The strategy behind AVN's awards ceremony is a shrewd one. I went to the awards to "say goodbye to all that," as they say, and root for my favorite new starlet. As you walk to the grocery store you cannot understand why pedestrians are not peeling their clothes off and feeding off each other genitals. When such an overdose of porn enters your brain all else seems trivial. It made me drowsy, and turned me into a recluse. It wasn't good for the senses, I decided. When the year ended I quit this addictive, but ultimately unsettling line of work. Watching the occasional porn tape is one thing, but when you increase the yearly allotment by 2,000 percent, as I did by having to watch and write about as many as 11 porn tapes a day, you enter into spooky territory. And when I turned 18 I went straight to the Pussycat Theatre in Hollywood. Since the moment a Playboy arrived in my dad's mailbox, I'd been a distant enthusiast of porn. At the end of the year I voted along with 30 other AVN writers, editors and industry people on the porn professionals I'd spent so much time watching. What compelled me to drive 270 miles across the desert to stand around with a mob of slobbering creeps, watching scantily clad women with state-of-the-art bodies parade down this hall? In 1998, I reviewed approximately 300 porn tapes for AVN under the pen name Leopold Loeb. These inebriated outbursts continue every 30 seconds for an hour. "Best seafood," an electrical engineer shouts. An absurdly busty brunet approaches in a see-through dress, tiny starfish appliqués over her nipples. A mom and dad with their two kids are lost, they stumble by.
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Two hotel security guards stroll past, open what appears to be a utility closet and disappear inside: "Best Tag Team in the Closet," a software dealer yells to a roar of laughter.
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The frat pack are heckling all the porn stars and their escorts, inventing spontaneous categories for them (Best Leopard Skin Teddy, Best Feather Boa, Best Mascara). When standing on the same surface of the earth, a chunk of Vegas shag, the porn stars look even more remarkable than they do in their movies ("Lord of Asses," "Inner City Black Cheerleader Search," "Asswoman in Wonderland," etc.). The pack of frat boys in their 30s - drunk off their asses Las Vegas style - have left their slots and craps and are now standing in blissful if unruly distraction. headed toward the 1999 AVN Awards Show in the Grand Ballroom. Word has quickly spread through the lobby of Bally's Hotel and Casino that these voluptuous stripper-creatures in evening gowns who are undulating down the hall like they're under water are at this very moment - Jan.
With its editorial offices in the San Fernando Valley, where 90 percent of adult video is made, AVN has managed to carve out an influential niche as the insider voice of the flesh industry. (X-Rated Critics Organization) and FOXE (Fans of X-rated Entertainment), both of which take place in Los Angeles, and the Hot D'Or, out of France, but the AVN Awards are considered by all porno power people to be the bigĭaddy of awards shows. That focuses on all things pornographic, holds an annual awards ceremony in They should drop to one knee, cast their eyes down and concentrate upon all those six-inch stiletto heels, for it is time to pay homage to the porn stars.Īdult Video News, also known as AVN, a slick industry mag I wish this obnoxious brotherhood of men behaved like gentlemen. Lit from within, they morph into one another. Who are these turbo-girls? Is it Serenity, Shayla and Shay? Or is it Missy, Marilyn and Malitia? These must be the maidens the king will marry. And their enormous chests burst from the seams of the sheerest formal wear a female can remove from a hanger and slip over her body (gowns more sheer than water). The girls' hairdos are high and mighty, their skin, a hard glossy tan like shellacked wood. Some of the men are loud and obnoxious, yelling, "Show us your ass" others are silent and probably not breathing. | Three blond female porn stars approach slowly, arm in arm, smiling atĪ wall of gawking men.
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