Immigrant Song » Sex

Sex Problems: Meeting Nina Hartley

Rachel Arieff — Sun, 30 May 2010 16:37:27 +0000

I wrote a post that’s a little long; it’s about the day I spent with the charming and fascinating Nina Hartley.

On Some Nights, Nowhere Is Safe

Rachel Arieff — Sat, 22 May 2010 20:19:18 +0000

The other night there was a big Fútbol game and the whole world had gone to hell. It was late, the apes had taken over the streets, and I had to find me a taxi and get the fuck out of dodge. As you can see, I’m a huge Fútbol fan. Call me crazy, but I don’t like sharing the streets with gangs of hooting, hollering, hormone-pumped drunken men draped in banners.

But it was as if the taxi drivers knew in advance that the city would approach Armageddon-like status and had decided to take the night off. On a street normally full of taxis, it was an absolute desert for an eternal ten minutes.

As the gorrilla howls got louder and closer, a green-lit taxi miraculously appeared and I gratefully jumped in. This is the conversation that followed. [Italicized text is internal conversation to myself; ****** represents long, leaden silence.]

ME: Good evening. Take me to ### , please.

PAKISTANI TRAVIS BICKLE: [Turning around in his seat, smiling with an unnerving familiarity, and fixing me with a penetrating stare] Sure.

[The driver turns back to face the wheel. 15 uncomfortable seconds pass]

Are you a natural blonde?

ME: ?¿?¿

Holy shit, did I hear that correctly? Did he just fucking ask me if I’m a “natural blonde”?

************

Are you a “natural” sexually harassing creep? A “natural” sociopathic, borderline-rapist asshole?

Stop the taxi. I’m outta here, Motherfucker.

But if I get out, I’ll be stuck on the streets with packs of wild soccer barbarians! And who knows what’ll happen then?! FUCK!

******

ME: No, I’m not a natural blonde. In fact, my hair is entirely gray [I really stressed the word gray].

Hopefully that’ll be enough of a boner-shrinker of an answer that I’ll have a chance of getting home relatively unraped.

P.T.B.: Oh. I thought you were a natural blonde.

ME: You know what? Fuck this guy. I’ll try to enjoy this. What about you? Are you a “natural blond”?

P.T.B.: No, I’m not. “Negro.” My hair is black.

ME: Mm hmm.

P.T.B.: But [touching the back of his head] I’ve lost most of it already. It’s fallen out from all the hot water in this country.

ME: Hot water?

P.T.B.: Yes, the hot water.

ME: You’re saying that hot water causes hair loss?

P.T.B.: Yes. In my country, I always washed my hair with cold water. But here, the water is too hot, and it makes the hair fall out.

ME: Nobody ever informed this guy that in this country there are pretty simple manual controls to regulate water temperature? Nah, better not bring it up. You don’t want to open that door to conversation about personal showering experiences.

Interesting. I did not know that.

P.T.B.: Where are you from?

ME: Canada. [That's my standard, trouble-avoiding answer.] Where are you from?

P.T.B.: Pakistan.

ME: Mm hmm. [That was the only response I could come up with. What else could I say? "Hey, that's some awesome attempted car bombing your countryman pulled in Times Square!" Or "How far you've come from your little hometown in Pakistan, to being sexually inappropriate to women trapped in the back of your cab on another continent. Your folks back home must be so proud!"]

[Thankfully long silence, during which I see that the streets have calmed down.]

ME: You know what? You can just let me off here.

P.T.B.: You sure?

ME: Oh, yes thank you. Like hell I’m gonna let you see where I live, Motherfucker.

———————

I know: it’s a little unfair to call this guy the “Pakistani Travis Bickle”, because Travis Bickle actually risked his life to restore a little girl’s honor that had been taken from her by sexual predators.

Really, the only thing they had in common is that they both drove a taxi.

And, of course, they both lost their hair.

Sneak Preview of Nina Hartley Interview!

Rachel Arieff — Tue, 18 May 2010 05:27:26 +0000

www.youtube.com/watch?v=7SIffzp4J88

My interview with iconoclastic sex goddess and educator Nina Hartley will be published in the upcoming (June) issue of Popular 1.

I was very much looking forward to interviewing Nina, whom I had the pleasure of meeting in 2006, and she by no means disappointed. Highly conscious, articulate and funny, Nina gives great interview. She talked for nearly an hour about everything from her 25+-year film career to her personal sex life to science, religion and politics.

Be sure to pick up a copy when it hits the newsstands; this is going to be a great issue.

Now I’ll Never Be Elected President

Rachel Arieff — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 14:27:16 +0000

www.youtube.com/watch?v=atYhw5m0Di0

Those darned paparrazzi. NEVER let them into your dressing room after the show!

“Valid for One Blow Job…”

Rachel Arieff — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 12:17:41 +0000

I used to do this bit in my comedy show where I give coupons to the audience members, guaranteeing “One blow-job by a well-experienced person in heaven.” In spite of how it may sound, it was actually an intelligent piece of social commentary, but I’m not going to get into it right now.

I don’t do that bit anymore, but I still have a million of these coupons laying around my house. Today I needed to transfer money to someone. I needed to write down their account info, so I grabbed the first scrap of paper I could find… which was one of these coupons.

You see, I hate wasting a whole sheet of clean white paper for just a few numbers. It’s part of my perfectionist, anal-retentive personality. So I wrote the information on the blank side of the coupon.

Then I went to the bank. Bank account numbers are very long, so instead of reading it to the teller, I just handed him the paper and let him go about his grey, boring job punching out the name and numbers into the computer… Ho, hum… la dee dee da da… I look out the window, making a list of the errands I need to get done… should I go to my yoga class today? Will I take a bike or walk? Is it gonna rain again? I should really eat more fruit…

“Is there anything else you need?” The bank teller’s voice, strangely tight-sounding, wakes me out of my daydreams. I look at him and see he’s trying to choke back laughter. I’ve never seen a bank teller’s eyes sparkle like that. Ever. They certainly weren’t doing that when I walked into the bank.

“No thanks. ‘Bye now.” I let him keep the coupon. Why not, if it makes him happy? Besides, you can bet your sweet ass I’ll never show my face there again.

Notice Something Strange About this Picture?

Rachel Arieff — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 18:53:22 +0000

Don’t get me wrong: I do appreciate the thought and effort. Look at all the work that went into that Nativity scene. The lace, the greenery, the quality figurines… Beautiful. In fact, I would say the whole thing was absolutely lovely… if, just on the other side of the curtain, there weren’t a number of men receiving hand jobs.

Let’s be honest: would the Virgin Mary and the Little Baby Jesus really feel comfortable in that kind of environment? I know times are hard, and these are humble people. But seriously, how could Joseph allow his woman and baby to end up in a place like that?

And we all thought a manger was bad?

And what’s with the bird cage? Is that supposed to be part of the scene? Half-in, half-out, it’s totally in limbo. That bird doesn’t belong with Jesus, Mary & Joseph, and he doesn’t belong in… um… the sex industry.

Poor little displaced bird. He’s the real victim here. This’ll be a Blue Christmas for him, ’cause he’s left looking like a total schmuck.

Merry Christmas.

I Blame Music

Rachel Arieff — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 11:21:17 +0000

Just re-posted an old story from my old blog. It’s my favorite. Check it out: http://popular1.com/rachelarieff/stories/i-blame-music/

If you’ve already read it, I plan to have something else up later today.

Obscene Interiors

Rachel Arieff — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 13:20:49 +0000

Hey, kids! Christmas is right around the corner! Don’t wait until the last minute to look for the perfect gift for all those difficult-to-shop-for relatives that you don’t really see eye-to-eye with.

Your uptight cousin Chrissy? Your combative Aunt Elna? Your boorish Uncle Joe, who never misses a chance at family gatherings to directly call you a faggot? Here is just the gift to show them how much you love them: Obscene Interiors.

I’ve been a fan of this website for years. But since then, its creator, Justin Jorgensen, has parlayed it into a popular book, with a foreward by designer Todd Oldham. The idea is simple: that the interior decorating of amateur gay male porn is far more obscene than anything the models do.

In each picture, the model is blacked out, leaving the truly offensive elements to shine in their unashamedly tacky glory: the furniture. The bedding. The curtains. The speakers used as pedestals. Eeew!

Obscene Interiors: amateur gay porn was never as fun and holiday-friendly. And priced at a measly 12 U.S.D., it’s a steal!

Comedy Show Tonight!

Rachel Arieff — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 12:29:02 +0000

Hey kids! Esta noche en el Teatro Llantiol de Barcelona, hago mi show de comedia, “Cómo ser feliz todo el tiempo”. (Si, está en castellano.) Si queréis venir, recomiendo que hagáis una reserva, porque anticipo un teatro lleno esta noche.

Aquí tenéis un nuevo video:

If You Didn’t Believe Me…

Rachel Arieff — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 15:42:17 +0000

… about the condom machine in Hell, I finally got the photo.