The good news on arriving back from the desert was that I was to pick up my repaired sex boots. I call them my sex boots because I wore them all last year while I was researching Sex Drive. I originally bought them to America because they’re the only waterproof footwear I have, but I soon realised they were perfect as a look in fetish clubs. I also wore them up a hillside to have an “energy orgasm” with Annie Sprinkle and I masturbated at the Armory in San Francisco in front of 40 people in them. A pair of English army boots (£25 from the Army and Navy shop in Waterloo) can make you feel safe and they’re just as impressive visually as a pair of stilettos.
But they’d had such an exciting life that by the time I got back to Boston last year, the soles were peeling off. A shoe repair shop there charged me $80 to get them re-soled but then, last month, they started peeling off again. Typical Boston to make a botch of repairing a pair of sex boots. Luckily, on Lincoln Boulevard here in do-no-wrong LA, I came across a proper cobblers. Weirdly, the owner looks like Geppetto, the father of Pinocchio who was a cobbler too. Here he is with my repaired boots:
His name is Avo and he is originally from Armenia. He had a good sense of humour. I asked him how long the boots would last now and he said, “For the rest of your life. Or maybe two days!” He charged me $80 but I was pleased to give him the money. And here I am pumping gas in them an hour later:
I was on a fun day out with VS, my caterer/actress friend who is here in LA hustling like me, having relocated from Paris to make a go of things with her girlfriend. That’s what lesbians do. There are only about 3 lesbians in the world so you have to take love where you can find it. It makes like interesting. And complicated.
We were driving to a place called Fonuts in West Hollywood. They make vegan-friendly donuts (sorry to go on about donuts again) with no gluten in them. I thought they’d be spelled “Fauxnuts” because that would have been funnier. I should have known then what to expect.
VS had given me me a big build-up to the experience because she’d recently been at a trans event at the house of Buck Angel and they’d eaten Fonuts then. Remember me telling you about Buck Angel? The man with the “vagina” as they insist in calling it in LA (as opposed to “vulva”).
I have to say, I was a bit disappointed by the faux nuts. The Earl Grey and blueberry one was OK but they tasted more like cake than donuts. And why can’t vegans eat deep-friend donuts with yeast in? These ones are baked. The trans people at Buck’s house must have been very boring if the Fonuts where the height of the party.
Me and VS later went to a diner where I got the low-down on Buck Angel’s new sex toy for trans men (the world’s first). It has something to do with a dick-shaped device that you suction-fit over your clitoris. Lots of trans men don’t get the operation to have a penis because it’s still hard to make a workable penis out of a vulva, whereas it’s relatively easy to turn a penis into a vulva. Something about turning it inside out. Anyway, Buck Angel’s idea is to put the suction dildo thing over your enlarged clitoris, (it will be enlarged because that’s what happens when a person with a vulva takes testosterone) and you basically masturbate. Only you have your hand on a dick-shaped device which makes you feel like you have a real dick – plus it is giving you pleasure attached to your real body. I wonder what the name of this historical new sex toy is going to be. Probably just “The Buck Angel,” VS thinks.
Here is a terrible picture of me with Guinevere Turner, who wrote the screen play for American Psycho, and Buck Angel himself:
It was at their Oscar party the other week. I look so wasted because I was on female Viagra at the time for the Sunday Times. Thank goodness I’m off it now. The story comes out this Sunday in the Style magazine. I’ll post a copy of it when I get the PDF.
Here VS is at the diner.
It’s called Cindy’s Coffee Shop in Eagle Rock, and thankfully it has nothing that is tailor made for gluten-intolerant vegans. I had the “Noah’s Ark” which is eggs, bacon and pancakes ($9.00). Although I had to order extra sour dough toast on the side for 50 cents because eggs and pancake is a weird carb combo.
Here I am outside Cindy’s. Eagle Rock is still un-trendified so they still have old fashioned American signage like this: