There once was a time when pornography was deemed dirty, sinful smut that would lead to hairy palms, blindness and a spot with your name on it in the hottest parts of hell. Fortunately for adult content fans everywhere, those days seem to be over. In what has to be the most sexual innuendo ridden article ever (subheadings include “Package Deals,” “Bottom Line,” and “Bang for the Buck”),  Advertising Age revealed that “satellite and cable companies are loosening their chastity belts and getting more aggressive about promoting adult content.”

Looks like we can blame our failing morals and values on our failing economy or, as AdAge.com puts it, “The economy may be in shambles, but satellite and cable companies are making whoopee.” No longer does fear outweigh money – the bills are piling up and cable companies are going in the direction of the many sad and desperate before them.

Yes, porn is about to save cable TV. Read More »

I can’t explain what it is about Dave Matthews, but millions of college boys fall in love with him year after year. And so, by default, do the girls they date. I’m even pretty sure at about 40% of the country’s universities, you can’t even apply unless you’ve been to or intend to attend a Dave Matthews show, because he’s so “f*ckin unbelievable live.” Right? Riiiight.

I admit, I’ve been. It’s an amazing live show, it really is. That and the contact high you can get on the walk from the parking lot to the amphitheater is sick. But no, boys definitely love the Dave, and when you date one, you learn to love (or tolerate, or pay to see) him too. The odds are not in your favor–you will learn to deal.

I personally was never into Dave Matthews until I dated his stalker, a guy who had been to over 30 shows around the country, owned every album, some memorabilia…you get the idea. He had a man-crush on Dave. So, I tried to appreciate instead of judging him as a little weird (error in judgment number one). I downloaded more Dave than my own iPod could handle, I think at one point a good sixth of my playlist was devoted to DMB. I took it even further and went to a few shows. Which were good, you know, until I attached memories of the guy to them. And then the relationship ended on an incredibly bad note. And I was left with the sappy croonings of Dave Matthews to remind me what a moron I’d been. Never again can I think about seeing him live (which is sooo fun if you tailgate) or throwing on a random mix to fall asleep to.

Dave had to go, and after removing him from my iPod (but not my iTunes, should I lapse), I was safe. Or so I thought. Read More »

Guster: “Satellite”

From the album Ganging Up on the Sun. Buy it here.