An excerpt from my novel

He was standing in the house on the hill, and he was watching the girl having sex with the machine, and he was thinking: Is this all there is? Is this it? Has my life come to this? He sat down on the purple velvet fainting couch behind him. That looks great, honey, he said to the girl. He didn’t want anyone to know what he was thinking, sitting on this purple couch that wasn’t his, wondering what the hell he was doing, what he had done to take him to this place, to this house, to this hill, to this day. Whirrrrr, the machine said, like it was doing something really important, and the engine kept driving the metal bar with the dildo attached to the end of it in and out of the girl. In the swing they had hung from the ceiling that morning, the girl tilted her head all the way back, her shiny brown hair fell loose, and her glossy pink lips parted. Oh, the girl said, as if she had thought of something terrifically important, although what that was she did not say. He blinked, then remembered the girl was an idiot. He had found her on the internet, a few days before. The background of her MySpace page was deep purple and covered with clouds. A love song had started playing. Under Interests, she had put: I love networking and hanging out with friends, going to lunch and shopping at VERSACE! Going to Baptist and Evangelico churches with Harmony (REAL churches), getting stoned and writing down the lyrics to rap videos because they are so hilarious, and laughing at people who take porn too seriously! It's Fucking porn people. WE ALL DO IT!!! PS I like gang-bangs :) For a minute, he had sat at his desk, staring at the smiley face the girl had put at the end of that sentence, wondering what she had meant by that, what she was thinking when she had put that there. In her photo, she was standing on a balcony in a pale pink negligee, holding tight to the railing behind her as if a great gust of wind might blow her away. Something about the girl made him want to tear out his eyes and do unnamed things to her at the same time. Women had that affect on him.

-- from HAPPY

"They Shoot Porn Stars, Don't They?" Crawls Its Way Across the Globe

Recently, for reasons that remain unknown, my story on the adult movie industry and the recession, "They Shoot Porn Stars, Don't They?", which I originally wrote for a publication but pulled in a fit of pique and decided to self-publish online for self-destructive reasons known only to my subconscious, has been trawling its way across the non-English speaking interwebs.

First, some French-speaking Canadians wrote about it. I understood the "superbe" part, no problem. One of my Canadian friends translated it for me, but the only part I remember is that they said I call a cat a cat. That's RIGHT, dammit. If I see a cat, I call it a cat. That's the kind of woman I am.

Then, some Germans got a hold of it. Somebody told me what they said, but I can't remember. Still, I learned a new word: "Pornoindustrie." Use that in casual conversation, win 10 points.

Finally, some Netherlandians who write for a site called Jaggle picked it up, which I guess is a pretty popular spot, as it sent a buttload of traffic. I don't know anyone who speakuzuh dah Deuytch, so I have no idea what it says, but how could you go wrong with "Mooi verhaal: iets met schieten enzo"? Nuff said.

Anyway, what did we learn here? No idea. Whatsoever.

[Image via This Isn't Happiness]

In My Other Life, I'm a Fashion Blogger

When I'm not complaining about my ongoing kidney stone saga, I spend my time contemplating all things fashion. So much vapidity, one can lose oneself in it.

On The Frisky, my post on a fashion layout that could put your eye out went viral.

I also wondered if Jimmy Choo ripped off a fashion blogger.

And then there was this guy, who pretty much ruined those heel-less Nina Ricci boots for me.

Elsewhere, Gaultier's fashion week show in Paris blew my mind. (Make sure to click on "View Full Screen" for full glory.) Valentino dazzled but was a bit inconsistent. And Dior was, well, Dior. Pat McGrath's faces were, as usual, awe-inspiring.

Recently, Jill Sherman, who runs one of my favorite fashion blogs, Trend de la Creme, blogged about being diagnosed with MS. Jill is awesome! She encourages you to donate to the National MS Society. Do it.

Over on my Twitter feed, I do a regular tweet called "Your Daily Shoe Porn." It just features a link to some fanastical pair of shoes or the other. Probably, I should turn that idea into a blog. Probably, I won't. Check out these Nicholas Kirkwood for Rodarte Corroded Brass Pumps. A mere $2,393! Sigh. A girl can dream.

Press Rewind One More Time

Check out my buddy Vinny B.'s latest music mix, delivered just for you readers: "Thump." He's got five on it! True story.

Welcome to Hell

Still dealing with this kidney stone bullshit. Move along. Nothing to see here but a pissed off chick who's been on the sofa for way too fucking long.