Another airport, another jack and coke
Sitting here, at Newarks finest airport bar, I realize what an awesome opportunity I am presented with in every single city I visit. The opportunity arises because I am not a resident of whatever city I am in, and I feel unstoppable. Uncrushable. Unfuckwithable. Lets talk about New Brunswick, NJ. I think that will be the perfect example.
It started Sunday evening, with a shoot produced by Taryn Thomas, a scene I had the honor of guest directing. Yes, Taryn is back, and she is better than ever. She is so good in fact, that she and her man have started a production company, doing well enough to hire not only me, but also living legend Ron Jeremy.
Now this scene took place in an arcade, filled to the brim with fun games, bumper cars, and my personal favorite, pants off dance off game machine thing, I have no idea what it is really called. Jaylin Fox came in to do the scene with good old Ronny boy, and I had her looking around the arcade for the Sonic the Hedgehog game. When she couldn't find it, she called for the manager, and low and behold, the original hedgehog rolls out, and shows her a little game of his own.
Now for my site, I'm doing an entirely different kind of thing. I set up my arcade experience like a dream. A dream sequence that is.
It starts off in the parking lot, where I am seated on a curb, peeing, smoking a cigarette and drinking a redbull vodka. After a quick wipe, I head inside, and next thing ya know, I'm walking naked through the arcade, in your typical "naked at school" or "naked at work" weird dream that I'm sure plagues more people than just lonely little me. So I'm walking through the arcade and I stumble upon this suction cup cock sticking off one of the games. The cock is vaguely reminiscent of Ron Jeremy's dick, and I start fucking it right there in the arcade.
I pull it off the game, stumble a bit more, and stick it on a vending machine, which I fuck as well. I pull it off, walk through the arcade, kick a garbage can, and there it is. The light. These bright fucking lights that everyone always tells you to walk toward. So I do. I walk toward the light. Once in said light, I slap the cock down onto a bench sitting in front of the bumper cars, and start fucking away. Next thing you know, weird dream fashion, I start calling out Ron's name, and suddenly, bwam. There he is. Sitting next to me, and commenting on how strange it is that I should be fucking the mold of his cock when the real thing is sitting right next to me. He said that my site and my content don't mean dick if it isn't live, kind of like the situation at hand. And then he plays his harmonica for me.
You are my sunshine.
I toss and turn my head, try to wake from the dream, try to open my eyes and find myself in bed, burrito style in the covers, partially strangled by the cord of my forever plugged in Magic Wand. I toss and turn, try as I might, when the camera guy reveals that
This. Is. My. Reality.
My life is so fucking cool it makes me want to barf sometimes. After the Ron Jeremy shoot, we hoofed it over to Rutgers University to see if we could cause a little trouble. And by trouble, I mean I went streaking down Frat Row and stood at the bus stop with a fat PennyFlame.com sign handing out my DVDs to every bus driver that pulled into the station. I also partook of a very delicious fat cat sandwhich from one of the grease trucks, and quickly remembered how all the freshman gain that extra 15. The guy working in the truck said I looked pretty hungry, and I think he meant high.
For those of you who've never had a fat cat, its a ridiculously sized burger stuffed in a french roll with lettuce tomato mustard mayo and french fries. The thing is retarded. The size of my face.
Grease Truck Master: You ordered a lot of food for just little you. Why are you so hungry?
Me: hehehehe, I have no idea what you are talking about.
Grease Truck Master: No idea? My dear, you just ordered 4 fat cats, some falafel and the grapeleaves. You are telling me you don't know why you are hungry?
Me (laughing upon feeling the blood dripping from my eyes): Oh I know why I'm hungry! I'm just not eating it all! Its for my friends.
Grease Truck Master: I bet it was your friends green too eh? You are a funny girl, not enough people laugh around here.
Me: That's because they are in school and hate their lives. Broke motherfuckers can barely afford to buy a four dollar sandwhich that would keep me full for three days! I would be pissed too.
Grease Truck Man: You ARE funny!
(me licking this chicks ass that I met in South Beach. Fucking round yo)
Right then, someone else came up and ordered a fat cat, at which point the Grease Truck Master started meowing at the new guy, and the other chefs in the truck. I'm on the floor laughing, crying, trying not to crap my pants at the thought of there actually being a cat, mid slaughter, somewhere in that truck. The new guy ordering the fat cat didn't even crack a smile.
Oh I didn't tell you how I got high enough to order 4 fat cats, falafel and grape leaves did I? Good story.
So it turns out that by some magical power of word of mouth, I have quite the pothead following. Thank god. These are the kind of fans I love. They show up at the Fantasy Island booth, exclaiming that they can't buy the DVDs I am selling because they spent all their money on pot to bring and smoke with me. This is fine by me. I accept all forms of green payment.
So I'm at the Exxxotica convention, and low and behold a group of frat guys show up. One professing his love, the others holding it together enough not to embarrass themselves. The lover boy came back three times to see if I could go out to the parking lot to smoke weed with him. Of course I have time my man! That's all I got.
We hang in the parking lot, I've managed to bring well over 15 people outside to smoke weed with me, three different joints and groups of people mingling and turning into one big penny flame fest, and then the frat kids want me to sign their hats, shirts, bodies, every thing that I am willing to deface, they are willing to have defaced. We part ways. Everyone is happy.
The next day, I make Taryn take me to Rutgers so that I can give the bus drivers porno. I figure they have to deal with these pissy fucking college students all day, at least it will be something awesome to look forward to when they get home. So I'm standing at the bus stop, in front of the grease trucks, with my PennyFlame.com sign up as high in the air as my little arms can reach. Finally I decide its time for a break. Lets eat some food. I order my blt, (because one can only have so many fat cats a day), and set my sign up behind me so that people passing by can see my assvertising, and I can eat in peace.
This kid walks by, stops dead in his tracks, and says
Keith the Frat boy: Penny? Wait, I just, we just....
Me: Oh hey keith! How's it going? We got high in the parking lot right?
Keith the Frat boy: Yeah, and you, you remembered my name! Awesome! What the fuck are you doing?
Me: Oh, giving the bus drivers porn. You want some?
Keith: Yeah, for sure, wait, you're giving the bus drivers porn? Why?
Me: Bus drivers need porn too man. What are you doing? Where are you going in life?
Keith the Frat boy: uh, I'm going to class, but, uh, if you want to go blaze, we can totally go blaze.
Me: Naw, I'd love to but I have to make a flight back to Cali. Let Taryn get your digits so we can keep in touch.
Keith the Frat boy: Totally. Toooootally.
Needless to say Keith gave Taryn his number, I streaked down Frat row again in the day time, and completely missed my flight back to California. Not the first flight I've missed and not the last. Upon realizing how I will never make the flight, Taryn and I opted to go back to the arcade for an arousing game of naked puttputt golf, and some masturbating in the public bathroom. I know the owner so I pretty much do what I want, but that didn't stop civilians from walking in on me rubbing one out on the sink with mr. magic wand.
After masturbating all over the bathroom, and streaking through the arcade filled with staff, I decide its time to give Keith a little call and take him up on that marijuana oriented offer of a good time. He's dry, so he gives me LoverBoys number, who I briefly reconsider calling. I don't mean to be a bitch, but he was a little fanny, and I'm just a regular bitch. I don't want you to treat me any differently than any other girl you'd kick it with. So you put me on a pedestal, I probably won't want to kick it.
I call LoverBoy and he thinks it's a joke. He thinks its one of his little whore friends playing a mean joke on him. No sir, Penny Flame here, trying to buy weed off you, so I'd appreciate it if you would just take my word when I say I'm on my way back to your frat house, and will be in need of some cron.
He believed me then.
I show up at the house, and the entire group of guys, the whole fucking fraternity, had been taking bets on whether I would show or not. I'm greeted outside by LoverBoy, and led upstairs to his room. Where at least a third of the frat is waiting for me.
Me in my head: What the fuck is going on, this blunt isn't going to go around very far if the whole frat is smoking it.
Me Outloud: hey guys.
We start smoking, and sure as shit, in pairs, frat boys wander in, have a look at the freak Pornstar sitting in one of their brothers rooms, and look defeated as they realize they have to pay up on those bets I mentioned. At one point, there are six guys standing in the doorway, looking at me, unsure of what to say/do/think.
LoverBoy: Should we just do a big introduction? I mean, should we just announce that you're here?
Me: You're fucking tripping, I'm a regular bitch and don't need any fucking introduction. Keep your mouth shut.
Keith the Frat boy (who I've grown quite fond of in the brief time we spent together on the couch smoking weed): Yeah dude, chill the fuck out. The lady is trying to chill.
Me: yeah, we're chilling.
LoverBoy to the guys in the doorway who seem to multiply exponentially: Yeah guys, we're just trying to chill. Okay?
Me in my head: oh my fucking god, its time to go. This kid obviously has the wrong idea.
I stand up and get ready to run the fuck out of the Frat House. Not my first time running away from a frat, and not the last. LoverBoy is obviously bummed that I won't be sticking around the frat to drink with him, or suck his dick. Here is the text he sent me earlier that evening.
LoverBoy: we got a bottle!
LoverBoy: Its right in my hand, in the frat house.
Me: oh....I see.
The funniest part was when his homeboy Keith totally threw him under the bus. Loverboy was trying way too hard to holler at me, with lines like "so, what's it like?" and "do you orgasm all the time or fake it?" while Keith the Frat Boy didn't give a fuck and was dropping lines like "yeah, I ran into my x-girlfriend after and she noticed your signature on my favorite hat and asked what it was about, so I told her we went to a porn convention, and she looked at me and said "oh my fucking god" at which point I got to make her feel like a total asshole because it's not like you sucked my dick at the convention for Christ sake. So thanks Penny, I owe you, she felt like a piece of shit." I'm cracking up the whole time. That shit was pretty funny,
The funniest line?
Loverboy: So you want to come out drinking with us tonight Penny?
Keith: Oh, did you find someones ID to borrow so you could come drink with us?
Me: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH, that sucks
Loverboy: uh, no we uh, got a uh, bottle.
Keith: that's what I thought. Ouch.
So in the end, Keith, my new friend and funny fucker, gave me this dope brian Leonard jersey and made me promise to send him so naughty pix in it. Loverboy threw himself at my feet in a virgin on the alter kind of way, his body I just stepped over, unfortunately, and left for some other virgin of similar quality.
New Brunswick is cool, but PennyFlame.com is gonna be way cooler.
(Keith the Frat boy presented me with this honorary Rutgers Jersey....thanks K DIzzle!)