New York Titty/ Provititty

So, I’m back, after an awesome trip to New York to see MIA (aka a hellish seven-hour ride home in the rain with my wipers only kinda-working.)  The city was fun, although as usual I feel like I barely saw any of it.  (If anybody knows of anything fun to do in the city, leave me a note in the comments section.)

We tried to take in some art, and caught the Mike Nelson show at the Essex Street Market.  I wanted to see Sex In The City, but we decided to high-tail it home instead because I had to be home for my radio show.  We stopped at Babeland, though, but were totally unimpressed by the lame selection and wildly unfriendly sales guy that was too busy listening to LCD Soundsystem to acknowledge that we existed.  I really have a problem with feminist porn stores that think it’s okay to hate male customers.

It reminded me of a store here in Providence.  I went in a couple of years ago, just to check it out, and the two girls working there were talking about a scam artist that’s always in the area talking about how his car broke down right around the corner and how he needs gas money and whatever.  I told them how I had called the guy out a few days before that, and how after that we were kind of friends (or at least he’d say hi to me.)  And the two girls both made disgusted faces and told me that they felt violated as women and there’s no way I could possibly understand what they went through when he asked them for gas money.

I didn’t go back.

It’s too bad, too, because there’s a total shortage of sex stores around here.  There’s one chain of them  that kind of drove everybody else out of business, but they’re just not that interesting.  There were two other video stores, but I think they both closed now.  One of them didn’t even make it three months, I don’t think.

In other news, the gays in Providence are all agog because somebody OD’d in a bathhouse.   They’re also all in a tizzy because a new all-male strip club opened and, from what I can tell, they’re complaining because it’s exactly like the old one.  Whatever.  I only went to the old one once, for lube wrestling, which was disappointing because a) it lasted all of seven minutes, b) allegedly started at 9 and didn’t get going until about 11:30, and c) was all twinky boys that were totally unattractive.  There was seriously one cute-ish guy in twelve rounds of wrestling–he looked really good from behind.  Nice legs, nice ass, nice hair, even if it was a little early Joey Tribbiani-ish.  But then he turned around and–I shit you not, reader–he had a Cher tattoo on his chest.  I mean Jesus.

Anyway, enough complaining.  I’ll be back with a mixtape tomorrow.  Sorry there was no starfucking this week, but maybe you can entertain yourself with this series of pornographic stories that I wrote when I was young enough for them to not be creepy.