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As the editor of Forbes Vices, I oversee a team of contributors that cover the business of vice on the website. That includes the cannabis, gambling, firearms, smoking, drinking, and sex business. If you’re a writer with a track record of published work in established outlets covering those beats, drop me an email.
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“Homecoming” is an extremely weird and attractively disorienting new series on Amazon. What’s it about? That’s hard to explain. A woman with a troubled memory. A place that seems like it’s Florida, but who knows, really. A roomful of men who are looking for help that no one is sure they’re getting. It’s shot in two different ways that eventually converge. Julia Roberts is … curious, and Bobby Cannavale is … creepy. It seems boring at first, but, trust me, it’s not.
Buy "The Tumor" — my short story that’s been called "a masterpiece of short fiction."
This is goggle
If you’re a longtime follower of my work, you know that I regularly receive emails from men who are interested in becoming performers in the adult movie industry. That is thanks to a Forbes post I wrote, “The Hardest Thing About Being a Male Porn Star,” which has over 2.1M views. The only advice I can give the latest emailer is to maybe try a search engine other than goggle.
Buy "The Tumor" — my short story that’s been called "a masterpiece of short fiction."
Yesterday, I was ratioed because I suggested @DanRather should be president due to his ladybug tweet. I'd like to apologize and issue a correction. While perhaps Dan Rather should not be president, the next president should be elected based on his appreciation of ladybugs. 🐞 https://t.co/WzeVYt6niR
— Susannah Breslin (@susannahbreslin) November 25, 2018
Buy "The Tumor" — my short story that’s been called "a masterpiece of short fiction."
Happy gang anniversary! | Photo credit: Cali Cake Dealers
These days, it's hard to find content that hasn't been covered everywhere else already. Sometimes when I'm looking for stories, I search random hashtags on Instagram. For some reason, Instagram is a place where you can still find curious things that haven't yet been seen, which is what everyone wants at the end of the day. In any case, I started out searching #crips, that took me to a #cripcake, and eventually I found gold in #gangcake. This is my latest profile on my Forbes blog, and it's about a woman who's running her own business, out of her garage -- like someone else -- and she isn't afraid to make the kind of "illicit" cakes that other more timid bakers won't.
"'I grew up with people who have always been in the trap life, who have always been associated with gangs, or what not,' she says. 'I'm not afraid of that type of lifestyle.' So far, she says, she hasn't turned down a cake."
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Porn stars at the AVN Awards Show in Las Vegas, Nevada (Photo credit: Susannah Breslin)
I'm happy to report that Ghost Town Literary Magazine has published two short stories from my PORN VALLEY STORIES collection: "God Hates Porn/Porn Hates God" and "Praying for Kali." In the former, a porn fan seeks redemption. In the latter, a porn star prays for reincarnation. Finding homes for these stories isn't easy. They're often rejected, due to their content, despite the fact that they're literary, not salacious. Thanks to Chad Sweeney for having the balls to publish them.
"GOD HATES PORN, the sign read. A late Nineties Toyota Corolla sped past, honking its horn, and Mortimer Wisconsin spun his sign around, hoping the driver would see the other side. PORN HATES GOD, the other side of the sign read. Mortimer pumped his sign up and down in the air. "
Buy "The Tumor"! It's a terrifying short story and "a masterpiece of short fiction."
Tropical penis plants | Photo credit: Susannah Breslin
I had such an interesting time visiting Pornhub's new art installation: Pornhub Nation. It's 2069, and a porn company rules all. The DMV is a fetish club, the president is a porn star, and a property extracted from a penis plant can make you live for hundreds of years.
"[T]he most interesting portion can be found in a small and intimate room at the top of a flight of stairs. There, a visitor can wander around and peer through the glass at a series of what look like plants from some oversexed nature of the future. From the leaves grow large adult toys in the shapes of phalluses. The effect is terrarium like, and the mood, to use West's word, is 'ethereal.' The pieces are artfully painted and luminous in the blacklight. Who knew that something so lovely could be found on a Wednesday morning in a near-empty club where the art has been funded not by the National Endowment for the Arts, but by a company devoted to profits and which delivers graphic content to the masses?"
Buy "The Tumor," a terrifying short story and "a masterpiece of short fiction."
That Forbes post I wrote about Paul Manafort's ostrich leather jacket made an appearance on "All in With Chris Hayes" on MSNBC. Thanks to this lady for the tip.
Buy "The Tumor," a terrifying short story and "a masterpiece of short fiction."
It's called ostrich leather journalism (Image credit: Vickie Pynchon)
Yesterday, on the first day of Paul Manafort's bank and tax fraud trial, I wrote about the news that the man purportedly spent $15,000 on an ostrich leather jacket. I called a few of the stores that could have sold it to him, because I'm a journalist. Today, my ostrich leather investigative journalism was recognized by the Washington Post. Next stop: Pulitzer? Perhaps.
Buy "The Tumor," a terrifying short story and "a masterpiece of short fiction."
Mm, donuts. (Photo credit: Susannah Breslin)
When you wake up early and read that you can get a second dozen Krispy Kreme donuts for only $1, what are you going to do, not go? That's how I ended up spending an hour and twenty minutes standing in line at the Burbank Krispy Kreme this morning for this Forbes post. Was it worth it? Well, the confetti donut was very tasty. I had to get my hair done after that, so I brought the remaining twenty-three donuts to the hair salon, where they were well appreciated.
Buy "The Tumor," a terrifying short story and "a masterpiece of short fiction."
A porn star poses at an adult convention in Las Vegas, Nevada (Photo credit: Susannah Breslin)
In my ongoing quest to become increasing more luddite like in my takes, I critiqued the recent rise of sex doll brothels. In my theory, we are sunk in an uncanny valley between what we can imagine doing in our intimate lives with the help of technology and what the evolution of the machine will allow at this point. Given a choice between flesh or fantasy, I'll take flesh, thanks.
From "Why Sex Doll Brothels Won't Replace Real Brothels Anytime Soon":
Earlier this year, I took a trip through the hellscape that is the current state of virtual reality pornography, and what I saw wasn't pretty. Body parts disconnected from other body parts. Pixel-based faces aroused a sense of discomfort, rather than pleasure. And I had a hard time forgetting I was staggering around a startup's office with a large piece of machinery attached to my face as simulated men and women engaged in virtual erotic acts before my eyes.
Buy "The Tumor," a terrifying short story and "a masterpiece of short fiction."
Over on my Forbes blog, I wrote about my trip to Bill's Burgers. It's a roadside stand in Van Nuys, and Bill has been flipping burgers for a very long time. My ultimate conclusion is that some burgers are for dating and some burgers are for marrying, and you'll have to read the post to know which one Bill's is. I love LA, especially the Valley. It's so awkward, and sprawling, and my god is it hot right now. As I drove home, there was a lone cloud in the sky hovering over the mountain ranges in the distance. Where is it now? I haven't the faintest idea.
Buy "The Tumor," a terrifying short story and "a masterpiece of short fiction."
The other day, my friend Vickie Pynchon and I went to the Annenberg Space for Photography, where we were delighted to find StoryCorps had set up a converted Airstream trailer in which visitors were invited to record their stories. Vickie interviewed me about my 20-plus years writing about the adult movie industry: "Interview with Porn Journalist." That interview is now archived at the Library of Congress.
Buy "The Tumor," a terrifying short story and "a masterpiece of short fiction."
My ongoing admiration for Merriam-Webster's approach to social media continues, and I was delighted to find that I got quoted on the website again. This time is extra special because the word is "exertion" and the quote is from my recent story on virtual reality porn for The Atlantic: "Porn's Uncanny Valley." Read this blog post if you want to hear about my previous relations with this fine dictionary, which includes the use of the word pique and an ode to gaslighting.
Get my latest digital short story "The Tumor." It's been called "a masterpiece."
Image via Valley Relics Museum
I've got a new short story online: "The Flesh Eaters." It's about a woman who works in a vagina factory and her quest for love. Thanks to Construction and fiction editor Maggie Waz for publishing it.
A year ago, she found her niche: masturbators. The name sounded like something for which you should spend your Sunday mornings confessing, but in fact it was just her and four other girls in the far corner of the warehouse bent over a never-ending supply of thermoplastic rubber that had been molded to resemble the vaginas and assholes and entire rear ends of famous porn stars.
Buy a copy of my digital short story "The Tumor" -- it's been called "a masterpiece."
Over at Forbes, I wrote about how I addressed a week-long tension headache with a $40 cannabis candy bar. Because why not? In California, it's perfectly legal. All I had to do is walk in the store and fork over the cash, no medical marijuana card required. My bespoke bar contained very little THC and an equivalent amount of CBD. Needless to say, it worked.
From "I Spent $40 to Get High From a Cannabis Candy Bar":
By the second hour, I did start feeling the effects of the THC. I'd taken such a small dose that it was almost imperceptible, but it did become more significant. I wasn't stoned. I was just ... more relaxed. Well, I was a little high. Everything seemed a bit more amusing, and the things I'd been obsessing over earlier in the day were passing by me like a deadheading train.
Buy a copy of my digital short story "The Tumor" that's been called "a masterpiece."
I wrote an article about virtual reality porn for The Atlantic: "Porn's Uncanny Valley." This is the second time I've experienced VR porn. It certainly is strange. In this article, I compare VR porn to real porn -- more specifically, how being immersed in VR porn compares to being on a porn movie set. One thing that you don't get with virtual reality, at least not at this point, is the smells. In reality, there are bodies, exerting themselves. In the virtual world, it's just bytes and programming.
On the computer screen before us, a 3-D rendering of a naked man was stomping around a virtual apartment. “I’m now in the body of a black, male performer with a 12-inch penis,” Adam announced. The virtual apartment’s decor was banal: a white coffee table next to a sofa, a bowl of oranges on the kitchen counter, an Oriental rug on the floor. But in the main room, the real porn star Casey Calvert had been digitally scanned and recreated as a digital doppelgänger. She was dancing around a stripper pole, grinding to the ominous chords of Metallica’s “Enter Sandman.”
Buy a copy of my digital short story "The Tumor" that's been called "a masterpiece."
I used to live in Los Feliz. Now I live in Burbank. Every so often, I go back to Los Feliz, and the other night I went to Skylight Books. My favorite thing is the bookstore's Art Annex. It's a few doors down on Vermont and stocked with graphic novels, art books, screenwriting books, photography books, and chapbooks. It's like the creative, mutant, smaller twin to Skylight. While there, I happened across a new book by Dave Cooper, a longtime favorite artist of mine. He's a maker of what could be called comics and a kind of psycho-surrealist. I first fell in love with his work through Ripple, which is a crazy magical work that forces you to think about the body, and sex, and human relations in all kinds of mind-bending new ways. A few weeks ago, when I was at Wacko, I spotted an Eddy Table doll, so I figured something was afoot. In any case, I was delighted to discover the latest work by Cooper at the Art Annex: Mud Bite. What's Mud Bite? It's hard to say. It's the story of a guy with bulging eyes, and a girl with a skin problem, and a river of mud. And there are scary bugs, too. It's a joy to encounter -- filled with curious and awful things, moments of bizarre beauty and strange twists, and oddly enlightening to your soul. Check out the trailer for "The Absence of Eddy Table." Holy cow!
Buy "The Tumor" -- my latest digital short story that's been called "a masterpiece."
