Last week I posted about some feelings I had about a girl. I was at Russell Simmons’ private party in Hollywood on Friday night, and I realised that what many people in the comments had said was true: I had a new life here, chasing something from the past wouldn’t be right for me. I’m gonna go it alone in this new city.

Russell liked my Jeremy Scott gold sneakers (them things never let me down) and was telling me how Usher, Rihanna, Puff Daddy, Oprah etc. are big into doing Yoga at his Yoga compound. He said “Those with the loudest mouths need it the most”.

I can see myself getting into Yoga too.

(My californication has begun).

So Russell’s party is dying down, and I get a text from my friend, who I met at a talk I gave last week.

He came up to me and said: “You mentioned in your talk you would swap free consultancy if someone brings you to parties. I know all the parties. What do you want to go to?”

“Show me the dark side of L.A.” I told him.

So he texts me to get in an uber and come meet him at an address in the San Fernando Valley.

I smile and think “Ah yiss, the porn capital of America”

So I arrive at this doorway in the middle of a kinda deserted road.

I walk in and the lady behind the counter says

“It’s $30 to come in, and you must sign this consent form”

So what are we looking at on the consent form?

“”I understand that there may be, between consenting adults, erotic power exchange activity and/or acts of sadomasochism/bondage on the premises”.

“I understand that there may be persons exhibiting full nudity on the premises”

“I understand that some of the activities at these events may be dangerous, and I undertake these risks of my own free will whenever participating””

“I will commit no acts with any other attendee at any event without negotiating their prior consent to it”

I was like “lol”

So I sign it and say my catchphrase to the girls at the desk in my finest British accent “What could possibly go wrong?” and now I’m inside.

The first thing I notice is what can only be described as hardcore lesbian pornography is being projected onto the walls. I think about that great standup comedy joke:

“I love lesbian porn – not because of the sex stuff – It’s just so nice to see two women getting along so well”

I meet my friend, sitting with a gym bag at his feet, talking to a woman and her (female) slave (the slave has a neckholster, the owner connects a chain to it and walks them about the place – I learned a lot this night).

The woman looks 20 years older than the (attractive) girl with the neck holster.

My friend starts showing me the “dungeon” of S & M chairs, beds, and tables, where, I’m sure, a thousand people have fucked.

The smell is so weird.

It’s unlike anything I’ve smelled before.

Not fowl, just high-pitched, likely the cleaning materials. (This was quite early in the night).

A girl walks up to me and smiles menacingly at me:

“I smell fresh meat. I’m a predator” (her friend laughs)

My friend accidentally eggs her on:

“This is Vin’s first time here!”

She asks me two questions:

“Have you ever been to a sex club”


“Have you ever been to an orgy”


“Oh boy, I’m gonna eat you alive!”

At times like these I go from cool bro into basically Louis Theroux – A kind of awkward British guy, not into “doing” anything, just fascinated at the oddness of the culture.

She lost interest in me presumably ‘cos I bombarded here with about 100 questions about the bondage/S and M scene, like:

“What’s the most extreme thing you’ve seen at one of these places?”

“So there’s this 60-year old who literally sleeps with everyone at these events.

She just came back from Hawaii where she fucked five guys for a week. So I saw her…”

Honestly, this article is already way too crass for me to print anymore of our conversation.

The above story featured a foot. I’m not going to say anymore, work it out 🙁

Everyone there, apart from the girl who spoke to me and her friend, looked minimum 40 years old.

Whether there would be anything to report back or not, it didn’t feel all that exciting, so my friend told us there was another place we could head to, so we jumped in an uber.

Now we’re really in the middle of nowhere, an industrial estate.

Somewhat rhetorically, I ask him if we’re going to another sex club.

“Of course!” he replied.

I was like: “Wow. This is literally sex tourism. I never thought I’d find myself doing…this”

Sex tourism or no, this next place was HEAVING WITH PEOPLE and I was thinking “Here come some stories!”

My mantra began playing in my head: DoitfortheblogDoitfortheblogDoitfortheblog

So what have I walked into?

A series of warehouse rooms full of every sexual fetish you could imagine.

My eyes and ears were totally overstimulated.

The entire venue centred around an Eyes Wide Shut style central room with two torture tables with people being tickled, whipped, allsorts, and a crowd of watchers observing and preparing their own fetishes.

I see a girl in a hoody and “Jason” style hockey mask, staring right back at me. Spooky.

There’s a dungeon with a girl getting whipped.

Her shrieks carry throughout the venue and are as sexual as anything you’ve ever heard in porn.

There is a “school” themed room with wooden desks and a blackboard (for that whole “You’ve been a bad boy/girl” roleplay which presumably is popular enough to constitute its own room)

There was a spiderweb made of chains with a girl attached and I couldn’t even say for sure what the other person was doing to them.

The next room had my heart doing flips – I could hear the “ZZZZZIIIINNNNNG” Of a Tattoo machine! OMG if people are getting tattooes done for a fetish I’ve hit my limit.

(Luckily?) there was no tattoo machine, it was a girl getting electrocuted (for pleasure- everything is consensual here, believe it or not).

Every age, size, and race is here.

I used to listen to My Chemical Romance a lot (I kinda still do) and they represented an idea for those who felt like they were on the outside, which I always connected with. Now I was thinking “Wow, these people are REALLY on the outside. I don’t know if I can relate”

I love extreme music, extreme movies, dank memes – I like to be at my comfort’s edge as most things are so diluted, so conservative, but… at this moment?

I was completely overwhelmed by the experience – Instrumental industrial music is blasting out throughout the space, so you can’t help but feel like you’re watching a David Lynch movie, and also how much you felt like you’re IN a movie IRL.

There’s a girl tied up in what looks like an extremely uncomfortable position with her hands and feet tied together, with a ballgag in her mouth, and her dom (The dominant person in a BDSM or sexual encounter) is seemingly finding new knots to tie her up in.

There’s a bald, muscular, guy chained up and facing the wall in hotpants.

His girlfriend (very fit) is BEATING HIS ASS.

I mean, you could hear the slaps and lashes from across the room. His skin went from white to pink in just a few minutes.

The best looking people are in couples, normally with one dominating the other.

The “Dungeon master” who manages the whole thing and makes sure no one gets hurt, and tells me “There’s a recording studio in the next room”.

Well, of course, there is.

The guy who brought me here hoists his bag onto a table and it is FULL of S and M tools. Like, the sort of thing a mad doctor has. He’s showing a girl his paddle (the device, not his…well, you get the idea), his whips, his cloths, his feathers, and explaining what each one “does” to you.

She doesn’t really look into it and I kinda read from her she looks like she has had a troubled, short life (she barely looked 21, I’d put money on 18, middle-america accent, pale, no makeup)

We were about to leave and I was overstimulated so I found a couch to sit on, a bit knackered.

Then I realised this was a BLACK LEATHER COUCH in porn county.

Where most people make jokes about the black leather casting couch used in porn videos, here I was sitting on it.

I would place money that many, many things had happened on the imitation leather I just accidentally put my hand on as I sat down.

It’s kind of a metaphor for L.A: It’s actually being “in” the things the rest of the world consumes through TV/cinema/internet – I’ve hung out with plenty of celebrities in my first week here, more offers for money than at any point in the past year (basically as much as I can eat), have always had crazy experiences here in L.A. that you only normally see in movies.

All my life I didn’t want to watch other people, I kinda wanted to be the person “in” whatever it was, experiencing X. I rarely go to shows/watch performances, even gigs.

I want to be dead center in these first-hand experiences.

Then I want to write to all of you and tell you all about them 😉

I’m thinking of writing up my Hollywood stories as they happen (rather than some time later like with my world tour stories)

Are you guys up for that?

P.s. shoutout in the comments if I made you laugh or say “WTF” on your commute to work on a Monday morning lol