even be able to vote online
at xmag.com. Good luck to all our covergirls; may the best
speaking of the Stars Party Bus, it seems that another magazine
here in town is trying
everything they can come up with to look original these
days. Things like, putting dancers on a bus and calling
it The SUX Party Bus. Stars was thrilled to hear
it, of course, but lost their sense of friendly competition
when the aforementioned bus made an apparently intentional
illegal turn in front of their own party bus and caused
quite an un-partylike collision (see photo). The
Stars Party bus was fortunately undamaged and will be rolling
with two more parties on wheels this month (see p. 27
of my favorite things to do on a Thursday night is rapidly
drawing to a close. The Jody's Bar and Grill Covergirl
Contest will be wrapping up with two final rounds of
competition, the Second Place Showdown on Thursday the 18th,
followed by the Big Finale on Friday the 18th. Contest fever
has been heating up at Jody's for the past ten weeks, and
you the people have spoken and selected each of the finalists
that will be competing for $1000 cash, and the cover of
next month's Exotic magazine. It's not too late to
get in on this action, as there are still two pre-qualifying
rounds on Thursday the 3rd and 10th. And to any of you guys
out there with a fat wallet that just loves tippin' those
ladies, that means there are two more chances to make yourself
a judge in the finale. We aren't putting your hairy ass
on the cover, but we will invite you to have a private black-tie
dinner with all twelve finalists before the show. In addition,
we'll give you the best seats in the house for the show
and four free table dances from our competitors just so
you can inspect their talent up-close and personal.
Question of the Month
Hymen, a dedicated strip-club-rack addict, approached me with
another ridiculously overused
question last month:
you that dude from Exotic? How can I get a job like
Buster, like many others, I'm sure you see my job as this
nonstop orgy, where I bounce from one club to another, assembling
an entourage of exotic beauties which worship me like a god
as they service me in every way I desire. Uhhh, yeah...you
got it, dude, it happens just like that, every single night,
and then...the alarm clock buzzes and I wake up, realize it
was all a dream, and go to work.
share an actual day in the life of Spooky? Try some reality
on for size, Buster, and lets see how it fits that hard-on
you've got for my job. Went to bed at 6 a.m. last night after
playing emcee at a big contest for one of my favorite clubs.
It was lots of fun. Out of the ten dancers who were scheduled
to participate in this event, four called me less than half
an hour before their shifts to inform me they weren't coming.
Two of them partied too hard last night, and two of them started
their periods (an excuse which women use on us because they
expect us to have no acceptable defensive response). Okay,
at least I still had six, but a fight breaks out backstage
between two of the girls because "That bitch danced to Type
O Negative and she knows that is MY MUSIC!!!"..."Screw
you, bitch, you gave MY REGULAR a table dance!!!" the other
snaps back. In the process of pulling them apart, a stray
punch from a perfectly manicured fist lands on my jaw. Now
we're down to four. I think I'm gonna get a break when the
two girls who canceled because they drank too much last night
showed up around midnight. But since they're already well
on their way to tomorrow's hangover, my ten-girl contest is
stuck with four contestants. Guess I'll call it a night.
it's morning and deadline is twenty-four hours away. First
appointment is at 10 a.m. to pick up ad details from that
new lingerie shop that just opened last month. Gotta make
sure I collect that $1,000 they owe us from last month's ad.
As I pull in the driveway of the broken-down building, I see
the eviction papers glued to the jack shack's door by the
Sheriff's office. That's fucking great. This is also the same
jack shack that caused another of my customers to dump me
this month because the dancer he employed and was also using
for a fuck toy appeared in his new competitor's ad. Business
bust my ass down to the office now. Got a photo shoot with
a hot babe at noon. On the way down to the studio, my cell
phone rings, and total sex bomb I met at Sassy's last week
is finally calling me. She shoots the small talk for a short
time and refreshes my memory about how I told her she should
call me for anything her heart desires. Eventually, she clumsily
admits the real reason for her call: "I just started my period
and was wondering if you would run to the store and pick me
up some tampons." (Just for the record...I didn't go.)
I get to the Exotic office, the fun really begins.
I walk into a trashed room full of empty pizza boxes and
a group very stressed people who are forced to be locked
in an office with each other for about ten days of increasing
tension. The graphic designers have a glazed, semi-psychotic
stare in their twitching eyes as they create the pornocopia
of our fine publication on the computers in front of them.
later, that "hot babe" I was expecting for the shoot shows
up. Instead of the statuesque, incredibly stacked goddess
I had picked out last night, a very unattractive, slightly
female-looking creature waddles into the studio and informs
me, "Bunny couldn't make it--she started her period...I'm
Beaver. My agent said you needed me for a photo shoot."
well, she's the last shoot of the month; I can deal with
it. So I size her up and try to see if maybe there's something
attractive about her I can accentuate to make her desirable
to the viewer.
dressed in saggy sweat pants and a lumpy sweater. She notices
me checking out her "fine chassis" and lets me know, "I've
been on a day-care gig all day, and I don't have any of
my dance clothes; why don't we just shoot it nude?" The
thought of seeing this woman naked forces me to excuse myself
to the restroom, where I relieve myself of that greasy breakfast
I slammed down on my way through a dive in North Portland.
I return into the studio, smile, and lapse into a numb appearance
of acceptance. It's time to go through the motions and convince
myself there is something sexually attractive about this
girl, and I'm going to find a way to make all of you want
her nasty ass. This is my job! This is my destiny!
photo shoot was a nightmare. She pulled off those sweats
to expose a greasy, sweaty, cellulite-ridden, too-many-buffet-havin',
body that no matter what angle I shot it from still maintained
its unchanging deficiency in attractiveness. One high point
came when I had to lean over the model's bare ass to adjust
the ribbons I had placed around parts of her body to hide
her most prominent rolls of excess flesh. I'm not gonna
get into details, but let's just say she had already damned
three of the five senses at this point, her most recent
violation being smell, as in...ass! Touch and taste had
not yet been violated, and there was no way in hell she
would be able to take them from me!
about ninety-five pictures of this girl and knew it wasn't
going to happen when thankfully she says, "We need to finish
up, because I feel really bloated, and I think I'm gonna
start my period. Do you guys have any tampons?"
point, I'm callin' it a day...
was one too many references to a subject which forces involuntary
sympathy on the male species in the name of ovulation. And
you know what the fuckin' irony is here, people...It's time
I shared something with you about this wonderful job I have,
that you all wish you had. I am blessed with the joy of
having a period every fuckin' month, ladies and gentlemen.
That's right, it's true...and this period is known as Exotic
magazine. Five to ten days of increasingly painful
hell which leads to what you're holding in your dirty little
hands. Oh, and I bleed as well; it's a monthly service to
take it up my unlubricated ass every month for a customer
or two just to collect a commission sometimes. And if I
could stick a tampon up my ass to make it stop, I would
in a heartbeat. But I end up right back here in the same
place every month.
term for a monthly magazine is a "periodical." As in "period";
as in "On the Motherfuckin' Rag!!!" But aside from the menstruational
similarities, you can also look at it as giving birth to
another bastard child every thirty days and praying to God
it isn't born deformed or that it doesn't look like that
other guy's magazine (same difference, I guess). So any
interested applicants can send in their resume, premenstrual
profile, and any other necessary information you might find
helpful to our office, and who knows, you just might be
the next lucky bastard to join our crew of merry men and
the women who tolerate them.
wasn't the last shoot after all. I broadened my horizons
this month and focused my camera on a new subject. I went
from shooting strippers to shellfish still-life when I was
asked to photograph an incredible lobster dinner for Roc's
Dollhouse. Now, I'm not sure if it was just because
I had been living off Dante's pizza all week, but
this looked like the most orgasmic meal I've ever laid eyes
on. And all I'm thinkin' about while I'm shooting this shit
is..."God, please, God, do I get to eat this when I finish?"
Which starts to make me wonder, "What the fuck is wrong
with me? I should be shooting a hot naked babe and saying...'Dear
Lord, please let me eat this when I finish....and I'm talkin'
breakfast, lunch, and dinner here, dammit!!!'" But guess
what--I only eat at home, folks. Good thing, since the Dollhouse
didn't put out, either...thanks, Rick.
2002 X Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. copyright | trademark | legal notices
Friend Finder - largest Adult Personals with over 10 million