August 26th, 2003

flavored with age

Speaking of the log

I just self-censored it for the first time. I was actually going to write a different entry, which I thought was pretty funny, but I didn't because it was so over-the top and offensive. I suck.

Meanwhile, here's a little bit I've been kicking around forever. It's not long enough to make a full entry, but it's an idea I've always gotten a kick out of.

Open on the set of a gay porno film. We see a some hot action as the star, a mustachioed young fellow, throws it to another stud. After his climax, the director cuts the action, giving the actors a chance to prepare for the next scene.

FLUNKIE: Okay, places everyone..."The Pudmaker", scene 12, take 3. Continuity...aaaaand...action!

As he swings down the clapper, the mustachioed porn star, Butt Reamers, bends over and exposes his waiting asshole to the blond stud. Cut to a small hallway where they and several of the other actors, now in street clothes, stand in front of a sliding window marked "Payroll". A surly, middle-aged former porn star is dispensing paychecks. Butt's turn comes and he walks up to the window.

MS. PEAKS: Who should I make this out to, hotshot?

BUTT: Butt Reamers.

MS. PEAKS: Very funny. I'm laughin'. Now really who should I make this out to?

BUTT: Really Butt Reamers! Jesus!

Sniggers are heard from the other actors.

BUTT: What the hell's so funny? Jerks.

Later, Butt is in his modest apartment on the cordless phone. He is on the line to the Home Shopping Network.

BUTT: Yes, I'd like to order the Snow White and the Seven Dwarves commemorative plate set. On Visa, please. Sure. the name on the card is Butt Reamers. Sure. That's B-U-T-T...what are you talking about? That IS my real name. What? What the fuck are you laughing at?

Later that night, Butt is standing in line outside a swanky, hip nightclub, waiting to be admitted. Finally he faces the bouncer at the velvet rope.

FAT LOU: That'll be eight dollars cover, sport. And I'll need to see some ID.

BUTT: Sheesh. Okay, here you go.

FAT LOU: Butt Reamers, eh? Give me a break. Get outta here before I confiscate this.

BUTT: What? What are you, some kind of a wiseass?

On the way home from the club, Butt's Firebird is pulled over by a traffic cop.

PIG: You were going 63 in a 45-mile-per-hour zone, sir. Can I see your license and registration, please?

BUTT: Er, sure thing, officer. Sorry about this.

PIG: What is this, a joke? Okay, pal, get out of the car and spread 'em. I'm taking you in.

BUTT: What the fuck is going on here?!?!?