(30,000 FEET ABOVE USA) — I used to live in New Jersey. I believe that gives me the right to make fun of New Jersians. I remember when I played keyboards for the legendary musical group, The Platters, and I’d push through airport after airport, on tour as the only white guy in history to play with these popular aging brothers.
The funny thing is, I always recognized people going to the “Garden State.” Honestly, I don’t think it was just the hair, long nails or attitude, I really have to say it was just a crowd full of pale, ugly fucks.

I know you’re thinking that’s just evil and rude. “Who the hell do this guy think he is,” you’re probably saying to yourself. I’ll tell you who I am. Just another ugly fuck, originally from Jersey, who used to ride that plane.

Today we have a different travel observation. Early this morning, as I stumbled my hung over ass through LAX, on route to Hollywood, Florida, I did not need to know my gate number. There’s an adult convention happening out of state this weekend. What does that mean? It means every hoochie momma, every webmaster and every perv business owner will be tying up every and all flights to the lower east coast region. The vast majority of the people involved in the adult world live in LA so that means there will be a lot less smog over the next few days to deal with as half the population is truckin’ to Florida.

As I make my way through the terminal, don’t tell me my gate number. No need. It’s like the Jersey plane–there are specific things about the travelers I’ll be able to pick up on.

>I’ll look for the excited-with-fear faces on the eighteen year old newbies who think their $50 a day signing rate for a company they know nothing about is a good deal as long as they get to meet Ron [Jeremy].

>Maybe I’ll look for the stretched and aged faces attached to some cottage cheese leg havin’ veterans who need to invest a little time in Beverly Hills, getting a few quotes on a new look.

>Perhaps I’ll look for the proud webmaster of a company I never heard of, but I know he’s in the biz because his t-shirt says something like “LIVE CUNTS ON CAM.” Do people forget that although they work in adult, they still live in the mainstream arena once and a while?

>Or perhaps I’ll look for the ‘I’m so excited to be at the convention, I’m wearing my badge from last year’ type of person. You think I’m kidding? They exist.

The scary thing is, I’ve now been in the business long enough to actually know all these people. So when I do arrive at my gate, I know I’m in the right place because these same people I mock, are now people I consider true friends and associates.

Today I’m dressed in my Real Boogie Nights button down with John Holmes sprawled across my stomach region. I wear the shirt in hopes that the size of his package will all of a sudden transfer to mine. Hey…I can fantasize [to be clear, it’s not about John Holmes or his package. I was hoping on a larger….oh forget it].

I approach the gate at 5:55am with that stupid, I work late nights look on my face and I’m greeted by adult performer and KSEX DJ, Lisa Sparxxx. I mumble something about coffee and scurry off. Moments later I’m back with an egg sandwich from Burger King and Lisa and I discuss the parties we would like to attend while at Internext in Florida.

Isn’t that amusing? The adult biz is like being in high school all over again [with a longer and more painful recovery time]. I partied until 3am last night, while working of course, and yet I couldn’t wait to figure out where I would add to the demise of my liver, 12 hours from now.

Lisa takes off to another gate as she is on another porn transporter with connections. I, being a good pre-planner, have a direct flight.

I’m still basically in La La Land when I get a scream from a familiar voice, “Hey…don’t tell me you’re on this flight.” It’s LA Jay from YNOTmasters. I love this guy. Totally down to earth and very funny. We do the manly handshake/uncomfortable hug thing, he introduces me to his boss and like the truly good business man that I am, I forget his employers name within ten seconds.

Another scream from behind my back billows out with a touch of rasp and an audio resemblance of someone who needs to fix their dentures, “how’d you get a direct flight you son of a bitch?” None other then, Steve Seidman. I observe his breakfast, proudly worn on his shirt, I listen to him whine about one of his newbies who is still sleeping and lacking intelligence, “like in the movie Renaissance Man, she’s one of the Double D’s. Dumber then Dog Shit.” By the way, Seidman currently has openings for talent interested in representation.

As I make my way to the gate, another familiar face, Kevin Moore of Stunning Curves says hello. He walks on to the plane with me and introduces me to AVN’s Paul Fishbein, who has a 3rd row seat in First Class. This was actually the first time I official met Fishbein and it’s good to see he brought his teenage daughter with him to the convention.

Me being one of the Double D’s myself, I sit in the wrong seat. This is one thing I can’t fuckin’ stand when I fly. A moron who can’t figure out where his seat is, even though it’s clearly labeled right above the seat. Yeah, that was me today.

Now it’s wish and hope time. I purposely picked a window seat so I could edit my adult stories, crop graphic photos and all that I desired was either a clear seat next to me and/or no kids or conservative feminist bitches.

I got my wish. A very nice man and his lovely companion sit next to me and instantly begin talking to me about the convention, so I knew I was going to be okay for my in-flight work. Eddie Courdy of InterTrans.com is his name. I haven’t gotten hers yet. All I know about her is he gave her a choice to sit in the middle seat and be next to me, but she declined. I don’t blame her. A bald headed chubby fuck wearing a picture of a man on his stomach isn’t a very appealing plane seat neighbor.

Within a short period of time, Eddie and I start talking parties. He’s one of the key sponsors in the Solid Gold event tonight. I don’t know what the fuck that means or where it is, but I do know I’ll be there, as well as where ever else I’m dragged. Supposedly the popular company GFY is having a jammer on a boat. I missed it last year but heard it was a blast. I’ll try to get to this one.

As flight 1963 comes to a close, I’m getting yelled at to shut this electronic device down. 1963, a good year for many, but half the girls on this plane, many who fuck for a living, weren’t born until 20 years later. Goddamn I hate getting old.

I’m mixed in the center of my porn underworld friends all weekend and lovin’ it.

More updates from Internext to come. Keep checkin’ back!