How Chango became the seminal porn director that he is now

I had a meeting at 2 pm. It wasn’t about anything. Assemble people in a conference room, provide free food and they will find something to talk about. The meeting was dour to say the least- learned men and women gauging and criticizing their contemporaries. The stupidity of the educated cannot be underestimated. In the middle of it, I got bored. I fantasized about naked women- naked; some were in that room, some were not. I even imagined naked celebrities. Grace Kelly in a beach, Rooney Mara in a bathtub and Chanel Iman in the wilderness. I can’t help my imagination. After almost two hours, it was concluded that we needed to meet more often. Before leaving, I made myself one last cheese and cracker sandwich and chugged my drink. Continue reading

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On loss.

It is harder to write these days than it was a couple of years ago. If the body worked as hard as the mind, then I’d have the physique of Bruce Lee on steroids. Yet, I have little to say these days. The conduit between thought and expression is missing. And every time I sit to write, I wander off wondering what caused this loss. Continue reading