by Dr. Susan Block      

It’s our 32^nd Wedding Anniversary!

Thirty-two years ago, my Prince Charming – Prince Maximillian Rudolph Leblovic di Lobkowiz di Filangieri, pioneer LA underground publisher, international artist, designer, antiwar activist, sexual freedom fighter, free speech fugitive (at one point) and bon vivant – and I entered into the kinkiest kind of human bondage there is: we got MARRIED.

32 Years of Pro-Bonobo Love. Video Still

The date was 4/12/1992. And now, 32 years – 384 months (for all you numerophiles) 1,700 weeks, 11,688 days, 280,512 hours, or 16,830,720 minutes later (more or less) – through thousands of shows, books, magazines, orgasms, trips, talks, arguments, adventures, imprisonments, forced separations – fabulous bacchanals, through thick and thin, and love, love and more love – we put on this show.

Gathering together a few friends, lovers and allies to the FDR radio broadcast bar at the little Love Church of the Bonobo Way in the Village of Bonoboville, we celebrate 32 Years of lawfully wedded love, pro-bonobo marriage, sexual revelation and cage-free revolution.

And what a reveling, revolving, revealing, rollicking, Rabelaisian, roller coaster we ride on our 32^nd anniversary show, filled with love, sex, pleasure, pain, laughter, anger and joy, expounding, erupting, interrupting, sulking, sucking, licking, kissing, reminiscing, fantasizing, romanticizing, clashing, rehashing, telling tales, spanking tails, celebrating our love and – as always – protesting the war/s – especially the unceasing and increasingly appalling Zionist genocide.

Free Palestine!

Guns and bombs rule the rubble, but on the Battlefield of Public Opinion, we are winning.

We don’t spend the entire show beating our peace drums for the victims of Israel’s ongoing apartheid/genocide, but enough so you could call it our “32^nd Wedding Anniversary for Palestine,” which I do.

I even wear a black and white keffiyeh with my wedding-white lingerie.

In a way, the keffiyeh reminds me of a Jewish tallis or prayer shawl. It’s ironic that our currently warring religions are so very similar, like Abraham’s sons, Ishmael and Isaac.

Capt’n Max, the “Captain of My Heart” (inscribed on the inside of my wedding ring), sports a Palestinian flag pin on his cap.  More Palestinian flags of different sizes festoon Bonoboville.

I wonder what the two rabbis who officiated at our Har Zion temple wedding 32 years ago (many thanks to Rabbi Gerald Wolpe and Rabbi Ivan Caine, wherever they are) would think of our attire, decor and fervent opposition to the Zionist apartheid/genocide.

Much as they encouraged me while growing up, my hunch is they wouldn’t approve.

Wearing my Palestinian keffiyeh in front of a woodcut of a Rabbi praying at the Western Wall that I made when I was about 14 at Hebrew Camp Ramah in the Poconos.

What kind of horror is this that divides Jews against Jews? The Jewish people have always been a diverse bunch, but this feels like it could be a Jewish Civil War – the Zionists against the rest of us. Max (who converted to Judaism years before we got married) and I are on the side of Jews for peace (literally) – that is already coming to blows in the streets of the Holy Land, from Tel Aviv to Brooklyn, Berlin to LA. Us anti-Zionist Jews are passionate, reasonable and, as the Talmudists say, “righteous.”

Unfortunately, the Zionists have all the guns.

Guns and bombs rule the rubble, but on the Battlefield of Public Opinion, we are winning. Israel’s genocide is supported by the powerful AIPAC (American Israel Public Affairs Committee) lobby and humungous Military-Industrial-Congressional Complex of War Criminals and Sleazebags, while we – and the peoples of the world – support peace in Palestine.

So, that’s how we’re rolling through this auspicious evening of conflict, resolution, revolution, good times, great food, fantastic old friends and a new beginning in the course of our endless journey.

It happens that one symbol of the 32^nd wedding anniversary is “transportation” – whether a high-speed train, your own two legs or your imagination.

The Goal is the Journey. At least, that’s our motto (one of them) for 32 years.

The DERBY

Transportation might be the name of the 32^nd anniversary game, but Max and I don’t really go anywhere.

Copper & Keffiyeh for Palestine on our way to the Derby for our 32nd Wedding Anniversary dinner.

Honestly, we tried going up the coast on a Great RV Adventure on our 31^st, but didn’t make it past Ventura, and weren’t about to try that again.

Nevertheless, the 32nd is quite the wild ride – a bit bumpy at times (like every anniversary) – but mostly awesome and ultimately amazing.

Of course, we transport ourselves on every FDR show, riding that Love Train, which is also a Peace-through-Pleasure Train, into the future, from the Capitalocene to the Bonobocene, through the terrible Perma-Wars of our times.

We also transport ourselves to dinner at the Derby on the night of our actual anniversary. We know it should be good, having had a scrumptious lunch seasoned with equestrian ambiance on my 2022 birthday.

Toasting Our Copper Anniversary in Copper Cups at The Derby.

And it is good, celebrating our 32-year-old marriage the good old-fashioned U.S.A. way – with a food orgy.

From Max’s juicy steak and lobster tail to my delicate Chilean sea bass and monster asparagus to icy Moscow mules in copper cups (copper being another symbol of the 32^nd) and a climactic flaming Baked Alaska, the Derby does it best.

Between courses, two different groups of diners come over to our table to tell us how we inspire them. I kid you not.

We take a photo with one set, but we’re too shy to ask what it is about us that inspires them. My big Derby hat? Our youthful romance despite our advanced age? The boho-bonobo vibe of a Wandering Jew and Rome’ing Italian? My copper and keffiyeh?

Honestly, I hope it’s my keffiyeh. We want to engage people and open their minds, as we can’t get the Zionist horrors off our own minds – or out of our hearts – even on our anniversary.

Good thing we have our anniversary orgasms before dinner.

Well, sort of. It feels kind of uncouth as Israel criminally starves the people of Gaza, while here we are gobbling up all those Derby delicacies like we’re the starving ones. However, that’s exactly what we do. Yum!

Good thing we have our anniversary orgasms before the big Derby dinner. I’m a firm believer in engaging in holiday sex at the beginning of the holiday – just in case it goes awry, or one or both of you are too stuffed, angry or sleepy – you’ll be glad at least you got laid. If all goes well, you can do it again towards the end.

Park it at the Derby, Babe.

The Derby is by the Santa Anita racetrack, and we’re against horseracing because of its cruelty to these magnificent equine animals, but all the racetrack memorabilia has me fantasizing about having sex on a horse (not with the horse – the two of us on the horse) in between sips of our Moscow mules – still one of our favorite libations, Putin’s war crimes notwithstanding.

So many war crimes – so little time! Better to think about sex on a horse. Hmmm… Could be a great Derby drink…

SHOWTIME!

By horse, Uber or limo, our guests transport themselves to us (through the pouring rain!), blessing our 32^nd Wedding Anniversary with many kinky friends and lovers who have joined us for some of the thousands of shows and bacchanals we’ve put on throughout the decades.

The live broadcast kicks off with gusto… maybe a little too much gusto on my part, because just a few minutes in, I manage to interrupt Max right in the midst of an important statement, at which point he simply and rather abruptly stops talking to me, leaving me virtually alone in the crowd at the start of our anniversary show.

What a mess!

I want to cry – for myself, for our marriage, for our audience, for Palestine – but I decide to spare my mascara and just stumble on. The show must go on.

It could be worse. At least, Max doesn’t walk out or shut everything down.

Gradually, there is a thawing of marital tensions. Listen for a lesson in making peace though pleasure and saying “sorry,” sprinkled with a little patience and erotic seduction. It’s The Bonobo Way of conflict resolution and a long and loving marriage.

A thawing of marital tensions in the midst of FDR “Group Therapy.” Video Frame

Though I was captain of my high school debating team (where I regularly prevailed over arrogant Vietnam warmongers like Bibi Net Nut), I’ve learned in marriage, it’s more important to maintain harmony than win debates, especially when married to a Bonobo Prince.

So, as soon as we get on the subject of Michelangelo using a lot of lapis lazuli (yet another damn symbol of the 32^nd wedding anniversary) to paint the Sistine Chapel, Max can’t resist telling the true tale of the little old Italian landlady who showed him her Sistine Chapel-like ceiling painted by “the house painter.”

“It’s like a Michelangelo,” exclaimed Max.

“Yes,” she replied. “Michelangelo was a house painter.”

Everyone laughs, and Max hops back on the Love Train – back in the saddle with his partner in lust and trust, his lover, his witness, his bride – and we all have a very merry ride.

Thanks again to our fabulous guests for coming out to celebrate in the pouring rain!

Featured Guests (in order of appearance on the show)

Mark Brown: Having given my unkempt blonde tresses a touch of copper the day before, the world’s best hairdresser (who also ice skates and plays the harp!) coifs me again as the broadcast begins. Somehow that doesn’t stop my hat from falling off throughout the show, but my hair looks great. Mark also brings his sweet poodle-shitzu Frankie and a tray of big succulent BBQ ribs – for us, not Frankie – or Chico, and for that, they give us those hangdog puppy eyes.

With Dre, Rhiannon, Scott and Mark. Video Frame

Dre Day: When Max stops talking to me, Dre Day saves the day. Copper pigtails bouncing, she bellies up to the bar mic, and we chat about copper anniversaries, the Derby, how oxidized copper turns turquoise and her personal favorite 32^nd anniversary symbol, lapis lazuli. Honestly, there are so many “symbols” for these odd-numbered anniversaries we never even knew about 32 years ago, but that’s the magic of internet capitalism. Why else would I even consider buying a lapis locket from Temu?

Dre also pops the champagne, comes up with the idea of doing a “Potcast” (or is that Abe?), carefully inspects the mafia-like pic of Max and all our male relatives in tuxedos and morning suits since she comes from an “Italian family,” and chimes in on how she – and many Americans – lust for ammosexual War Porn. Indeed, this is what we bonobo sapiens are up against. Make Kink Not War (porn)!

Rhiannon Aarons: Glowing in a vintage-style copper necklace, hot MILF winner of “Most Well-Rounded Kinkster” and “Best Bonoboville Communion” 2023 SUZY awards, Long Beach University Art History Professor Rhiannon shares her knowledge of Michelangelo’s copious use of lapis lazuli and the recent removal of loincloths covering various penises in the Sistine Chapel, as well as her tale of Michelangelo’s revenge on Minos, one of his Puritanical critics, by painting him at the Gates of Hell with ass ears and a snake biting his dick. Apparently, the Sistine could be called The Chapel of Penises – and that’s not counting the angels, who are, in keeping with scripture, genderless and dickless. Moreover, this is what ultimately inspires Max to rejoin the land of the speaking and tell his Michelangelo tale.

Rhiannon also brings tRump (played by the long-suffering Tim Sewell) whose hair appears to have gone silver – at least on the mask – in real-life it’s still the color of dirty bleached margarine. The Trumpus comes bearing gifts, including a pair of tacky gold clown “Trump Sneakers” and a bottle of Shramsberg white wine so tiny, his hands look normal-sized.

All these bribes don’t stop me from beating tRump – giving that carnival-barking malignant narcissist a good book-spanking with our wedding book, which is heavy enough to pack a wallop – 32 times for our 32^nd wedding anniversary – plus about 10 to grow on.

Beating tRump with Our Wedding Book. Photo: Carl Russell

See how easy it is to beat tRump?

Easy, but not inevitable. Unfortunately, in reality, our fate lies in the shaky, bloody hands of Genocide Joe who, despite all the horrors and protests, won’t stop the flow of American weapons arming Israel’s holocaust. Maybe he’s just a pigheaded old Zionist, or maybe it’s not his choice – or even Bibi Net Nut who seems like he’s prime minister of America, but maybe he’s just America’s ferocious attack dog in its unofficial 51^st state, and it’s all part of the century-old never-spelled-out *plan* to *control* the Middle East by force of U.S. arms, now entering its AI (artificial ignorance) stages of unlimited destruction in real time.

Time to go bonobos and divest before it’s too late! Portland State University shows us the way…

Also, we’re excited to see the power of an honest porn star set a precedent in taking down a particularly rotten malignant narcissist president. Go Bonobos for Stormy Daniels!

Fawnia wins the SUZY award for “Best Spanking” of 2023.

Fawnia: Southern California’s very best, most honest – and sexiest – real estate agent, darling Fawnia is also the winner of the 2023 SUZY award for “Best Spanking,” thanks to having taken 80 spanks (and a few to grow on!) for Capt’n Max’s 80^th birthday. Accompanied by her realtor friend Amy in shocking hot pink, Fawnia glitters like the sparkling hot MILF that she is, and spices up the Israel/Palestine issue with a reference to the sacred, sacrificial “blemish-free Red Heifer.”

Amor Hilton: The most adorable Hilton, winner of “Best Barbie” and (as always) “Most Adorable” SUZY awards for 2023, makes a grand entrance in a transparent, floor-length black negligee (on a rainy night!). Amor’s usually blonde hair is a lustrous copper for our Copper Anniversary. She also makes a chocolate covered strawberry cookie cake, and everyone takes a bite – even Max! Amor assumes the position of our Copper Anniversary Flower Girl, holding our wedding book as we ogle the images of our conservative synagogue ceremony, eliciting one of the biggest laughs when she mistakes Max and his brother Charlie strolling down the aisle together in yarmulkes for “two gay rabbis.”

Amor Hilton is our Copper-Haired Copper Anniversary Flower Girl, holding our Wedding Book and cooing adorably as we reminisce.

Scott Webb: Lighting up the stars for decades, Scott also directed several episodes of The Dr. Susan Block Show in the early 2000’s. These were big bacchanalian extravaganzas – like Eros Day X Orgy for Obama and A Midsummer Night’s Wet Dream starring the late great Jessica Jaymes and the different Clown Porn factions – some with over a hundred people in the studio and art gallery. Scott brings his lovely wife Joy along, and we hope he got her permission to bite into one of Amor’s chocolate strawberries.

Lisa Villareal: Our beloved Bonoboville manager’s time with us overlapped with Scott’s, so she sits in on his interview. When Lisa started with us in 2008, the show was pretty small and focused on one special guest (her first was April Flores), and then, in part thanks to her bubbly energy and infectious enthusiasm, it soon grew back to extravaganza proportions. She also says it’s “healthy” that we – the loving couple – argue openly, even on our anniversary show.

Tuesday Conner: As we’re lighting the candle (yes, we have two magnificent cakes, but only one candle), and getting set to sing Happy Anniversary (to the tune of a jazzy Happy Birthday), Tuesday Conner arrives! And a good thing too, because Tuesday’s the best singer of us all.

Happy 32nd Wedding Anniversary to Us!

She also regales us with tales of the shows she’s doing with LA icons, and a Hollywood Fringe Festival “bluesology” poetry tribute to Gil Scott Heron. We harmonize on his most famous line, “The Revolution will not be televised.”

Or will it?

Certainly, the worldwide people’s revolution for Palestine was set off by the first genocide to be “televised” in real time, right before our shocked and appalled eyes. Now surpassing 7000 protests in 118 countries around the world with thousands of college students establishing pro-Palestine encampments on campuses across America – the People’s Revolution for Palestine is currently being televised and broadcast everywhere.

The American authoritarian response to this revolution has been a violent fascistic crackdown, and that is what we are also seeing in real time on university and college campuses across America, reminiscent of the college campus protests in the 1960s and ‘70s that ultimately helped to end the Vietnam War.

No, I don’t “support Hamas,”… But I deeply condemn the Zionist apartheid/genocide that is devastating the Palestinians and doing great damage to Judaism and Free Speech around the world.

Various kinds of people of all races and religions are involved on both sides. Jewish people are utterly – sometimes even traumatically – divided on the issues, and thus I wonder: Is a Jewish Civil War brewing? This is not just a question of Orthodox, “conservative” (how I was raised) or reform; it’s a question of genocide. When are Jews the victims and when are they the perpetrators? Does the famous Jewish slogan “never again” mean “for anyone” (how I was raised), or does it only apply to Jews (how the Zionists interpret it).

No, I don’t “support Hamas,” as one old friend from Philly now living in Israel (no, not Bibi – though I grew up with his creepy, toxic type) recently accused me when I said I mourned for the deaths “on both sides.” However, I see October 7^th as a terrible prison break from the “open air prison” that is/was Gaza, and I deeply condemn that Zionist prison and the ongoing apartheid/genocide that is devastating the Palestinians and doing tremendous damage to Judaism – as well as Freedom of Speech – around the world.

So does Max!

Fight the Power that Censors

Indeed, all the copper, lapis lazuli, conflict, resolution and transportation aside, our 32^nd Wedding Anniversary is dedicated to peace on Earth – most immediately a permanent ceasefire, and an end to the occupation.

Make Kink Not War! Let Gaza live. Stop arming Israel. Stop funding genocide, for fuck’s sake.

We’re lefties – sexy lefties – but we broadcast this show live on two “rightwing” platforms, Rumble and X/Twitter. Well, the Left and Right aren’t what they used to be.

They all profess to deplore censorship, but they practice it all the time – both politically and puritanically. We’re pretty sure both shadow-ban us, but at least, Apartheid Elon and Rumble’s “conservative” CEO Chris Pavlovski haven’t deactivated our accounts.

On the other hand, seemingly *liberal* Mark Zuckerberg (who condemned Hamas, but never Israel) did deactivate me (but not Max!) for the sake of nothing but bot-powered dehumanization.

Join our fight against META, and Zuck’s Augustus Caesar Cuckold complex. Arbitration will be June 26^th, 2024. Stay tuned for info.

And yes, our 32^nd Wedding Anniversary is also dedicated to our fight (we’re lovers, not fighters; but we’re always fighting for our rights to love!) Free Speech. Free Assange.

Free Palestine!

Free yourself. Be Cage-Free. Be Bonobo.

Many thanks to our Bonoboville crew, including Unscene Abe the Engineer, Harry Sapien, Mars FX, Gideon, Dre, Christina, Torin and Carl. A chef’s kiss to Ana Quintana, Queen of the Bonoboville Kitchen, aka Ana Cuchina, for preparing all the goodies with Miguel, making her famous taquitos, and keeping Senior Chico the Spitz-Pomeranian power pup out of (too much) trouble.

A very special, tearful thank you to everyone in Palestine, for simply staying alive, a miraculous everlasting light in the darkness.

And if I forgot anyone, thank YOU too.

DERBY Photo Gallery

SHOW Photo Gallery
Pics by Carl Russell, Harry Sapien, Torin, Christina, Lisa Villareal, Unscene Abe +Author Selfies

© April 13,  2024   Susan Block, Ph.D., a.k.a. “Dr. Suzy,” is a world renowned LA sex therapist, author of The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure and horny housewife, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. For speaking engagements, call 626-461-5950.