Jacaranda Season
It’s jacaranda season in Los Angeles; pictured: Sherman Oaks. For more of my photos, follow me on Instagram.
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It’s jacaranda season in Los Angeles; pictured: Sherman Oaks. For more of my photos, follow me on Instagram.
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This short story was written by me and originally published in Opium Magazine in 2003.
When all the men were gone, that was when the women realized they were sorry. It had been a long time coming, the women saw in hindsight. One by one, the men had left, the woman recalled. The men had their briefcases at their sides, their suitcases on their leashes, their luggage strapped across the widest parts of their shoulders. "Goodbye!" the men had called out to the women. The women should have known. At first, the women had been happy. Now, they had time to shop at strip malls, and get their nails polished in pink or peach, and talk to each other about each other across the freed up phone lines. They had all the time in the world in a world without men. "Hello!" the women screamed out to each other across the deserted city streets. Inside their homes, the women cooked TV dinners for one, and sat down on toilet seats without checking first, and figured out how to use all the remote controls. Eventually, they even got into the White House, and learned how to kill cows for one another, and changed each other's tires by the sides of the roads. A long time after all the men were gone, when the women had settled down into their lives at last, the women sat there like that for one day, and they were content. The next day, though, the women began to fidget, and several of them scratched their heads, and a couple of them yawned. In the darkness of their closets, and the isolation of their cars, and back behind their mildewing shower curtains, the women whispered to themselves, "Those men, they weren't so bad." And the women began to wonder if the men being gone was not such a good thing, after all. Too late, the women decided, it was.
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A shot of strip club Jumbo’s Clown Room in Hollywood, Calif. For more of my photos, follow me on Instagram.
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Image credit: Lanee Bird
In this week’s edition of The Reverse Cowgirl, my Substack newsletter: human furniture is fun, an intimacy coordinator reveals all, the wife of the Gilgo Beach killer speaks, the founder of OnlyFans pivots, the CDC issues body hair guidelines for women, and more. Read it and subscribe to get it delivered to your inbox.
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I guess I have sort of a strange relationship to Desolation Jones, because I was the inspiration for one of the characters in it: Filthy Sanchez, a kind of Los Angeles porn czar who says things like: “Everything goes better with bukkake.” I believe that I only ever read the first comic in this series, so when I saw that the first six had been republished in a single volume, The Biohazard Edition, I had to buy it. The quality of the book is great — oversized, colorful — and I enjoyed reading the full narrative. There was also a short return of Sanchez at the end that I hadn’t been aware of previously. The story itself is about a man who has PTSD from having his brain fucked and is on a quest for some Hitler porn. If you like your comics weird and filthy, this one is for you.
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The bodega breakfast sandwich at Bar Sinizki in Atwater Village is phenomenal. I highly recommend it. It’s $19.
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A panel from a series of comics I created some years ago by manipulating photos I took on an adult movie set.
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A 2021 shot of the Cinerama Dome in Hollywood, Calif. For more of my photographs, follow me on Instagram.
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Cool to see a photo of mine in Charles Saatchi’s 2015 book Dead: A Celebration of Mortality. I found it on eBay.
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In my Instagram Stories for Father’s Day, I posted a few links to my late father and his work, including his New York Times obituary, my favorite thing he ever wrote, his Rothko biography, Hilton Kramer’s New York Times Book Review review of my father’s Rothko biography, and my father’s Rothko biography research archive at the Getty Research Institute. It’s been almost 30 years since my father died, and I’ll miss him forever.
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A neon green curved building in Los Angeles. To see more of my photographs, follow me on Instagram.
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Art Monsters by Lauren Elkin was my first DNF (did not finish) of the year. I really tried, but I just could not get through this. There’s a certain type of woman writer who seems pathologically afraid of taking a position, determined to privilege the work of others above her own work, and whose lived experienced appears to be largely based on content she’s absorbed through a screen. Riffing polysyllabically on the contradictory nature of art and literature isn’t the same as art criticism; it’s just making noise. This book — as far as I made it — read like a senior thesis that got a book contract. Maybe it gets better. I’ll never know.
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Image credit: Jamie Colette
In this week’s edition of The Reverse Cowgirl roundup: Barbie eats Ken, an OnlyFans model gets savage, Sydney Sweeney wants to share her bathwater, a photographer shoots Japanese love hotels, Michael Fassbender talks fisting gloves, and more. Subscribe to get my newsletter in your inbox weekly.
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Gigolos star Nick Hawk, Las Vegas, Nev., 2013 | Image credit: Susannah Breslin
In the process of researching something I started writing for my newsletter but didn’t publish, I came across this 2013 post from Forbes.com that I wrote when was on a “XXX safari” in Las Vegas, Nevada, at the porn Oscars.
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I learned a few things about journalism doing my series on the porn blitz in Vegas this month, and here they are, in no particular order.
TIP #1: Get the right tools
For the last few years, I've been carrying around those composition books to take notes. That's got to stop. They're too big. If I've got too much stuff going on, I've been known to stick the composition book in the back of my pants. Not my back pocket. Between my back and the inside of my waistband. Not a good look. I need smaller notebooks so I can put them in the pockets of these pants I've been wearing as my "journalist pants" that look like I'm on a safari, only in this case it was like a XXX safari.
I also need to start using the neck strap for my camera. I spent my time in Vegas pulling my camera in and out of my bag. I should probably get over my fear of the neck strap breaking and killing my camera.
Speaking of cameras, I need a new one. Related: If anyone found my lens cap in Vegas, let me know.
I also need a proper bag. I used a bag I think I bought at Payless. It was for shopping at the mall. Not writing stories.
TIP #2: Figure out what you can handle
Before I got to Vegas, I thought I would maybe go back and forth between the convention and the media room and post LIVE FROM THE FRONTLINES. That didn't happen; although, I did walk around that entire first day with my laptop in my bag. Not only did I not post LIVE FROM THE FRONTLINES, I realized that I'm too slow for that. Or in this case I was, at least.
The other big thing was that I was adding taking photographs into the mix. I think I did this because I've been a journalist for 15 years, and I am looking for a new challenge.
At this point, I don't really have any big hangups as a journalist. For example, at one point, I was at the convention, and I was looking for this gigolo. I'd seen him on a panel. He sat at the front of the room with another guy, and the theme of the panel was, "A bunch of people have crossed over from adult to mainstream, but what about people who have crossed over from mainstream to adult?" These guys were supposed to be examples of that. The gigolo is the star of a Showtime show called "Gigolos," and the other guy was a rock star who ended up on "Sex Rehab with Dr. Drew" and then made a celebrity sex tape because "that's what you do."
Anyway, the gigolo's name is Nick Hawk. (That's him in the photo at the top of this post.) He has an entire line of adult products. When Nick was on the panel, he had a bunch of boxes sitting next to him with his products in them, and at one point he said of creating a product that is a reproduction of a part of him, "That was one of the biggest excitements of my life."
After that, I kept looking for Nick, but I couldn't find him. I was standing against a wall because my back was killing me from all the stuff that I didn't need that I was carrying, and then I looked to my left, and there was Nick Hawk, and he was about to walk into the men's room, which was apparently what I was standing right next to.
"HEY," I yelled at Nick, without thinking. For some reason, this was the highlight of my experience as a journalist in Vegas. That I am a person who is willing to shout at a gigolo going into the toilet in order to get an interview. There is no shame in my game. Not at this point.
I hope all young women journalists can learn from my model. That you should always yell at men you want to interview, regardless of their occupation or proximity to the lavatory, because if you don't, you might not get an interview with them, and then you'll be the journalist who went there and got nothing. Which isn't a journalist at all. That's just something else.
"I'm proud to be a gigolo," Nick told me after he came out of the bathroom. "I'm not sure I'd be proud to be a porn star."
TIP #3: Seek help from people who know what they are doing
I really liked going to Vegas because it reminded me who I really am. The hardest part was the taking photographs because my knowledge of photography is limited. Which is an understatement. So the photography stuff I did was time consuming, and sometimes it didn't come out right because I didn't know what I was doing.
When I got home, I made an appointment to hang out with a guy who's a photographer. We sat in a cafe, and he told me how cameras work, and we looked at some of my photos from Vegas that were still on my camera, and we talked about what was right about them and what was wrong about them.
Then we wandered around outside and took some photos. It was cold. The stuff I photographed outside was pretty boring. The stuff in Vegas was way more interesting.
The task he left me with is to do more things like Vegas. And get better. And I think if I can do those things, I'll figure out more who I want to be or whatever I'm becoming.
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A zombie on an adult movie set in the San Fernando Valley. For more of my photos, follow me on Instagram.
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On June 22, 2025, at 7:30 pm, I’ll be performing in The Non-Fiction Show, a variety show featuring folks sharing true stories on unexpected topics. The show is at Nico’s Baby Battista in Atwater Village. Tickets.
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