EroticaLA, Klown Diva, Green Revolution!
Fresh back from their trip to the desert, Suzy and Max discuss her nude birthday adventures at Sea Mountain Resort. With designer Melena Teves and the Porn Klown Posse in tow, a caller gets advice on breaking his addiction to masturbation so he can come with a girl. The ladies talk about each other’s hot bodies and the clowns whip themselves into a fury. Literally.
Much as we enjoyed frolicking nude and sharing simultaneous orgasms in the desert, we were eager to return to our own hedonistic oasis here in the Soul of Downtown LA. To better understand why, check out this video of opera star/fetish couture designer Malena Teves welcoming us home with an impromptu rendition of “Come Rain or Come Shine,” first a cappella, then accompanied by Kozmic the Klown on my great grandmom’s (untuned) 1926 Steinway:
Isn’t Malena awesome? When stuff like this happens in your *living room,* why would you want to leave home? This is why I hardly ever leave the Speakeasy/Institute. But contrary to rumors, I’m not agoraphobic. In fact, I came back from Sea Mountain just in time to go out again to Erotica LA!
Follow the Bouncing Boobs
After all that pure innocent nudity in paradise, it was fun to dress up like a California slut and hang out with the whores at the Convention Center. My nipples still burned from the desert sun and wind, but they actually felt more comfortable tucked into a tight push-up bra than rubbing freely against a loose tank top. Sometimes restraint really is better than freedom. Speaking of which, it felt great to put on five-inch heels after barefooting through paradise for three days.
Max was not about to go to any convention, so I gathered together a small entourage – Lisa, Eric and the two Alexes – and taxied over to Erotica LA. As soon as we strolled in, it was like a high school reunion – if you went to high school with porn stars. Folks I hadn’t seen in ages were coming up and hugging me, kissing my hand, inviting me to make out and challenging me to debate. Though it was unnerving to be recognized in the buff while “getting away from it all” in the desert, it was great to hear my name shouted out on the floor of the LA Convention Center.
There were so many big bouncing boobs at every turn, it felt like a volleyball tournament. But all nipples were kept under wraps, and not to protect them from the sun or wind, but to prevent…what? An orgy? A riot? A Nipple Revolution? There were plenty of naked nips on signs, DVDs and billboard-sized posters, by the way. But not a live bare breast to be found. No genitalia either. Here’s an example of where restraint might not be better than freedom…
Not that I came to see porn; I came to see some porn stars I hadn’t seen in a while. My first blast from the past happened when we entered the door and there was Cleopatra, exotic-erotic Porn Star of the Nile, whom I hadn’t seen since she seduced us all Egyptian-style, on Max’s Birthday Show in ’03. Then there was Amazonian blonde bombshell Darryl Hanah and her hot hardworking hubby Jack Fountain; I hadn’t seen them since Eros Day Ecstasy on The Cross. Turned another corner, and there was my old friend Ron Jeremy, introduced to me way back in the 20th century by America’s first radio psychologist Dr. Toni Grant (whom I’d met through Lynn Redgrave’s ex-hubby John Clark). Ron was blinking into the snapping shutters of the paparazzi with his sometime partner-in-crime XXXChurch Pastor Craig Gross whom I hadn’t seen since last year’s Sex Week at Yale. Pastor Craig’s the one who challenged me to a debate, and I accepted! Stay tuned to watch me feed this Christian to the Lions of Logic…
Wedding Bells for the Broken Door
Then I ran into some peeps that I hadn’t seen in, well, a week or two. Master D, Mistress Ice and Slave Bunny of Broken Door Fetish looked just like a regular little family shopping at the mall together. There was Mummy, Dada and their big naughty teenage daughter; except that “Daughter” was on a leash, Mummy and Dada were buying whips and sheets, and all of them were smiling. I’d just seen this cozy little threesome at the Speakeasy when they were guests on last week’s RadioSuzy1 show. On this very show, Master D and Mistress Ice announced their impending nuptials, at which yours truly has agreed to officiate. You may recall me ministering the Eros Day Carnaval Wedding of Laura and Jarred. Speaking of which, if you need an Ethical Hedonist Universal Life Church minister for your next wedding (or funeral), you know who to call. And if you join the bloggamy, you can see hot photos of 5’11” and pigtailed, 19-year-old Bunny squealing and squirming as Master D applies big clothespins to her nipples and knees throughout the radio show.
Then whom should I bump into but the other tender torturer of the Broken Door, the Professor with his “Pet” Lauren, last seen at the fabulous Speakeasy Bondage Gala. But before I could ask “What’s today’s lesson, Professor?” I was boob-to-boob with Regan Reese wearing nothing but skyscraper heels and a kitten-soft cover-up almost as silky as her skin. We commiserated over each other’s nipple burn, mine from the desert, and hers from Master D’s violet wand. Down the aisle was Regan’s gal pal whom we’d also met at the Gala, Luscious Lopez, showing her xxx-rated movies on a big screen. Later, we stuck our latex-gloved fingers into the Real Touch, the closest thing to a cyberdildonic robot pussy that I’ve ever felt. It’s the first artificially intelligent robot vagina! Though it must be a hell of a pain to clean. Then we hooked up with hot porn stars Eva Angelina, Teagen Presley, Kelly Shibari and Wicked Pictures’ Kirsten Price. What a pulchritudinous pornocopia!
Rock Hard Candy & Burning Angels
I was especially excited to meet powerhouse Punk Rock Porn Queen Joanna Angel, since she recently wowed the Bonobo Gang as a phone-in guest on RadioSuzy1, and is a real-life Queen Esther after my own heart. Also she’s even tinier than me, an adorable Napoleon of hipster hardcore. Moreover, Joanna‘s artfully decorated, joyously kinky and very colorfully tattooed Burning Angel booth was staffed by some of the hottest hotties in the Convention Center, including Envy Amor, Draven, Bellavendetta, MistiDawn, Bellavendetta and Brian who made sure to make out with various members of my entourage (not that we complained).
We gobbled up some delicious appetizers from Flavors with Love, but we wanted something more for our mouths. Since Erotica LA felt kind of like a carnival, we decided to get some candy, and I don’t mean the cotton kind. We got us some rock hard Cock Candy from the Adult Candy Shoppe, which sells Cocksicles and Dick & Titty Nibblers, in addition to the multi-colored Cock Suckers we opted for. Nothing like a trio of hot chicks sucking penis-shaped lollipops strolling through the LA Convention Center. We weren’t the only ones. What if cock candy becomes a mainstream craze like the Playboy logo? Will schools have to start banning genital-shaped suckers from the cafeteria? Call in the ACLU!
High on sugar and a little vodka that Alex S managed to smuggle into the Convention Center, we wandered into the Fluffy Bunny Whips booth, where I tried out the merchandise on Alex C’s fetchingly upturned butt. We liked these rubber floggers so much (no animals were harmed to make them!), we invited the good-natured owners Spanky and Boss Lady over to RadioSuzy1 the next night where we had even more fun with their fantastic assortment of whips, floggers, cat o’ nine tails and paddles.
The Shahl and Iran’s Sea of Green
Which brings us back to the Speakeasy the next night for RadioSuzy1. We invited some porn stars we met at Erotica LA, most of whom said they would come and none of whom did because they either had to go to the official after-party or straight home to soak their aching feet in Epsom salts. I settled in for a nice quiet radio show with the immediate Bonobo Gang, reviewing my nudist adventures and talking to callers.
Even though it was several days before the sprouting of the Green Revolution in Iran, for some mysterious reason, I put on my kooky Shah Shawl. I teamed my “Shahl” with a matching miniskirt made from velvet remnants that were left by an Iranian expatriate neighbor. The wrap features the imperious visage of Iran’s late America-sponsored dictator Mohammad Rezā Shāh Pahlavi, much like a kitchy, velvet painting of Elvis. Only this velvet gives new meaning to “Death to the Dictator,” a popular slogan 30 years ago in the streets of Tehran that has made a comeback on those same streets today.
It’s eerie for me to look at the photos now and think about the current situation in the “Land of the Aryans” (the literal translation of Iran) . Some of those who revolted against the old Shah in their youth have now become the New Shahs, and the new students of Iran are revolting against the current “dictator.” The situation is as woven with more complex threads than a Persian rug. Obama is being wisely cautious about it, and though some of my Counterpunch friends praise the downfall of theocracy, others are pretty sure it’s a CIA plot. But I’m just a simple sex therapist with my heart on my sleeve, and right now, my heart is bright green (as is my Twitter avatar). I’m especially moved by the active roles that women are playing on the streets of Tehran. Queen Esther is still alive and kicking in Persia.
Diva Malena & Porn Klown Posse take RadioSuzy1!
But back to this radio show, at which time, the Iranian election hadn’t even been held yet, and I was wearing my Shahl not as a political statement, but just for fun. As I began the broadcast, I noticed another returnee from the Bondage Gala in-studio: the multi-talented and gorgeous giantess Malena Teves. O, how to describe Malena? She’s a force of nature, an awesome opera singer, a fabulous fetish couture designer, an engaging actress and a total MILF. When I asked her how tall she was, she replied “5’12”. But her greatest talent is simply making you feel good. She sure made me feel good! Even though it had been three days since my birthday suit birthday, she insisted on singing me a special song with that sweet and potent voice of hers. What an excellent present!
Malena wasn’t my only birthday surprise that night on RadioSuzy1. Suddenly, without warning (well, I wasn’t warned), a platoon of colorful, glittery, rubber-chicken-swinging maniacs invaded the Speakeasy. It was the Porn Klown Posse! Our good friends Glenn (FreekBALL the Klown) and Maya (Tootz the Klown) were out of town, so they sent a Porn Klown Posse envoy. Katnip, Jigi, Kozmic, Cooter, Malice and Cookie rushed to the Speakeasy right after they had klowned up a krazy kolorful storm at Erotica LA, of all places. Of course, they had to give me birthday spankings, and I had to spank them too, with the rubber chicken, as well as a nice solid Fluffy Bunny paddle that packed quite a punch – a real “weapon of ass destruction.” Their nasty cat o’ nine tails came out to play as well as their fabulous Mammoth Flogger for the more delicate butt. Everybody donned Obama masks from our Eros Day X “Orgy for Obama” Inaugural Ball (soon to be a major motion picture!). Not that we’re saying Obama’s a clown, but that cute grinning face of his does look good ontop of a ruffled polkadot collar.
The climax of the evening combined the Diva and the Klowns: Malena’s impromptu serenade, accompanied by Kozmic the Klown who had come all the way from Japan to play my great grandmother’s 1926 Steinway baby grand piano. Malena managed to turn Harold Arland & Johnny Mercer’s “Come Rain or Come Shine” into a naughty birthday song, much to the delight of all the klowns, fools and porn stars.
Clowns Vs Porn Stars: A Brief History & Analysis
This got me to thinking about clowns and porn stars. On the surface, they seem to be polar opposites: Clowns are supposed to entertain children, and porn stars are for “adults only.” Yet they have a lot in common. They’re both renegade characters on the fringe of society, beloved and hated, feared and desired by millions. Both put us in touch with our joyously animal, sometimes irrational nature. And both make like bonobos, not baboons!
Both clowns (or klownz) and porn stars are funny and scary, seriously silly, vaguely menacing, crazily colorful and hyper-stimulating. Porn stars and clowns tend to do very physical acrobatic things that “normal” people can’t or won’t do. Both spend a lot of time PLAYING and being what most people would consider naughty. Both clowns and porn stars remind us, as my colleague Camille Paglia says, that for the most part, “Sex is a comedy, not a tragedy.” And yet there are clowns like Pierrot and porn stars like Linda Lovelace who represent the most tragic, romantic and haunting aspects of humanity.
Thousands of years before the Ringling Brothers did their first pratfalls, the ancestors of modern clowns were the very sexual, strap-on phalloi-wearing “satyrs” of ancient Greek comedies. In medieval times, court jesters turned the anti-sex rules of the ultra-powerful Catholic Church upside down with their bawdy songs and erotic antics. The Commedia dell’Arte of Italy incorporated gymnastic and verbal clowning into their adult-themed plays. The burlesque scene that blossomed in the mid-20th century combined clowning around with stripping. Then clowning and erotic performance seemed to go their separate ways. Clowning became something “for kids,” more faux violent than sexual, while erotic performance evolved into the relatively humorless form of hardcore porn that we know so well today. But now, thankfully, the Porn Klown Posse and many modern pornographers (Burning Angel among them) are bringing the two entertainment forms back together again.
Above all, both porn stars and clowns are performers of the “people’s” entertainment. Not opera or fine art, not Oscar-winning movies or morally uplifting theater, clowning and porn are low brow fare, both reviled and beloved, for the people. For these reasons, throughout my life, I have always surrounded myself with clowns and porn stars. They make me laugh and they turn me on. And their fearlessness has always inspired me.
As you might know, post-Yale, I was part of a sexy, politically active, improvisational clowning troupe called New England Commedia. And the eroto-comic light of Commedia d’ell’Arte has guided me every since. When comedy and sex come together at the Speakeasy, whether through klowns, porn stars, professors or the couple-next-door, we call it “Commedia Erotica.” Check out some hot-hot-hot Commedia Erotica, Klown Sex & Clown Porn when you join the conspiratorial bloggamy!
And Viva La Green Revolution!