I was just in Castle Megastore, trying to rent Cry Wolf (2009 AVN Winner for Best Film) and returning Bree Loves Sasha (starring one Bree Olson, 2009 AVN Best New Web Starlet; and one Sasha Grey, 2008 AVN Female Performer of the Year, and, no doubt, Girl-That's-About-to-Be-More-of-a-Household-Name-Than-Jenna-Jameson). Cry Wolf was nowhere to be found, even though the computer said it was there. As the clerk and I scanned the shelves trying to find the one lonesome copy, I wondered, "WHY?" And not, "Why are we looking in 'Anal' when Cry Wolf is a 'Feature'?"—but rather, "Why did I care?" That guy two aisles over, loudly telling someone (his wife?) on the phone that yes, yes, he'd stop at Trader Joe's on the way home, he was just running late—that guy doesn't care! He quickly grabbed something and was on his way to TJ's without ever hanging up. I felt like a freak show. Why was I making this poor clerk search for this video that I probably wouldn't even like—a video I was renting solely because it took "Best Film" at the AVN Adult Movie Awards three days ago? Why, oh why, am I standing in the brightly lit sex store, clutching a dog-eared piece of paper containing a list of titles like "Best Three-way," "Best Big Butt," and "MILF/Cougar Performer of the Year?" WHY?!

I think I was so determined because I'm still upset that I didn't make it to the Adult Entertainment Expo, aka the Vegas Porn Convention, this year. See, I'm not even in the "adult industry," but for some reason, I've attended four, count 'em FOUR, conventions. It's not really my world, but it is my tradition. Home for the holidays to kiss Grandma and open presents, then off to Vegas for a three-day porn party. Call me fucking crazy, but I feel like some of these people are old friends. I still have Eon McKai's number in my cell phone, I just got a nice e-mail from Joe Gallant and a package from Kimberly Kane, um, and I still have a tattered cocktail napkin that says "Kelly O is Beautiful!" from one THEN-18-year-old-NOW-the-2009-Male-Performer-of-the-Year James Deen taped on a mirror at home. And don't even get me started on the Prince of Dubai.

So what's my point? I still love porn. I know a little bit about it, too. There's a ton of it everywhere. Most of it's bad. But some of it's good—REAL GOOD. I'm gonna find the gems and review it here. Every week. Starting with my crumpled-up AVN Award list. recommended