Saturday: 2:15 AM      Here I stand on the eve of the greatest adventure of my life. Oli, Caleb, and I are about to embark on an oddisy from which there is zero return. Erotica-LA 2002. LA county's first, only, and premier erotica expo.      To me, Erotica-LA is a sexual adventure. It's like a roulete wheel, where five of the spaces land on crossbones and the sixth one lands on cock. Its like sticking your hand into a beehive to get all the honey, and instead finding a shredded stuffed bear and a hide full of bees. It's like that time my friend and I played Gas Wars and immediately changed our minds and played Fire Wars. Erotica-LA is, to me, one gigantic adventure.

I never could get enough poo.

Saturday: 11:15 AM      When we first stepped foot into the Con, it was like no other convention I'd ever attended. I mean, there was of course the obligatory SpiderMan and Incredible Hulk cosplay, only this time, it was somehow different.      Because Spiderman was having sex with things.      And the Hulk was a nickname for my wang.      Once upon a time, Oli and I actually had our own plans to become sexual superheros. My name was going to be "Blue Ball Billy" while Oli was the "Beastialiac". Basically, I had the powers to spot anyone within a million feet who hadn't had sex in a week, and when in close enough range, have sex with them. Oli could detect evil in any dead animal and kill it before it un-died.      When we finally decided that our powers might not have been such a good idea, Blue Ball Billy became a part-cyborg as well, and instead of having sex with his enemies, he would be a gigantic tease and then run off to masturbate. Beastialiac's power was thought to be too strong and henceforth could determine only zombie penguins.      When our plans were complete, I had a toaster replaced with my brain and my wang was shaped out of hot snow. Oli's leg was a ninja sword and we were both attached at the knee. When I continually got nicks and cuts and always burned the toast, our partnership fell apart. The nation's one hero short of a Justice League.

Somehow, our skins turned green. But our soul still burns.

Saturday: 1:30 PM      So far, I've seen a sixty year old woman in a half a pair of panties and a breast cleavage longer than Hulk Hogan's own ass. My faith is beginning to waiver.      The signs, however, remain positive. Three, literally three signs in a row all told me directly, "This is where your fantasies begin". Only one sign felt the need to tell me that, "This was that place where your fantasies end". But that sign was by a large purple octopus with a space-gun and anthrax on rye. I think that was the expo nextdoor.

Saturday: 3:00 PM      Oli points out my unhealty obsession with pretending to be a stripper or Megaman or both. What he really doesn't know is that before the years of that, I used to pretend to be the Red Ranger in the Power Rangers game for Nintendo. And if you think about that, the game was just a cartoon of the red ranger. And the Red Ranger was really just a guy pretending to be a red ranger. So, really, there's like three layers of imagination before you even start to crack the domain of my fantasy life. I live in a world where boundaries don't exist.

Saturday: 5:00 PM      Oli and I were just offered power drinks with strippers on the can. Oli is afraid to drink it for fear that it is hard-on in a can. Sure that liquid viagra does not exist, I down almost all the can. Military forces are put on full alert to protect any and all eyes in the vicinity.

I feel like a hampster who's about to get raped.

Saturday: 9:00 PM      The future has arrived, and it comes bearing dildos. I just saw the single most technological cock that the lord has ever made. Ten speed, five setting, three attachable parts. The head swivles, the body ripples, and there's a dust fan for my clit.      The world has invented a robotic dick that can put my own to shame. And if cartoons didn't do the same aeons ago, I'd be really depressed. And, yes, this entry did imply that G-d directly loves the cock.

Like Arnold Scwarzenegger, only a little more green.

Saturday: 12:00 AM      After minutes of wondering, I think I've discovered the reasons. Why do three men go together to one place full of porn? The same reason men watch porno in groups.      To dig holes in the carpetting.

Sunday: 11:00 AM      The first things of the day. First of all, moisturizing lubricant creme. Solely for the wank. I am almost afraid to even try this one. What if it gets so soft it never gets hard again? "My wang is so fluffy, I wear it as a scarf! My girlfriend calls it 'Silky'!".      And I've just come up with the slogan for Liquid Virgin. "Sews up your vagina in one fast easy spray!"

Not only sexy, but decorative too!

Sunday: 11:30 AM      You know you're a loser when at a Sex Con, you admire the massagers and surge protectors.

Sunday: 3:45 PM      I've finally finally found an "almost" real doll. The only problem is it just felt so fake. The breast felt like it was full of air balloons. Like if I played too hard, the doll would explode. Or better yet, I'd smuggle crack in the breast, take her to prom, have nine silicone children, and then they'd explode. That would be a gajillion times better.      I know somewhere out there, there is a hardcore breeder, with miles and miles of vast cloning fields and harvests of green-haired Jango/Bobba babes, but this was luckily not their day. Because let me tell you, on that terrible day, masturbation will then be a thing of the past.

Kill me if I get excited.

Sunday: 5:00 PM      On the way to our lunch, we found a place called "Super Subs". Caleb mentioned that such a "super" place should at least be open at lunch time. My response: every hero needs a weakness. This hero's weakness is business.

Sunday: 8:00 PM      Strippers just don't seem to love me that much. When shirts were being thrown at the crowd, I was right there in the middle. Due to my luck, I stayed for the male one.      Between frequent glances at the grown man's package, I still was yelling for a shirt of my own. It's not that I'm gay or that I like seeing wang. I'm busy looking for the penis that shot my paw. The shirt becomes my own.

There's a fifty percent chance that this breast is filled with candy corn. The the other one is filled with pure movie theater butter.

Sunday: 10:00 PM      At about ten o' clock, we have toured the whole place three times. There was a saying long ago by a very wise man. "Everything in moderation. Neither too much or too little." It may have been by my dad, but I know I saw it online once, so I'll assume it was someone popular there.      Let's say. . . Captain Planet. Captain Planet told us all to go home. And, all filled up, with a belly fulla porn, that's where I am right now. Captain Planet is a hero.

Gunna take pollution down to zero.

By Danny