The GAYVNs this year belonged to Michael Lucas and Lucas Entertainment for “La Dolce Vita.” I have not seen the movie except for the trailers at the show, but after winning more awards than any other movie in GAYVN history, it is on my short list to watch.

I did not take home Best Sex Scene. I lost to Brad Patton and Brian Hansen for their performance in “Manly Heat: Quenched.” It only makes sense since the two seem to be very much in love (or at least very hot for each other) and that is the kind of energy one needs to create an award winning anything.

My personal highlights were of course the always entertaining Kathy Griffin and seeing François Sagat take the award back to France for Performer of the Year. Watching Kathy throughout the evening proved to me that her role was much more than to MC the show. She took a hold of that room by the shorthairs and never let go. Her impressive impromptu and witty, razor sharp humor only solidified my respect for her as an artist.

Probably the best part of the show happened while my buddy Tyler Riggs was presenting the award I was up for. The audience cheered him to take off his shirt. He took it partly off and explained that he didn’t want to take off the cufflinks. Of course, Tyler LOVES an audience and soon submitted. He then realized that he was stuck; he could not pull his wrists through with the cuffs secured. Kathy saw the opportunity and jumped out on the stage in a sort of cougar-like crouch. She then approached Tyler and got down on her knees in front of him, giving him the diversion he needed to free himself. It was so impressive. That is why she is so good at what she does. She was worth every penny.

It was pissing down after the awards and as BW and I walked back to Kevin’s to dry off and change for the next event we commented on how great the evening was with Kathy. It could have been better and it could have been much worse. Losing the intermission was the best byproduct of the massive technical problems they had at the beginning.

I must say having BW around this weekend at all the parties was most helpful and enjoyable. His presence provided a guarantee of some fun with somebody amidst the crowd of new faces. I tend to become rather unsocial at events like this. BW also knows a lot of the same people I do and a lot of people I should. He likes to “steer” me in the right direction.

The after party was thrown by Naked Sword at a venue aptly called “The Porn Palace.” I got to see some good people and was able to meet some of our distributors and make some friends and allies in the world of Internet Porn. It was a good party, but we slipped out once the Tequila started to overflow from the plastic shot glasses held by the drunken hoard.

We met up with Kevin and some of his friends at my favorite bar Moby’s. What a dramatic shift! With that group we could relax and enjoy ourselves. The hours flew by and before we knew it we were gobbling down delicious pizza and laughing our asses off. It was a fucking great weekend.

Let’s talk about music for a bit. If anybody has Sirius or XM satellite radio you can hear “Deeper Into You” over the radio; something I have yet to do and cannot wait until the day that it catches me completely off guard. Junior Vasquez has a radio show on XM that airs Saturday nights from 1-3AM ET and features my song in his loop. How cool is that? It gets better. Junior is hard at work putting together the first mix of DIY! I couldn’t be happier.

Sirius radio has a gay themed radio station called OutQ and there you can hear the song as well. As of the 17th of February I am holding the #5 spot on their top 20!

I am sure that most of you have heard of a “mash-up” – two songs that have no relation separately, but when artfully strung together create something entirely new. I love them because both songs hold their own memories for me and together they are a new sensory experience rich in emotion and a good time past X2! I just recently came across a station on Sirius that plays a majority of mash ups much to my delight.

In LA we are lucky enough to have a club that caters to the fans of mash-ups called “Blender” every third Saturday night at Faultline in Silverlake. Usually a leather bar, the boys at Faultline welcome DJ Tripp Rawburtz with open flies and an appreciation for something new and fun. I have always found the leather community to be a really great, fun-loving, open group of men that are concerned with having the most fun possible and ensuring that everybody around them is as well.

DJ Tripp is one musically talented Mofo! He was the one who created the mash-up that I wiggled my weenie to during the Live and Raw show last Thursday; I am hoping to make it a regular thing on the show during my scheduled times. In the meantime, check Tripp out at his MySpace page. And have a listen to “4″ of my favorites that the music man has mashed up.

Smells Like Kelly’s Behind

Dancing Kolmadina

Tampa was cool, really cool. It was one of those gigs that had no expectations. My only requirement was to have fun and that was not a problem. Hanging with my cousin was the highlight without question. He was more into my gig than I was. This was work after all, well sort of, and to him, well I don’t know what it was, but he had an absolute blast. Seeing him so excited about what I do and hearing from him that he tells his friends about me made me feel really good. I think he may even return to G Bar on his own and he even mentioned that he would like to work there. I don’t know if he remembers that, but if he did he would do quite well; he is quite the looker.

Unfortunately this time around you will not be able to see him. I was not about to drag my expensive camera along to this gig. That was a mistake. Not only was I bummed that I could not get a picture of us or the club or the night or, well, let me backtrack a bit.

About a year ago it came to my attention that someone named Vince was sporting a Hazzard emblem tattoo on his opposite shoulder. I did not know whether we had the same artist (which would have really pissed me off) or he purposefully chose to have my tattoo as his own. Either way you sliced the pie the filling was still spoiled. So pan over to the bar Saturday night and I am well into my buzz with my cousin and his buddy when this dude stops up and says hello. He was handsome and looked harmless so I returned the salutation. With that he lifted his shirt and there was my emblem. I was completely dumbfounded. I also noticed that all my ill feelings toward him had left or maybe I was buzzed well enough that nothing was getting me down. After chatting with him for a bit and seeing how excited he was to see me (and finding out that he drove an hour just to see me) there was no way I could harbor any negativity towards the guy. Besides that he was HOT – really HOT! And we all know that always helps any situation. He was so hot that I kissed him, three times. At least now I know that the man can tongue wrestle really well.

Imitation is really the best form of flattery. It was most enjoyable to meet him and it felt nice to be emulated in that way. I suppose though if he had not been the super sweet man he was and was some rabbit cooker with intentions other than to meet and make out with me than I would have had to call security. But he wasn’t. On stage when I was doing my number I was really “feeling it” and I made out with this ADORABLE girl on stage after she gave me a 5 in my crotch. Then Vince came up with nothing but a smile and that was OK. He got a kiss too – a big one!

That probably wasn’t a good choice because that sent a message to the crowd that Johnny would kiss for a dollar. And let me tell you, that is NOT the case! The crowd surged forward waving dollars back and forth with their tongues wagging about. I was instantly taken back to “Star Wars: Return of the Jedi” when Princess Leia strangled Jabba the Hut and that brown pasty tongue of his popped out of his mouth all covered with spit and whatnot. I was not feeling it so much then and was looking for a way out. I contemplated feigning a seizure just to escape the salivating men that were collecting in front of the stage. Luckily the manager sensed my troubles and announced that I would be in the back signing autographs. I thought I would be safe back there away from horny masses. I should have known better.

In the back of the room the guys who weren’t in the front of the stage had a chance to ask me for a kiss directly with no barrier and no Vince or cute girl. I really could not believe that they thought this was acceptable. I gave a couple of guys a peck on the cheek, much to their chagrin, but it was better than my usual “No, I will not give you a kiss.” That was a good lesson to learn, reserve the self-indulging behavior for before and after the stage show. It was fun though. My hangover was not. I drank a lot of water all night but it wasn’t enough to curb the headache from dehydration and the shots of peach Jaggermeister that were freely dispensed to Joe and me.

Of course the flight from Tampa to Atlanta was THE WORST. I was in the middle of two large men that were spilling over their seats. One was so big that the armrest was hurting him so he lifted it, thus pouring his slack into my lap and onto my shoulder. I prayed to God that we didn’t have to wait for any reason and that we took off and landed without a hitch. My prayers were answered, 74 mins later I was pulled out from under the flesh that had consumed me in 18E. The next flight was less constricted and I got a window seat and had a recovery nap because I still had to drive from LAX to Palm Springs. That sort of excessive, uninhibited drinking is not a good idea when one has to fly on two planes across the country unless one is in first class. Lessons lived. Lessons learned the hard headache way.

Now seated on a Delta flight bound for Tampa I can honestly say this is the highest I have ever been while making a blog entry. In Tampa I will be performing at a club called “G Lounge” but the real excitement for me will be seeing my cousin Joe for the first time in about 12 years. Our family had a ridiculous argument that resulted in a division on my mom’s side that left some of the cousins at a loose end. The kid has grown up and is one of the most well adjusted 25-year-olds that I have ever seen. He reminds me of myself at that age! Well, give or take a few minor details…

It amazes me that after all the hype about “Homeland Security” and all the airport dramas with restrictions on shampoo and mouthwash that people still carry on as if they’ve never flown before; much less switched on the news this century. I mean how do people expect to walk up to a METAL DETECTOR with about a pound of metal distributed on them from head to toe in the name of fashion? I heard the attendant exclaim twice in a very slow, condescending tone “You are walking through a metal detector that detects metal, please remove all metal objects.”

When it came to my turn I had my lap top removed and placed in its own basket – just like the numerous signs indicated it should be. I had removed my shoes, even though they were flip flops (what else?). There was no metal on me anywhere and all I had in my hands was my boarding pass. The woman in front of me had missed the signs and apparently the last two years. She shuffled up to the detector clad in armor; a belt that wrapped around her waist four times, and several bracelets on each of her wrists. She had not removed her shoes or the shoes of her offspring that was drooling onto the floor. I knew exactly what was going to happen as if I were watching a TV show that I had seen a thousand times again.

She was asked to remove her gladiator issued belt, her shoes, accessories and the slobbering child from her person and put them all through the X ray. He asked her to put he child through just for fun and in the hopes to disarm the disgruntled people that were standing behind her barefoot waiting for her to comply with TSA regulations. She was not amused although I sure as hell was. She, of course, did not have her boarding pass with her as she went through the detector and had to flag down her equally unaware husband who had her pass in his back pocket. It would be so great if people could get it together just enough to stop impeding my every move.

On my way to the terminal I came across a man with those wireless Bluetooth headphones that double as a phone. He was talking to somebody jokingly in the middle of the walkway, pacing back and forth, laughing and smiling. He was dressed rather outlandishly with sunglasses on and he looked like he was a shizophrenic comedian. I sat down behind him on a bench and had my morning coffee watching all the people walking past him with confused and sometimes alarmed looks on their faces. I don’t know why they looked that confused or concerned, this was after all LA.

Hopefully this gig in Florida will be fun. At least I know I’ll have a great time catching up with my cousin. I’m a bit fed up with traveling for now and look forward to getting back home again. This time for more than a few days.

Shooting recently wrapped for the fifth installment of Chi Chi LaRue’s Link series. This series exists in the darker side of Channel 1 with much attention devoted to water sports and other fetishes involving the backside and H2O.

There’s no need to go into the saucy details, just buy the movie! The set had to be the most filthy, dirty and borderline unsanitary environment I have ever experienced. Everything was staged in the basement of what is rumored to be an old slaughterhouse. I saw a lot more in the way of pipes and plumbing than a slaughterhouse, but I did see some hooks hanging from the ceiling and odd colored splotches on the walls. On the second floor CSI: Miami was filming something involving some grungy crime scene. It was also said that many horror movies and other CSI-ish series used this warehouse as well. It was disgustingly clear why.

I visited this “set” last year when I filmed my award-winning solo scene in Wrong Side of the Tracks. Then, I was only required to stand and do my thing up against the wall. This time around it was full on down and dirty on the nasty floor bare-assed with four other guys. The poor camera men looked as if they had just mined coal for 7 hours. The good part, we did a kick ass scene in no time flat and I met two really great guys; uber hot Brendan Davies and the smoldering Steve Cruz. I have to say that Mr. Cruz definitely earned his Rascal badges with what Chi Chi put this lad through. Pants off to you Steve, GR8 Job!

Beside that there was nothing more really to do this time around. Production on my end takes two days, one for stills and one for the actual scene to be shot. I also did a “Live and Raw” which is a jack-off show that is broadcast live once a day with a different model or models doing his or their thing. The studio is equipped with a chat operator and a chat room. It’s a two or three hour gig so I figure I might as well make them fun for me and everybody else. This broadcast on Thursday I had our chat operator, the talented DJ Rob put on one of his own mash-ups “Smells Like Kelly’s Behind”, a mash of Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and Kelly Clarkson’s “Behind These Hazel Eyes” and I danced around like a fool, completely naked! DJ Rob specializes in mash-ups and this is one of my favorites.