If I wasn't so deathly insecure, I'm sure I could have capitalized on the "talent" confusion. But I spent most the evening flaccidly absorbing the night's energy.

It was amazing just being amongst Jenna Jameson, Ron Jeremy, and pretty much any porn star you can think of. It was a different scene than the "get-in-line-for-a-signature" vibe that the porn stars projected earlier in the day. These were actors on Oscar night -- filled with pride and surrounded by their peers.

It's a shame I spent so much time adjusting my crotch and composing myself in the restroom.


If you think the average men's bathroom is thick with machismo, you shoulda seen the restroom at the Porn Awards. The copious testosterone oozing from these guys was eating away at the porcelain of the urinals. Nobody talked.

But everybody had that stance that says, "My dick is ENORMOUS. Man, if you knew the back problems I have simply due the SIZE OF MY DICK."

Maybe I was reading into it, but it was definitely a different scene from what MissM experienced in the women's toilet. She described fabulously dressed sexpots doing each other's makeup, sharing drugs, and carrying on.

But the guys bathroom was a sea of silent suits. You never would have known it was the adult film awards. If you didn't see the comically colossal cleavage of the women's outfits, you might have thought you were at a banker's banquet. Maybe it was my outfit that put my fellow male porn connoisseurs on edge. I felt like announcing, "I am NOT a gay porn star." Of course, the "Fluffer" t-shirt I wore at the convention earlier in the day couldn't have helped things.