Ask A Pornstar
Shit, I never knew he had a sensory deprivation tank. That sounds great in theory until you're left alone with your mind playing tricks on you. I saw Altered States as a kid. Fuck that!
Here's a better link...were on in 2 1/2 hours.
http://blog.joerogan.net/live-webcam
Haha. He did it.
Ha ha, yeah, we talked about sensory deprivation for a good fifteen minutes.
Here is the Link to the video podcast. I gave props to Chuck and Dangerous Writing.
Joe throws a lot of "fuck"s around.
Tyler, you're cool.
Tyler, you're cool.
Thank you. And I see you had a birthday while I was away. Happy Birthday!
dude. great interview. he gives you heaps of fucking props. it's nice, and he's right, you deserve to get published and hopefully get yourself out of this industry that you despise.
good stuff, mate.
Tyler, you're cool.
Thank you. And I see you had a birthday while I was away. Happy Birthday!
Thanks! 
I tweeted at Joe Rogan because I wanted him to ask about your book. I don't think he noticed 
He did ask, he was just too toasted to stay on one subject at a time.
Fantastic podcast. You guys got deep at the end there, a little motivational speaking. I also liked the format, you asked a lot of questions. And it's got me wanting to try sensory deprivation again. If you do it, let me know how it goes. I wish he'd mentioned a place closer to the South Bay/Westside.
it's got me wanting to try sensory deprivation, too. sounds amazing. thanks for the link, tyler. that was very entertaining.
Not for me! A friend wants to know.
You are six years old. It's Christmas morning. You run down the stairs and see that big box with the red bow. Your heart races and your little fingers can't tear into the wrapper fast enough. The gift is exactly what you wanted all year long. Better than you even imagined--you can't believe it's actually yours.
Time goes on. Each time you play with the toy, it's never quite the same as the first day, until the moment comes that you want something new.
You're hooked for life. You need to replicate that pulse quickening feel of anticipation. The bliss you felt the first time. Feel the velvet bow untie in your fingers. Rip the wrapper off...
That's heroin dude. Vagina is more like pie. Waaaarm apple pie.
McDonalds... before you ask.
Well, this bodes ill.
This is why we can't have nice things.
Why? D'you eat a pie from his McDonalds?
good stuff, mate.
Thanks, Matthew. I'm lucky to have a Joe as a friend. He's very supportive...and blunt, also. I remember the very first conversation we had years ago. He called me on something that he thought was bullshit 17 seconds into the conversation, ha ha.
Anyway, that was fun because it's a buddy. I'm very wary of interviews in general because they almost always try to paint me as a dull, inarticulate savage with no impulse control. (Perhaps I really am and don't know it.) Aside from him hyping my writing, it was a normal conversation for us.
I've been listening to this for the past hour or so. Good stuff. Hope this helps you get recognition for your writing instead of your effing.
We had the Ustream page up on the monitors, so he didn't see it.
It's Upton Sinclair's The Jungle meets Boogie Night's, with a dash of The Grand Inquisitor (Brothers Karamazov).
It asks a lot of questions I'm wrestling with myself, like: the nature of good and evil, classism/working conditions, purpose in life, the effects of media on society, the fallacy that we live in a post-racial America, and the celebrity-for-nothing culture juxtaposed with the evaporating middle-class dream in the 21st century.
Thanks, dude.
It's Upton Sinclair's The Jungle meets Boogie Night's, with a dash of The Grand Inquisitor (Brothers Karamazov).
It asks a lot of questions I'm wrestling with myself, like: the nature of good and evil, classism/working conditions, purpose in life, the effects of media on society, the fallacy that we live in a post-racial America, and the celebrity-for-nothing culture juxtaposed with the evaporating middle-class dream in the 21st century.
But there'll be boobs, right?
It's Upton Sinclair's The Jungle meets Boogie Night's, with a dash of The Grand Inquisitor (Brothers Karamazov).
It asks a lot of questions I'm wrestling with myself, like: the nature of good and evil, classism/working conditions, purpose in life, the effects of media on society, the fallacy that we live in a post-racial America, and the celebrity-for-nothing culture juxtaposed with the evaporating middle-class dream in the 21st century.
But there'll be boobs, right?
In 3D.
good stuff, mate.
Thanks, Matthew. I'm lucky to have a Joe as a friend. He's very supportive...and blunt, also. I remember the very first conversation we had years ago. He called me on something that he thought was bullshit 17 seconds into the conversation, ha ha.
Anyway, that was fun because it's a buddy. I'm very wary of interviews in general because they almost always try to paint me as a dull, inarticulate savage with no impulse control. (Perhaps I really am and don't know it.) Aside from him hyping my writing, it was a normal conversation for us.
yeah, it was cool. it looked chill. you looked relaxed. and i liked that it felt less like a probing interview and more like a conversation between two people. it was a show-don't-tell interview. you asked him some questions, which, really, still reveal things about you. I'm into it. wish more journos would be that relaxed and open.
Me back in 1993 on ABC's show Sister, Sister. ABC Family Channel re-ran it. If they had any idea who I am now...
Awesome.
That bus is like where denim goes to die.
There is hope, but not for us.
aww how cute tyler haha i used to watch sister sister a lot.
Have you ever gotten a shitty dick from doing a chick in the butt?
I’m hopped up on Viagra tossing an Asian girl back and forth between me and “Malik” like we’re Joe Montana and Jerry fucking Rice. Chemically enhanced, my skull is crunchy cereal caught in the screws from the Inquisition and I got tone in my ears from my own private emergency broadcast station, wailing just for me.
“Cut,” says Jackson, the director. “We got enough vag, let’s get the anal.”
Great, ass spelunking.
Let me be clear. I’ve never been a fan of the sodomy arts. Sorry kiddies, but when you see me digging in a girl’s asshole, it’s all about the money. It’s just not my thing. My first time ever, personal or professional, was with the amazing Lauren Phoenix. I was 30 years old and it was stellar. It all went to shit from there.
“Are you clean?” I ask the girl.
“Yeah, but lemme clean up a little bit more,” she says, and goes off set to the bathroom. She takes a box of baby wipes with her.
With no girl on the bed, I’m self-conscious of laying next to another dude while we both stroke our cocks to keep the motor running in feminine absence. I stand up.
Jackson sits on the foot of the bed and says, “You’ve been doing a great job for us, Tyler. You really stepped up these past few months.”
These guys shoot me so much, I clock four-thou a month from them alone.
“Thanks, man,” I say. “I may have an off day eventually but I’ll always give it my best.”
Malik, this studio’s contract kid, is on his back stroking his cock. He’s using two hands but it’s really a job for three. It’s fucking ridiculous, his dick is a baby’s arm holding an apple. Malik bust a freestyle rap about pussy and assholes.
“So,” I say, “I figure since I have a normal-sized dick I’ll warm Andrea up with me doing the first anal position.”
“Nah, man!” says Malik. “Lemme get that ass first while I’m still hard. You got a smaller dick so you don’t need as much to keep you going. Plus, it’s my series.”
Pulling rank. Nice.
“Sure,” I say. “Whatever.” It’s been an hour since I popped the first Viagra and it’s screaming through my system full force now.
Where this girl? This is fucking with my Viagra timing, let’s go!
For civilian purposes I took enough to be a Goddamn superstar all night, but for professional use, which is all I give a shit about, the clock is ticking.
“Okay, back! Let’s fuck!” Andrea says as she bounds onto the bed and into Malik’s arms. The go down in their own little giggling pile of youth like I’m not even there. It would be a real Kodak fucking moment if I didn’t have to go through the paces of ass-fuckery.
“Let’s shoot this fucking thing,” I say, and the kids stop their grab-assing.
“Action!” shouts Jackson, and back into the melee I go. I’m laying on my back, my dick in Andrea’s mouth while Malik is widening the gauge of her asshole. The blowjob sucks, and in this case it’s not a good thing. Malik is slamming into her ass like a battering ram and each impact either scrapes my dick against Andrea’s teeth or knocks it out of her mouth entirely. It’s like getting blown by a blender on puree. I feel the drug’s window of efficacy closing and that’s a motherfucker ‘cuz I already took a near-lethal dose, my heart wants to leap the fuck out of my mouth and I’m getting a serious case of numb-dick.
Christ, not yet!
Malik is going DEFCON 4 slamming into the gates of her ass as if he’s a barbarian laying siege to Constantinople and my cock feels like it may as well belong to someone else.
“Switch,” says Jackson. Malik stops the assault and I position myself behind Andrea’s ass. It’s gaping, offering a clear shot of her pink innards but that’s the least of my concerns. On her rim, flecks of fecal matter that have the consistency of gruel and the color of bread gone bad. A scent…no, an unholy stench like slaughtered cows suspended in a vat of mayonnaise left to turn in the desert leaps out of her exposed cavity and slaps my face like a dame in a Bogart movie. The worst part of this is, the Viagra-and-exasperation cocktail has left me short of breath.
And my mouth is open. I snap my mouth shut and vacuum seal my lips, searching for the elusive adjective for the phantom of taste still lingering on my palate. It tastes surprisingly like fresh-picked strawberries! That’s if in some fucked-up parallel universe strawberries are dingleberries. Seriously man, I’m searching for some kind of real-life comparison ‘cuz “tastes like shit” ain’t gonna cut it. I suspect I could live two lifetimes and never succeed.
Jackson peeks over the top of the camera’s viewfinder. “Go ahead man, fuck ass. I’m rolling”
“I need a minute,” I say.
Malik and Andrea, giddy with porn-induced psychosis, continue their sport fucking while I kneel next to them, cold cock in my hand. Normally if I my dick goes down I just have to look at a girls ass and I’m dealt back in the hand but I’m taking a bad beat on the river because sewer cheeks has eliminated my last out.
So there I am, rubbing a brittle, dry-rotted eraser passing for my dick with the business end of her ass aimed right at me. I get off the bed and go into my mind. Wank bank please don’t fail me now.
Within the time it takes microwave a bag of popcorn, an eternity in pornnoland when timed location fees are ticking away like a taxi meter, I manage to conjure up some depraved shit in my head to get me going.
I’m fucking Andrea’s ass, not looking down, mouth closed and taking sips of air from my nose because smell is the lesser of two evils.
Jackson is behind me holding the camera next to my head, shooting over my shoulder and down for the point-of-view/you-are-there shot. His dragon breath on my neck. He can tongue my ear if he chooses to but instead he whispers, “Give me some in-and-outs.”
What he wants is for me to pull my dick out of Andrea’s asshole entirely so he can zoom in and shoot the gape. My inner child screams:
NOOOO! Don’t! Fucking! Do! It!
Nothing good can come of this. Even if I was in a “normal” scene it’s a challenge because I’m fast becoming erection impaired and I’m still thinking of the sloshing tempest I’m stirring up inside the girl’s bowels. I extract my penis, millimeter-by-millimeter, Jackson’s stubbly face over my shoulder making us some kind of fucked-up, two-headed porn chimera and I’m cresting the apex of a roller coaster mountain looking down. I pull the penile finger out of the dike…
…and nothing.
Whew!
I shove my cock back into her asshole and get a few strokes when Jackson exhales into my ear, “Do it again.”
My inner child throws a tantrum, my heart goes supernova and my field of vision is diminished to a speck. Could be from the adrenaline dump, could be from the side effects of the drug. Who the fuck cares? What difference does it make at this point? Again, I back my dick out of the asshole and…
…the barrel clicks on empty.
Inner child whimpers, “I *sniff* wanna go hoooome.”
Her sphincter puckers and protrudes like a toothless old man’s lips with a mouthful of Skoal. There is some seepage.
My inner child is in a fetal ball.
My dick is free falling. I stroke three or four times, not looking at the flecks of fecal matter on my shaft. I could point the leakage out to Jackson so the girl can clean up, but it’s camouflaged into my brown skin, and the last thing I want to do is stop the camera. I won’t ever get back anything resembling an erection for the rest of the 21st century if we delay. What a fucked-up dilemma. I don’t want to quit but my options are grim. What the fuck do you think I do? I rub the shit-flakes into my dick, using it as lube. A python plays grab-twist-and-pull with my guts and there’s an acrid taste of bile in my mouth.
Don’t hurl!
So I play Enter the Asshole once again, but this time I have to death-grip the base of my shaft like a carnival balloon to milk enough bloodflow for penetration. Once again, fucking away with my undead dick, not penetrating past the sphincter and I’m so soft Jackson does not have to tell me to pull out. Andrea shits my pathetic nub of a cock out and I concede defeat. I’m still behind the girl in the line of fire when it happens. The aperture of her asshole snaps open and convulses like a heaving cat struggling with a hairball…and her hole is a water cannon. Well, fecal cannon to be accurate.
A human seltzer bottle, she gatling-guns crap, lettuce chunks, and more crap all over me and Jackson uses me as a human meat-shield.
It’s The Running of the Bowels! Malik leaps off the bed and across the room like he’s got the Force as Andrea scats on me like Ella Fitzgerald.
My inner child is sitting in a corner, arms wrapped around its knees. He says nothing.
“Okay, cut.” Jackson says. “You need a minute, Tyler?”
Is he fucking serious?
“No,” I say “I do not need a ‘minute’. It’s a wrap for me, I’m done for the day.”
“But you have to finish. This is only the first anal position for you and you have to fuck her ass to pop!”
Looking down on the mattress, I see dookie islands in a lake of shit. I know it’s trite but I’m knee deep in it. I dry heave, nearly blowing chunks, adding to the geography with a puke archipelago.
Enough!
I grab my pants and underwear.
Damn it, underwear will be ruined. It’s Versace.
“Jackson,” I say. “I can’t imagine anything that will get me hard again, let alone be able to fuck her ass to popshot.”
He sets his camera down but only after inspecting his delicate lens for flyaway spew. “Don’t be a baby, man. Be a professional…take a Viagra or something.”
My heart is no longer beating. It’s vibrating so fast it glows in my chest like E-fucking-T.
“If you don’t finish the scene it’s gonna jeopardize our business relationship,” he says.
I listen to my inner child, grab my shit and I go home.
Ho...ly... shit (no pun intended)
Si vis pacem, para bellum
Classic Tyler Knight story. fucking classic.
Very funny. Sad, but funny.
Mom's gonna fix it all soon.
was that on the DVD outtakes?
Christ.
Do they do deleted scenes in porn now, too?
I can see it now. From Main Menu you scroll past Scene Selection, Deleted Scenes, Extras, and go on to Commentaries. Under Commentaries, bypass Director, the jocular Actors, and highlight Fluffer. Scroll right from Fluffer and highlight the squirt graphic on the screen, press Play. Congratulations! You have found the Yeaster Egg!
This is why we can't have nice things.
Long damn way for a shitty pun, Tuff.
I know, man, I know...
This is why we can't have nice things.
Yeaster Egg!
wow just wow 
That's about how I felt typing all that out.
This is why we can't have nice things.
Gross.
That's about how I felt typing all that out.
Sometimes you just have to type that stuff out but yeah.
was that on the DVD outtakes?
A few hours of surgical editing and it's like it never happened.
that's what the 'for posts you didn't post' thread is for.
Ironic intro music...
was that on the DVD outtakes?
A few hours of surgical editing and it's like it never happened.
But it did happen.
It did happen...
Also, in case anyone believed I was exaggerating about VIVID and Wicked pimping me as the "acceptable" black guy when it's convenient:
Both black guys are me. They think since we all look alike nobody would fucking notice.... A goddamn minstrel show Perhaps the critics are correct: I'm a house nigger.
... I was going to disagree reassuringly, until I read "A Paul Thomas Joint"... trying to give porn Spike Lee-style street cred... wow.
Sorry about chiming in so late. I just joined and this thread is full of great stuff.
Another HIV outbreak in porn today. This time, the testing center did not try to hide it. Can't say I care either way. I haven't taken a scene in a month because of the stupid shit I am now offered for insulting pay. I've already pulled the rip cord on my parachute weeks ago. I've got an interview with a managed futures/commodities trading firm in the morning. Thank God for marketable skills.
Good luck, TK.
This is why we can't have nice things.
Thanks. An honest day's work will be a good change. I hope the corporate cubicle ennui does not drain me of the energy to write.
Tyler, your life is far more interesting than anything else I've read on the internet. Maybe it's because I'm reading it on a more personal level than those news articles exploiting the world's disasters written by some guy, somewhere, that I'll never meet and who probably doesn't give a shit about the stuff he's writing, anyway. Either way, I'd buy your pornos if they came with a "behind-the-scenes" special feature.
No homo. Just sayin'.
Si vis pacem, para bellum
I work on a cube farm, and I find it a bit draining (mentally and emotionally). Sometimes I miss the bullshit blue collar stuff I did when I was younger; when I got home from work, I didn't feel like pulling my hair out. If I wanted to read/write/train or whatever I was up for it.
Depending on the job EDIT( I mean work load) you may even have more time to get your writing done.
Talk to him about sensory deprivation (I think he just stopped doing it and gave away his tank). I wonder how high he'll be when you first meet him vs. when the podcast ends...