BUSINESS

Seth Rogan’s New Flick Taps Into "Naked" Drive For Quick Cash

By SexyChattyCatty

SETH ROGAN LOVES PORN.

The “Knocked Up” actor revealed recently that he watches "tons of porn. The Internet speeds have evolved directly with my sexual drive."

Of course he’s not alone.

The 26-year-old is the prime demographic of the industry: the age at which we (And I say ‘we’ cause I’m in the biz) describe male porn actors as “average.” As opposed to “mature,” which is over 40.

Rogan’s doing publicity for a new Kevin Smith movie titled Zack and Miri Make a Porno, described as a romantic comedy with a lot of skin. Rogan said he accepted the gig "almost…purely based on the title." It won’t be as raunchy as most of the stuff I’ve seen at work but I guess it’ll be more skin than a HBO serial. Or maybe not. HBO shows a hell of a lot of skin. And a lot of the kinky stuff I knew before working at the porn palace I learned from HBO. But I digress.

The movie’s premise – a down on their luck couple decide to make a porno for extra cash. Simple as that. But is it really that simple to make a porn flick? Ya know, I think it is. While there is a lot of slickly produced porn starring professionals such as Belladonna, Rocco Siffreddi and newcomers like sisters Ava and Mia Rose, there is also a huge amateur market. And who makes those amateurs films? People just like you. Well, like you but a lot more into sex.

You’d be amazed at the folks who are willing to take their clothes off for the camera and say “Ohhh, baby.” And distribute it. Never knowing really where it’s gonna end up. As in nudist clubs, these “actors” are all shapes, sizes and races. I’m not saying they make a lot of money. Some probably just enough to make another film. So you have to be a certain kind of person to commit to a amateur porn project.

There’s this one guy, let’s call him the Asian gangster. Cause that’s what he looks like, ill-fitting pinstripe suits and all. But then, he’s a producer. He’s in jail now, on something totally unrelated, but every two weeks he hand-delivered his product to us. He doesn’t live very far away from the office. I think he walked because I never saw him get into a car. The amount he makes, if this is his only income, wouldn’t support a car anyway. He specializes in college porn. Young dudes and dudettes, barely past 18 (FYI, Hustler has a trademark on the phase “barely legal”) in what look like small dorm rooms with just enough room for a bed. The films are a bit grainy and a smidge cloudy but clearly porn.

One woman has enticed all of her girlfriends to make movies. They all have breasts — so big they can sit with them plopped on a table like large, twin dinner plates.

Another woman lives in D.C., attends porn shows all over the world and goes by one name. She’s a gorgeous blond cougar who doesn’t seem to have a day job. All of her correspondence to us is on hotel stationary. She has one movie up on our site. She must have a “financier,” and that’s a euphemism.

We had a co-worker who crowed day and night that he was in a gay porn that was coming out soon. He was good looking, great body, a little crazy but we kinda believed him. Well, he got fired. And then his movie came into our office. And we watched it, about seven of us, all huddled around one computer screen. He was a bit “stiff” but then it was his first movie. How awkward is it to see your former co-worker naked and having sex with a bunch of guys? VERY.

But it wasn’t awkward at all when he came to visit us at the neighborhood lounge one Friday night. We welcomed him home, then he beat everyone at Ms. Pac-Man. He’s a guy of many talents and seems poised for success.

Homegrown Video” crowned the granddaddy of amateur by Penthouse mag, has more than 700 movies in it’s amateur series. Real amateurs. People you probably won’t see again because they take their little bit of money and run. But there is always someone else to take their place, someone who can sidle up to you and say, ‘Hey, I was in a porn movie.’

And don’t think I haven’t thought about doing it myself. We talk about it all the time at lunch. But then we look at each other and picture us naked and, nah, it just wouldn’t work.
SexyChattyCatty comments at CrabbyGolightly.com on TV, America’s favorite snack food. Originally published September 10, 2008.

POLITICS

Selling Political Wives’ Short By Selling Perfection

By MzEll and Crabby Golightly

WITH THE EXCEPTION OF A FEW BAD HAIR JOKES, I don’t recall any male politicians’ sartorial splendor or lack thereof making headlines. But the detailed review of the physical and style attributes of the women on this year’s campaign trail have been some of the sexist — and regressive — politics I’ve witnessed.

Hillary Clinton has always received a good amount of attention for her perfunctory personal style, but the fashion police jumped the shark when they forced her to eschew the diamond ring Bill gave her to cut down on the bling, as though carat size presaged political platform.

There was also the harrumphing about the cost of the outfits that Cindy McCain and Laura Bush wore to the Republican National Convention. Mrs. McCain’s allegedly cost $300,000! (Thanks largely to three-carat earrings estimated to be worth $280,000.) Joe the Plumber would have to unclog a whole lot of pipes to afford his wife a similar outfit. Mrs. Bush’s ensemble was more modest, costing about $4,000, a tasteful sum considering the event.

Then there was the hue and cry over the $150,000 the RNC apparently spent morphing Sarah Palin from hockey mom into VP contender. But the brouhaha was muffled when Hillary Clinton’s own stylist was quoted as saying that she was surprised any candidate would pay for designer clothing. She found it "strange" that Palin hadn’t been gifted the clothing outright. That expectation was even more shocking to me than the GOP’s campaign clothing budget.

The amount these Republicans spent on clothing seemed to illustrate the differences between the two parties, the so-called haves and have-nots. But even Michelle Obama was not safe from having her style deconstructed, with some wondering aloud whether Oprah was behind her polished first-lady look. And the New York Times went so far as to suggest that Michelle had undergone the “Oprah-fication” of her public persona. All the talk just makes me wonder if Jackie O’s style was really her own or something cultivated by a team of high paid stylists.

There is a crisis of vanity in America, and the women of the 2008 Presidential campaign have not escaped its (we suppose “Prada alligator”) clutches. These women on the political frontlines deserve to enjoy the experience that the travel to the White House brings, but not at the expense of their humanity. As our economy falters, America’s obsession over what a politician’s wife ought to look like sends the wrong message about beauty and financial pragmatism.

I too am guilty, as I found myself commenting aloud how Sarah Palin needed to wear her hair down. And my guilt was not assuaged when the next day I read that she’d been advised to do exactly that . Really, should the length and subtleness of Palin’s hair win votes?

It’s sickened me when the GOP made such a stink about Palin’s lack of retouching on her Newsweek cover . I don’t want any of these women – Democrat or Republican — to be "retouched." Who they really are as mothers, citizens, and females, is drastically more important to them, and to me.

Making the calculated decision to shape them into grandiose projections of perfection belies what this election is supposed to be all about: making changes we can believe in, and protecting our freedom to be you and me.

MzEll is a stay-at-home mom who writes, reads, knits, and tries to maintain sanity on a regular basis. You can read her blog at Cookiemonks.

POLITICS

Minister Of Divine Vibrations? Speculating on Oprah’s Future Role In The White House

By Elizabeth C.

AS OBAMAMANIA REACHES FEVER PITCH, talk now turns to who will serve in his cabinet. One name on everybody’s list: queen of all media Oprah (sorry, Perez), because she anointed him early as “the one,” risking her brand with the very people who made her one.

Yesterday’s The Daily Beast suggests that Senator Obama create a post specifically for Miss Winfrey. Crabby suggests that it’s always media folk who have probably never watched an hour of Oprah (the one exception being when they appeared), and who have read more of her press releases than her show scripts, who make such suggestions. So, with a special warning to Michelle to keep Her Highness away from the family quarters (because she does not play second fiddle to anyone), Crabby has come up with several potential titles she could wear in the new administration:

Minister of Divine Vibrations — Devotees of Oprah know that she is gifted with the power of special personal communication from on high. Along the way she has had the help of seers such as Marianne Williamson, Deepak Chopra, James Redfield, Iyanla Vanzant, Gary Zukav, Rhonda Byrne,Eckhart Tolle, Nate Berkus, Bob Greene, and Dr. Phil. As MDV she could be placed in charged of NASA, directing them to listen closely to those parts of heaven from which the latest messages are being signaled.

Chief Stimulant Spending Advisor — As one of the economic machines that feeds America’s fevered consumerist appetite, let’s put the business titan in charge of advising Americans how they should spend any future stimulant checks. America is in desperate need of an influx of spending, and O could advocate for the purchase of the many luxurious items on her annual “Favorite Things” list. Opraphiles, eager to please and look wealthier beyond their means, will rush out and max out their credit cards to feed their inner hunger while getting the economy chugging again. I can hear Oprah now: CHAAARRRGGGEE IT!

Public Image Director — This job usually falls to Machiavellian types like Karl Rove, David Axelrod, Lee Atwater, a group that Oprah would fit in nicely. All of them worked their magic as image makers to persuade the public that their man was the man for the job. But Oprah can teach these masters new tricks: she can introduce her ironclad confidentiality agreement to these political operatives, making sure that no insider ever authors a book to challenge the authorized word. Unless, of course, they start a snarky blog and poke good fun!

All of this talk flies out the window in the off-chance that Senator McCain — who adamantly claimed yesterday that he was "going to win it," — actually goes all the way. But even then Oprah will win, as she can say, "See? I told you! The Secret really works!

GOSSIP

Guy’s Stiff Upper Lip? Now Curled Into A Smile

By Elizabeth C.

WE AT CRABBY GOLIGHTLY ARE NOT SO NAIVE TO AS BELIEVE EVEN A SMATTERING OF THE CHATTER being fed to the media over the Madonna-Guy breakup.

We will not parse every word, every rumor, but we do feel that in this instance the pixs are revealing.

Thus, if you are anything like us and revel in making snap diagnoses based on information gleaned in nanoseconds, here are two photos for your insta-nalysis.

So, can we deduce Guy’s happy with the new arrangement? Here’s a quick thought: Anybody see recent photos of the kiddies?

ADVERTISING

By MzEll

TY PENNINGTON, A GUY’S GO-TO-HANDYMAN, has definitely been Trading Spaces.

Instead of building fantastical homes for TV wannabees, he now pitches – get this — baby formula, specifically Similac’s SimplePac.

Ty Pennington’s got milk! Yet while I’ll give you that dads feed babies, too, Ty Pennington has no children. So do we really need a “design expert” to revamp a can of formula?

In a word, no. The tone of both the video and print ads, as seen in Parents magazine for the Similac SimplePac is condescending. We’re supposed to believe that a childless man is surrounded by mothers bested by canned formula? Thus far in my experience, it’s pretty easy to measure out two spoonfuls of dried powder with a premeasured plastic cup. Or is Ty so good at getting the job done on deadline that he has tips on mixing up formula fast before an infant wails?

The ad’s funniest image is when the mothers-cum-groupies crowd Ty as he explains the stay-put scoop. The so-called mothers appearing in the spots seem dimwitted with their faux “a-ha” moments over snapping lids and firm grips. Honestly, Similac, could you have made motherhood seem more mundane and ridiculous?

Pennington actually does have a design degree, and worked as a carpenter before his stints on Trading Spaces and Extreme Home Makeover. But that doesn’t give him street cred to revolutionize baby formula bottles, and last I checked, baby formula seem an unlikely product to sell with sex appeal.

Ironically, the bottles that first popped into my head when seeing Pennington in these spots were those that led to his arrest last year for DUI. I know Ty’s apologized sincerely and has paid his dues, but the ads are evidence of Similac’s opaque condescension toward women.

MzEll is a stay-at-home mom who writes, reads, knits, and tries to maintain sanity on a regular basis. You can read her blog at Cookiemonks.

POLITICS

Rewriting History: If McCain Chose Judge Judy for V.P.

By SexyChattyCatty

AS SENATOR MCCAIN SURELY CRINGES FROM THE LATEST RANTS OF HIS RUNNING MATE SARAH PALIN, I’LL POSIT THAT HE’D be much better off in the race if he had chosen Judge Judith Sheindlin as his running mate.

No joking! She’s an experienced jurist, is whip-smart, and has a great New York accent that could help "balance the ticket." Her "tough broad persona" is no joke, and people like her anyway!

What else could a president want in a glass-ceiling-busting partner? Can you imagine Judge Judy in a debate with Joe Biden? He’d be toast. Judy wouldn’t need no stinking talking points cue cards, either. You think she doesn’t know the issues? You’re crazy! And as she’ll tell you in a minute, she didn’t get where she is because she’s cute.

She cows nor bows to no one. Judge Judy would not allow herself to be fed "code" words, would not be “intimidated” into incoherence by Katie Couric. And she’s no Kool-Aid drinker for partisans. A recent article in The Guardian quoted her as a friend of McCain — whom she calls a "a real meat-and-potatoes guy" — but nevertheless says she likes Obama.

Diplomatic! Smart! I have never heard Palin say one nice thing about Obama, ever.

John McCain, I’m sorry you’ve tried for the presidency so many times and failed. This could’ve been your year! If only you had chosen the right running mate. Judge Judy for VP!

SexyChattyCatty periodically comments at CrabbyGolightly.com on TV, America’s favorite snack food.

HEADLINES

Madonna And Her Immaterial Guy

By MzEll and Crabby Golightly

I USED TO THINK THAT MADONNA’s move from sexpot to intergalactic hippie after daughter Lourdes was born had finally humanized the diva. I thought that she had finally gotten over herself. After all, children are usually good at upending one’s vanity.

I thought Guy was a good match. The fake British accent Madge affected after marrying Ritchie and moving to London was ridiculous, but at least she seemed finally stable for her kids. Now that charade seems just another chapter in her book — or should I say documentary, as she is ever so fond of videotaping herself.

I was never a great fan of her Madg-etsy, though I respected her music and self-invention. This time, though, trading her three children’s near-normalcy makes me ill.

At 50, Madonna is really just too old for this current stunt. I’m not sure we care to see her newest metamorphosis if it means sloughing off responsibility for her children. As the chameleon changes colors yet again, it’s her children who have to adjust to the background. Perhaps Madonna doesn’t know herself at the core; more likely, she doesn’t have a core.

When the news of Alex and Cynthia Rodriguez divorce came out, I took the media’s bait that Cynthia was to blame. Now the news is reporting that none of the tales about Cynthia were true, and that Madonna and A-Rod are, in fact, a duo.

I wonder how many innings A-Rod has left before he strikes out at this game.

POLITICS

Obama Seals The Deal: Even Joe the Plumber Can’t Save McCain From The Can

By Elizabeth C.

SENATOR JOHN MCCAIN IS ONCE AGAIN IMPRISONED, THIS time by his presidential gambit going nowhere. It ended abruptly last night during the final presidential debate when Senator Barack Obama delivered a preternaturally calm perform while explaining why he ought to be the next president of the United States. And my guess is that even Joe the Plumber can’t rescue McCain from the can.

Senator McCain tried to change the inevitable, but all night it looked as though he was boxing at shadows. In one of his best lines, he told Obama, "I am not President Bush. If you wanted to run against Bush, you should have run four years ago." The line caused some titters from an audience sworn to silence.

The Arizonan even dared to mention former 60s radical Bill Ayers, one of the cast of questionable characters that have littered Obama’s campaign. Very calmly, Obama explained that he had served with Ayers on an education reform board financed by a former ambassador to Ronald Reagan, adding his own footnote to Republicans’ favorite hagiography. And without any evidence to the contrary, America has little reason to doubt him. He then flicked the topic away with the remark that McCain’s focus on Ayers "says more about your campaign than it says about me."

In short, the night’s overall picture was of that an outsized fighter bobbing and weaving around the taller heavyweight champ.

Unlike the first debate, when Obama felt the need to address every debate point McCain made, Obama oozed confidence and control. He discarded soundbites and opted for a heartfelt conversational tone while admonishing McCain that America’s youth aren’t a "special interest” but our future. He also said he "didn’t mind being attacked for the next three weeks," but that the public can’t afford four more years of bankrupt government.

In short, Obama ended the night without a scratch. And he didn’t gloat or flinch when, during his closing comments, he looked straight in the camera and delivered his knock-out blow:

"The policies of the last eight years, and Washington’s unwillingless to tackle the tough problems for decades, has left us in the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression. And that’s why the biggest risk we could take right now is to adopt the same failed policies and the same failed politics, that we’ ve seen over the last eight years and somehow expect a different result. We need fundamental change in this country and that’s what I’d like to bring…

It’s not going to be easy, it’s not going to be quick. It’s going to require all of us, Democratics, Republicans, independents to come together and to renew a spirit of sacrifice and service and responsibility. I’m absolutely convinced we can do it. I would ask for your vote. And I promise you, if you give me the extraordinary honor of serving as your President, I will work every single day tirelessly on your behalf and on the behalf of the future of our children.

His competitor congratulated him, saying, "Good job, good job, good job,” with a vigorous handshake. Which made McCain himself look forward to being sprung from his self-imposed sentence three weeks from now.

POP CULTURE

Brangelina’s Most Welcome "Controversy"

By MzEll

IF THERE WAS A CARD FOR LA LECHE LEAGUE MEMBERS, I WOULD TOTE IT. So it should come as no surprise that I am awestruck by the beauty of W magazine’s cover of Angelina Jolie nursing one of her twins.

In the picture, said to be taken by Brad Pitt himself, Angelina has one side of her night gown pulled down as though an infant is suckling just out of sight.

This latest publicity campaign is a continuation of Angelina’s boobie bravado, first seen when she revealed her nursing bra under a tank top in a photo with a wee Shiloh in People.

For me, though, this latest photo is salve to the provocative photographs that W published in 2005 of Brad and Angelina. Posing as a large and lustful family, the pictures came out when “Brangelina” was still a new – and unwelcome — public concept. The latest snaps of Angelina as the actual mother to Brad’s children comes off as a satisfied “I told you so” to the people who doubted their relationship in the beginning.

I also find it daring of the Jolie-Pitts, since breastfeeding seems perpetually controversial. While Angelina looks like the Madonna herself on her newest cover, Jamie Lynn Spear’s stolen breastfeeding pictures are considered pornography because she’s a minor. What is wrong with Americans’ view of women when Hollywood careers are built by women baring breasts, but a young mother can’t safely be photographed feeding her infant? As a spokesperson for La Leche League told the AP, there’s more skin shown on the red carpet than on Ang’s W cover, as well as by ordinary mothers when breastfeeding .

Will Angelina and Jamie Lynn help boost the breastfeeding cause? Already, nursing is reaching record numbers in the United States. That number would go higher if PETA had its way; the animal rights group recently suggested that mothers “donate” their breast milk to Ben and Jerry’s for ice cream.

So now we have the dueling messages that it’s pornographic for a 16-year-old to be photographed nursing her baby — but that the succor that supports life also makes great shakes? PETA’s psychosis only further feeds the misunderstanding of women’s bodies in our country.

Breasts are made to feed babies. Whether flashed on the red carpet, used as weapons of exaggerated activism, or to nurse the newborns of unwed startlets, that is their one, true purpose. The peace in Angelina’s W magazine cover attests to that.

MzEll is a stay-at-home mom who writes, reads, knits, and tries to maintain sanity on a regular basis. You can read her blog at Cookiemonks.

TELEVISION

Out-Of-His-World: Don Draper Gets Trippy In La La Land

By Elizabeth C.

WHAT LOOKING-GLASS HAVE I FALLEN THROUGH?

I’m filling in for the regular secretary of “Mad Men Minutes,” and can’t wait to meet this suave, alpha male named Don to entrance me with his sex appeal. Instead, I encounter some monosyllabic, shallow Dick who appears dazed and confused and unsure of who or where he is. Is he Don, Dick, Harry? But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Tonight’s Mad Men episode opens with the lovely kitten Jane lolling in bed while writing an ode to silver-haired suitor, Roger Sterling.

“You make me new with laughter. You make me old with wisdom,’’ she sings. But the word ‘old’ disturbs Roger, who’d rather not be reminded of their age difference. “It doesn’t matter how old I am, our souls are the same age,” coos Jane. Roger, amazed at his own good fortune, pops the question. Kitten’s in shock! “How do I know that I’m not going to eat another mushroom, and this room will disappear, and I’ll be back on the train to Trenton?”

Oohhh, that would give me the willies too Jane. But …mushrooms? My, how far we’ve come from Miz J’s Cherry Infusions last week! Crabby, alas, is stone-cold sober when taking in this scene. Someone has to bear witness to Roger assuring his prize that he will be hers to keep.

Meanwhile, Mr. Don Draper is standing poolside in La La Land as Pete informs him that TWA has misplaced his luggage but that the hotel has swim trunks. “There’s not going to be any swimming,’’ Don tells Pete. They’re here to get clients, not suntans. Get out to Pasadena and make someone feel special, Don directs. When Pete protests, the big man snaps, “You want to be on vacation, Pete, I can make that happen.”

As Don makes his way to the bar and orders an “Old-Fashioned,’’ along comes Viscount Willy who introduces him to a young girl who’s been visually snacking on him all afternoon. Don, meet Joy, apparent member of a nomadic grifters’ clique. But who cares when Joy offers Don something for free: sex.

And after taking a first pass at dalliance with Joy, Don takes the bait and accompanies her to Palm Springs where he too-easily falls in with these well-kept loaf-abouts in a gorgeous glass California home. (Crabby immediately wants in.) Despite his lecture to Pete, Don abandons business for pleasure. I guess that aeronautical slideshow on MIRVs makes Don think striving to be better is pointless.

But…are his new friends drugging him? Only minutes after arriving at the swank spread and having a drink, Don passes out. When he comes to, a Dr. Klaus is about to give him a shot of “medicine” but Don quickly recoils and says, “It’s okay. I just need water and some aspirin.” Joy sends everyone out, and Don asks, “Who are these people?” They’re friends,’’ Joy replies. “We’re nomads. We have an open door policy.”

Meanwhile, back in New York, Duck stops by to tell Roger he’s ready to hear “partner” talk. But the boss tells him he’s got a weak case. “Everyone thinks you’re a fine fellow,’ Roger says, “but If I were you, I’d go out there and make rain.” Get it, Duck? Rain? Hehe.

But Duck takes the advice to heart: he reaches out to his old European-based agency, suggests that it buy Sterling Cooper and make him creative director. The old boss says he didn’t know that SC was for sale. Oh, but it can be, Duck suggests: “Roger Sterling has a 20-year-old-fiancé and his wife’s lawyer not going to leave him a pot to piss in.”

Okaaay, playa. Just stay away from the Tanqueray.

Somewhere else in the agency, new guy Kurt candidly reveals that he’s a “homosexual…I make love with men not with women.” The news disturbs Ken who asks what bathroom Kurt uses, and catches Peggy off-guard (she’s going to a Bob Dylan concert with Kurt that night). A closeted Salvatore tries hard not to have any reaction.

During the night’s weakest moment, when Kurt goes to pick up Peggy for the concert, he gets all queer-eyed and cuts her hair to snip her “old school” look. Apparently in the 60s every gay man moonlighted as a hairdresser.

Let’s wrap this up in Palm Springs, where Don’s recovery is followed by dinner, entertaining chatter, and dessert (a la a romp with “Joy.”) The next morning, Joy reads The Sound and the Fury in bed, but confesses the sex is better than the prose. “I like sex. You do, too, I can tell,” she tells Don.

Later, as the two lounge poolside, Don witnesses the return of two sad children to this desert looking-glass (Yoowho?? Remember your name?), and then pensively studies his cocktail glass. Is… that …residue on the rim?

In the morning, still seeming under some spell, Don furtively makes a phone call and identifies himself as “Dick Whitman.” Regulars know that this means Don is regressing while hanging loose with the California cult. These people have slipped Don/Dick some sort of Mickey, and it isn’t clear when or if he’s going to wake up.