2004-07-24 - 11:48 a.m.

This is how screwed up my relationship with my mother is: the only way I could successfully get back at her for being so bitchy late me is by upstaging her. At her latest honoring ceremony I stood up after the speech she delivered and had everyone in tears in two minutes. She was proud, but I could also see the little "How dare you upstage ME?!" glint in her eyes. Ha ha.

Anyway, on to the far less screwed up topic of buying porn and sex toys. At this point, I deliver the warning that this episode of the Notorious RRZ show is not ready for prime time. If you are in any way offended by porn, sex toys, adult video stores, vibrators, or anything of this nature, go read someone else's diary. Thank you.

Last week, as I was packing up boxes of clothing and books, my Fag Hag came down from Dallas to visit. Some of you may be wondering exactly what a fag hag is. There are many who use the term to describe a woman who is in love with a gay man and who vainly hopes that one day he will realize he is merely confused and elope with her. True fag hags would object strongly to this use of the word, and instead refer to such women as "unfortunate creatures." No, a fag hag is a woman who loves the company of gay men, whose lists of closest friends is made up mostly if not mainly of gay men, who loves nothing more than going to a gay bar and hanging out with all her fabulous "girlfriends" (pronounced in the most ghetto way possible, preferrably with a figner snap or two) who call her diva and play with her boobs. Many people assume that fag hags never get laid and are afraid of straight men and hang around gay men because they are safer, but that doesn't gel with my observations, particularly of my fag hag. A true fag hag gets laid with a frequency comparable to many of her gay friends. I'd offer another theory: fag hags hang around with gay men because they love male attention, and they don't care whether that attention is sexual or not. Of course, it might just be that these women love hanging out with people who are, in general, accepting of just about everything about her, who are able to talk about culture and fashion and music and politics, as many gay men can and will do ad nauseum, and who aren't afraid to get out on the dance floor and shake it. Or maybe it's because we know where to get the good drugs.

For more information on fag hags, go to www.margaretcho.com. Remember: having a gay best friend does not a fag hag make, nor does enjoying the gay club scene. Fag hags do not choose their life; they are chosen.

Anyway, MY Fag Hag came down to play while I packed in San Antonio and we immediately headed over to Simi's for a shitload of Indian food. That's when she told me about her planned Farewell Friday for the asshole she had been seeing. While he may have treated her wrong, her enjoyment of the sex was such that she wanted to have one last night before she sent him the fuck away. While I wasn't sure how advisable that was, I could definitely sympathize.

She didn't want this to be any ordinary night of fun, though. She wanted an all out SexFest. She wanted porno in the background and all manner of toys to play with. She also wanted my advice, and that of Shkbob, on various positions and techniques, from advanced blow job maneuvers to what's the best starting point for first time rear entry. She wanted it all, and God knows I respected her for that.

Except, well, she was telling me all this in the middle of a very respectable Indian restaurant that I go to frequently, and my Fag Hag, like many fag hags, has never quite mastered the art of the inside voice. If you were cringing when you read the above paragraph, imagine how I felt hearing about it.

So, we eventually hooked up with Shkbob and all of us headed over to the Bennigan's of porn: Adult Video Megaplexxx, of which there are two in San Antonio. The Megaplexxx is a great place. There is no shame at the Megaplexxx, because the lights are to bright to be able to hide yourself. The floors are clean, the displays are tidy, and everything has been individually wrapped for your health and safety. You can buy yourself a DVD or magazine or browse through a small selection of costumes and props, with or without your lover. Really, it's a great service they provide.

This doesn't mean you don't make a quick check around the parking lot for any familiar cars.

Now, the only way to go to the Megaplexxx, in my opinion, is with a bunch of your friends, particularly if you are a woman or a gay man. You need friends with you there to laugh with. You need to be able to scream with someone when you see the 2ft-long dildo. You need someone to consult with about which color vibrator would look best with your skin tone. You need someone there to play, "Find the Funniest Porn Title" with (I still say that "Bi Dream of Jeannie" is the best porn title ever), not to mention which porn has the highest numbered sequel (we found Cock Tales 29, but then this other porn whose name I can't remember but that has "Ass" in the title had #36). You need friends because if sex is already a topic that's embarrassing, buying sexual aides is mortifying in the extreme, and the friends help you laugh shit like that off.

Our first goal was to find Fag Hag a vibrator that she could use during sex. I insisted that she get one of the ones that had straps. I had called it "The Butterfly" because the one I remember that the straps attached to these pieces that looked enough like butterfly wings already that the designer had colored it magenta and stenciled eyes and antennae on it. I said that such instruments were specifically designed so that everyone could have their hands free. What I didn't know was that there had been a diversification boom in this product, and not only was there a practical flock of Butterflies of every color, genus, and species, but there were little dolphins, turtles, ladybugs, kittens, and any number of small plastic creatures that a woman could strap to herself in order to break on through to the other side. These things put the "poke" back into "Pokemon," lemme tell ya. Of course, Fag Hag spent a good long time mulling over the menagerie before she decided that, while a normal woman could get by with a butterfly, a fag hag needs "The Bird of Paradise."

This, of course, was not the end of our evening, oh no. It was the beginning. She needed an additional Pocket Rocket, for reasons that I don't need to go into, and she wanted something designed for, well . . . ass play, yeah, pretty much, that's what she wanted. At this point, she suddenly had an attack of a disease that I never thought would have plagued her: modesty. While she was happy to proclaim to audiences at Simi's Indian Cuisine, The Macaroni Grill, Jim's Diner, and The International House of Pancakes that yes, indeed, she preferred doggie style above all other positions, in the middle of Adult Video Megaplexx she could not bring herself to say the word "vagina" in anything above a whisper. I have never seen anything more bizarre in my life. Surrounded by soccer moms and retired couples, she can say, loud as anything, "I'd let him treat me this way if he had a bigger dick or learned to eat pussy, but as is I need to break things off." Surrounded by dual entry dildos and strap-ons, she says, "So, you, um . . . you put this . . . you know . . . up . . . there?"

Yeah, I don't know either.

After a full array of props were selected, it was time to choose the porn. Now, Fag Hag is one of those women who can't go shopping by herself. She needs people to help her decide which outfit to buy. This apparently extends to her selection of porn, which is a problem seeing as, if you can't judge a book by it's cover, then you certainly cannot judge a porn. She kept asking Shkbob and I what we thought, an every time she did so, I reminded her that the last porno I saw was called "Pizza Boy" and that Shkbob doesn't care for porn (nothing against it, just doesn't do much for her). After eliminating everything with an anal reference in the title, she finally selected "Cock Tales 3" and we went home to preview the video.

Which didn't work. This meant we had to go back.

We went back the next day, and selected "Doggie Style" and "The Girl in the Blue Flannel." Although it was narrated by a very cute dachsund, "Doggie Style" had to be one of the most disgusting things I have ever seen. I understand that many men like anorexics with fake breasts, but I don't want to know those guys. also, the lighting in this video was terrible, serving to make eveyone looked jaundiced. And if there's one thing worse than seeing someone with jaundice, it's seeing close ups of people with jaundice, naked. Fortunately, "Blue Flannel" turned out to be a winner, with good-looking men and women whose fake breasts at least looked reasonable for their frames. Fag Hag felt that this was entirely appropriate for her Sex Fest, and returned to Dallas ready for one Hell of a last hurrah.

If this entry offended anyone, I do not apologize. I think talking about sex is one of the best things we can do to be healthy and happy. I will, of course, give a nod to my fellow feminists who argue that women who do pornography should be well-compensated and not treated as they are (e.g. hooked on drugs and mutilated by plastic surgeries), but I do not nod at those who say that pornography, in and of itself, is degrading to women.

After all, what women get degraded in the pornography that I bought that fateful night? The girl who gets the coffee?

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