Who needs to run away and join the circus when you got your own big top?!

I welcomed the rain with relish this morning as I made my way into the shop, thrilled at the prospect of getting my hands dirty again. Playing the roving reporter this last weekend with Tess and Diva was great fun, I'm very proud of the work we did for CarnalNation (be sure to check out the special coverage here and let them know you enjoyed watching the coverage!) and look forward to the next opportunity to work with them, however when it all said and done it all comes back to the rope.

Bundles and bundles of it, all made with love and pride, and shipped out to folks the world over.

It was not until I was just about home that it dawned on me that I spent 5 days on the Vegas strip and I never gambled once. Not even the nickle slots while waiting for a cab. Oh, don't get me wrong. I had a blast and there are a number of stories that I have to share, but is just a great feeling to come home to the arms of your loves, return to a job you love and to look forward to more adventures in your back yard.

Enough navel glazing for me, I've got rope to finish... what was that? Lunch at the taco truck? Oh it is good to be home :)

Look at me, Ma! I'm a journalist and crap!
Just call me the Edward R Murrow of porn!

Ok, on second thought. Dont. What you can do is hop over to Carnal Nation or subscribe to their twiter feed as they will be posting the play by play updates from Tess, Diva and myself as we take Sin City by storm and cover the AVN awards.

"All this talk about Vegas and Carnal Nation, don't you have a bondage rope company to run?"

Funny you should mention that! While yes, it seems like much of my time in the last couple of weeks has been focused on prepping for this trip, promoting my upcoming class and figuring out just how I am going to keep Tess and Diva out of a Vegas holding cell, I also happen to have an awesome crew that keep things running (mostly) smooth when I am away. That is until they get too hopped up on tamales from the local taco truck. I can't go more into detail about that as we are still in litigation with that "rent a goat" dude, but I digress. Suffice to say, your order are being filled and fresh rope love leaves the Abbey every day in USPS boxes.

Anyways, long time readers will also know that January is when we release a very special color of the month. Once a year I make a limited edition color run using our ultra premium exotic, Bavarian 4 strand rope and then donate the profits to Midori and the AIDS/Lifecycle. This year will mark out 4th year and I have a very cool color up my sleeve!

Now this color ALWAYS sells out fast, like in minutes, so this year I want to give everyone the best possible chance at scoring some of this fantastic rope and helping out a great cause. This is why I am warning you NOW that I intend to post a photograph of the new color next week and then give you all at least 5 days notice before it is put on sale. I figure this is the best way I can be as fair as possible to the most folks possible.

So there you have it. Next week, keep an eye out for the new color of the month update. Till then, hop over to Carnal Nation for the up to date scoop on all the crazy shit going down in Sin City.

“I’ll deal with that, after the death march”
“get right on that, AFTER the death march”
“I know, I know… just a few more days and I’ll be clear of the death march and then I’ll…”

That has been my blanket response to everything for the past 3 odd weeks, just leave me be till I get through the big holiday push (and by the way, thank you this season was extra amazing and the minion and I thank you) so now here we are… after the death march.

Now what, Monk?

Well the first thing I am going to do is take down this damn calendar that I’ve been forced to stare at all year. Ok, ok, so it is a nice calendar with all the fuzzy endangered animals on it that I should be feeling guilty for killing off. On a side note, ever notice how we never try to save the really ugly animals? You ever see a Pacific Rock Fish? Ugly mofo, but they will never get a calendar to help their plight, nope just the cute ones.. but I digress. I’m so looking forward to ripping that calendar down and replacing it with my new one, The 2010 NYC Hot Blogger calendar.

Yeah, I’m looking forward to enjoying some very sexy bloggers all year and knowing that the proceeds are also going to the rocking folks at Sex Worker Awareness makes it extra cool in my book. What, you don’t have one of these yet? Are you stupid or just lazy? Well get off your ass and go buy one, now. I’ll wait.

I’m still waiting…

...what are you on dial up?!

So now then, where was I? Oh yes, the New Year and what is next on the agenda. Well, next stop for me is Vegas.

That’s right, Vegas Baby!

What am I doing in Vegas, besides chasing down all the free shrimp cocktails and hitting the nickel slots? Perhaps I’m going to try my hand at working in one of the new all male brothels? Nope, somehow I’ve coned my way into getting, get this, press credentials with CarnalNation.Com. That’s right, me, a member of the “free press”… ok you can all stop laughing now, really I mean it, stop, you are hurting my feelings.

Truth be told, I’m not so much a member of the press as I am the baby sitter, body guard and all around arm candy for The Urban Gypsy and Ms Debauched Diva. I know, putting me in charge of keeping those two out of trouble is like putting Dracula in charge of the blood bank. In addition to reporting from the whole skin circus that will be the AVN awards, chasing down every cutie I can find and tying them up, I’ve also been asked to teach again.

I posted a description of the class here and the first comment I got was, “dude, $50 bucks for a class with you? I would not cross the street to pee on you if you were on fire for $50 bucks.”

Thanks mom, you say the sweetest things.

As for the rest of you? Tune in tomorrow and I’ll give ya the skinny on why this is going to be an amazing class.

Monk, on 2 coasts and on stage too.

Going to be a busy two weeks for your humble narrator. Let us see what the calendar holds....

Friday Oct 30th: Columbia City Cabaret, "Frightfully Kinky" Show
Catch me performing onstage in one of the best cabaret shows in town. Tamara always puts on a hell of a show and this one will be extra "kinky". See my amazing rope bottom and I pull off some moves that you have never seen a in a rope bondage scene. That and it is also Tambo's birthday so she is going to be getting some birthday "attention" on stage too.

Sunday Nov 1st: Max Teaches Rope Bondage 201
Rope instructor extraordinaire, Max of bondagelessons.com, continues his fantastic series of monthly rope classes. If you missed the 101 class, fear not, you will catch up quick. I'll be there with a VERY limited supply of rope to sell.

Thursday Nov 5th: Sex Worker Literati in NYC
It is with great delight that I will be attending this event with my NYC hosts. Some amazing presentations and performers will be there. I'm a tad "fan boy" with delight at getting to meet some of my industry idols.

Friday Nov 6th: The New York Sex Bloggers Calendar Release Party!
I guess I must have made a bit of an impression on Tess and Diva when I met them last week in CT as they are hosting me to be part of this very cool event. I'll be there, I'm bringing my personal rope as well as a one of a kind rope kit for the auction. By all the sounds, this party is going to be off the hook with some of the hottest sex advocates, workers, writers and outlaws from all over the country.

Saturday Nov 7th: Sensual Rope Bondage for the Not So Vanilla SOLD OUT!
I'm making a very rare teaching appearance in NYC to teach a small, hands on class in my unique style of sensual bondage. Sorry, Sold out.

Whew! I'm so glad that I'm getting a personal assistant again soon. I can barely remember where I left my pants last night!

Dearly departed.
In the air, my flight winging its way eastward through the night and into the morning till we reach our destination, Boston. Boston, however, is just the start if this trip.

The start would have to be back in San Francisco, exhausted and slightly buzzed from our day in the sun and sweat that was the Folsom Street Fair, Jezebel and I were conversing about all the sights we had just taken in. As I tended to the fresh, deep cuts left in her breasts by a wicked single tailing at the Kink.Com stage, she asked me if I ever missed “working” at events like this.
“There is no way to keep up with all the inbound demand and mount a large scale show at the same time; last one almost put me in the hospital. I retired from doing shows, much to the relief of my partners, about 18months ago. However, the chance to see my customers face to face, to hear their stories and share in their excitement for this thing I make? Oh I miss that more that you could imagine…”

And from there, a plan was hatched.

My old friend, Graydancer, has been after me for years to attend one of his “Un-conferences” equal parts an exercise in controlled anarchy and excuse to get a bunch of rope lovers who may never travel to a big convention a place to gather and learn, these have been growing in both number and popularity. I never thought I would be attending one till Jezebel suggested it.
“I’ve got a break that week, I’ll meet you in Boston for a bit and then you can head over to the event… I bet you they miss seeing you too.”

Next thing I knew, she had plane tickets, car rentals and hotel reservations bought and waiting for me, all I needed to do was figure out if they wanted me at the event and what I could bring to the show.

“Rope, you moron, lots of rope” was Gray’s ecstatic response.

And so here I am, headed into Boston with a case full of rope and a few very interesting, top secret new products to show off and get feedback on. First stop, however, is a swanky old school hotel where I’ll rest up and then connect with Jezebel. Tonight she wants to show me the town as well as indulge our shared fetish for all things strange as we embark on a late night tour of the town’s more infamous haunted places.

Tomorrow I’ll venture east to Connecticut, but tonight it is all about food, strong drinks and seeing if I can give Jezebel some fresh marks now that her single tail “trophies” seem to have faded away.

Folsom Fashion Blues

Well gentle readers, the signs are all there. The kids are back in school, crappy horror movies are back in the theaters and Tambo wants to put a giant inflatable jack-o-lantern in our front lawn. Yes summer is over and fall is here, but before I trade my tank tops for flannel shirts there is one last big event that will officially mark the end of summer.

The Folsom Street Fair.

Ah Folsom, the one day of the year when downtown San Francisco is transformed into a giant, gay leather fest. The only place in the world where you could run up to a cop screaming, “Officer, officer! There is a man, naked, and he is handcuffed to that fence over there!” and the officer will calmly respond, “Well, does he WANT to be?” Long term readers will know that I’ve a unique place in my heart for this event. Our first trip, 6 years ago, was a watershed event both personally and for the company. Marking the moment when we went from “guy in his back yard” to “world’s biggest bondage rope supplier”. Over the years I’ve attended as a vendor, a performer and even as a tourist. This year I wrap all those past experiences into one brand new and very exciting adventure. This year I will be attending as a personal tour guide for dear Jezebel.

I am blessed to live a life that allows me to have so many wonderful and varied relationships in it. Each one is very different and each brings a unique perspective and insight with it. I never thought that in all my years I would have a playmate grow into a relationship where we could travel together and she would enjoy my company as both her top and tour guide. Let’s face it, even my partners get annoyed with me what with all the lawn gnome jokes and constant email checking. So having someone grow from seeing me only in the dungeon a few hours at a time to someone who will invite me to travel with her is a huge leap for us both. It will be quite an adventure, but I have great faith that we will have a grand and very naughty time.

Now the real worry I have is what to wear?

“I just figured it out; we are in a werewolf movie!”
Griffin pauses mid tap and looks up from his iphone where has been frantically tapping and making oddly obscene finger gestures in an attempt to connect and get his email. “Werewolves huh? Makes sense. Middle of nowhere, not enough population for a decent zombie attack and not enough cover for vampires to hide… “

“… and we are too old to do the hockey mask killer genre” I interject.
“Dude, we are doomed”
Welcome to my weekend in Montana…
When my sword swinging pal and sometimes booth bunny, Galahad, and his childhood sweetheart decided to finally get married they opted for a very memorable location to hold the ceremony. Now by memorable I mean WAY THE FUCK OUT OFF THE BEATEN TRACK. How far? Lemme see.. Tambo and I hopped in her uber bug on Thursday morning, pointed it east and drove, and drove for 10 hours to the middle of Montana. Glacier National Park to be exact. While beautiful landscape, we were definitely in “god’s country” as in there were billboards along the highway pointing out each of the 10 commandments and one town we passed through claim to fame as a 100ft cross mounted on the neighboring hillside.
Not satisfied with dragging their liberal, latte swilling, wifi addicted friends to this remote, yet stunning spot, the wedding was to take place in an even MORE remote spot.

An hour drive across the park to a remote, unpaved road and a white knuckled bounce and slide to just shy of the Canadian border you reach a tiny town of 30 people. Consisting of not much more than a general store/bakery and a saloon next door, the town of Polebridge only exists for the summer months. Providing supplies, mail services, amazing baked goods and a social center of the handful of individuals who call this remote corner of the world home. Oh and by some odd twist, this town while powered by propane fired generators and sporting exactly 2 bathrooms (one being an outhouse complete with a vintage sears catalog and several works of Danielle Steele should you get bored, or run out of TP) had public wifi. In fact it is the closest location for wifi with in 50 miles of the park entrance.

In between wedding festivities you were sure to find folks in one of two spots. Sitting on the covered porch of the Mercantile, laptops resting on the rough hewn tables as folks sucked down as much bandwidth as they could or in the saloon, where we were sucking down locally made beer served only in wide mouth mason jars.

So yeah, this was prime werewolf country. A remote village with little or no means of communication to the outside world. Locals eyeing the city folks with a mix of suspicion and interest. Anyone who has seen An American Werewolf In London knows just what I mean, that part when they are in the pub? Yeah, we were lycanthrope chow for sure.

Then they had to ruin it all by throwing a really terrific wedding.

About 100 of us made the trip from all over the US to watch these two tie the knot. Like most weddings there is that sort of awkward, “how do you know the couple” interaction as people from across the landscape of the couple’s lives all converge at one point. Thankfully, or as a testament to just how cool the couple is, that question was consistently answered by “wow, they have some cool friends.” With out going into too much detail, the ceremony was lovely and I was given the honor of tying the hand fasting cord. Funny considering that I’ve tied up more than just both of their hands over the years. However, after making countless cords for other’s ceremonies this was the first time I was asked to both make and tie the rope. A unique honor I must say. Vows exchanged, tears shed and procession marched we feasted on fresh trout and far too many baked goods made from wild huckleberries.

Eventually, as the sun dipped low behind one of the giant mountain peaks that surround the place, the saloon threw open its doors and revealed a tiny amphitheater where a blue grass band was just starting up.


There, there we danced. Under the stars, one hand holding our mason jars of freshly made beer, the other holding someone we loved all the while free range dogs milled about unfazed by it all.

Postscript: To my knowledge none of the wedding party were eaten or otherwise mauled, however it was not a full moon that weekend so I'm still not convinced.