The Nappy Diatribe

HUMANITYCRITIC'S MESSAGE TO RAY-J: "This is how you make a sex tape!!"

Posted 02/14/2007 at 9:52 PM  |  8 comment/s

Ray J, take this advice. It was either this or a driving instruction post for Brandy.

I've written about this before - but besides the fact that I've smoked and inhaled, defecated on Pat Robertson's property, and performed a few deviant acts within the holy walls of possibly a church near you - the main reason that I can never run for president is because there's a sex tape of me floating around somewhere. Ever since I first starting seeing women naked (and disappointing them to yawn-worthy proportions), I've had this weird fascination with seeing my chubby ass hump with the crazed intensity of a stoned test bunny on film. If you were to see the chunky state of my body, my beard and long dreadlocks giving off the utterly delectable "Black Jesus with a thyroid problem" look, a sexual exhibitionist is the last thing you'd think I'd be. But I can't run from who I am, and based on the fact that I have an appendage that I consider to be a "Black myth ruiner," I knew at an early age that my only chance at penetration was to seduce ladies with my sensual pillow talk (Come on girl, you know it's protein, right?) and Pavlovian response-inducing dance moves that haven't been seen from an overweight black guy since the days of Re-Run from What's Happening!!" (Nothing like seeing a fat guy doing the Running Man and the "Truffle Shuffle"-see The Goonies.)

For some reason I wanted to capture that magic on tape, so when I was 19 I had a girl that I was dating tape us with what seemed to be her father's World War II-era camera while we were having sex, an endeavor so noisy that it felt like we were cutting the grass, not making amateur filth. After we watched it she immediately set it ablaze, not because it wasn't any good, but because I kept waving to the camera, flashing piece signs, and shouting out my suburban friends as if they were old cellmates I had once did a bid with. Sure, there would be other attempts of me trying to film myself mid-coitus, but they got destroyed as well - not because my brand of humor or the woman's fear that one day my friends would possibly be able to identify her vagina in a police line-up - but because those particular scenes were shorter Robin Williams' attention span. But a few years ago, after an extremely rough breakup. I started dating this black goth chick so freaky that some of the shit she wanted to do to me still makes me blush - which is no small feat being that I'm a dark caramel-complected, deviant brother. Anyway, in my mind we made what I feel today to be the Citizen Kane of amateur pornography, a ten-minute short that had drama, comedy, adventure - and, of course, a climax at the end as predictable as the finales to Titanic or Malcolm X.

Like most of my relationships, that one ended badly. I think it had something to do with me being emotionally unavailable and not being sensitive to her needs. (This coming from the woman who once spanked me with a paddle and called me a "bitch" when I openly complained. Go figure.) So I have no idea if she destroyed the tape or not. She could be playing it at dinner parties for all I know, while scores of disgruntled women who keep a Mary J. Blige CD cemented in their CD player laugh hysterically at my toddler-sized penis. Who knows?

Like the journalistically constipated snob that I am, I usually wouldn't give a shit about a failed R&B star doing it on tape with the best friend of a cross-burning socialite (Paris Hilton), but so many readers of my blog have asked me to weigh in on what will probably be a porn tape as critically praised as the movie Ishtar. Now, I haven't seen the entire porn tape of Ray J and Kim Kardashian yet, but I've received enough clips via email to get a general idea of what's going on here. As a grizzled veteran when it comes to taping myself underachieve, I have a few pointers that I'd like to give Brandy's little brother. If I may...

Don't use a script next time: Being a cynic kind of sucks. I've smirked when women have expressed their undying love for me, stared off into space as someone praised my writing. Even though I don't give a fuck, I hardly believe that a woman is feeling any sort of pleasure as she belts out orgasmic screams as phony to me as Meg Ryan in When Harry met Sally. As I watched a few clips of this particular porn I wanted to believe it was an impromptu endeavor, like freestyling off the head or Tourette's, but I kept getting the sneaking suspicion that the whole thing was scripted. OK, not literally. But between an R&B singer that most people wouldn't piss on if he was on fire, and a girl whose sole talent is being cute and having a decent pair of tits, that's a recipe for an ill-conceived attempt to garner attention. Not for for nothing, but I've seen prison rapes with more chemistry. Put it this way: I wouldn't be surprised if during the closing credits you saw titles like "Script Adviser," "Best Boy," "Bob's Catering," shit like that.

Ray J, stop looking like a toddler: Being that I'm a firm believer in conspiracy theories, the second shooter on the grassy knoll, the government inventing AIDS to kill off black folks, and a missile firing into the Pentagon, I also honestly feel that Ray J is a vampire roaming amongst us. I'm saying, for a guy who is 26 years old, he sure looks like he should be in some junior high home room somewhere. If he ever decides to venture into the amateur porn game after this, he has to grow a full beard (if that's possible), acquire a grown-man voice, something, because as I watched I couldn't stop thinking of "Blues Clues" or old episodes of "Romper Room" that I used to watch as a kid.

Tell the next girl that this isn't a photo shoot: The beauty of watching a celebrity porn tape - in this case the term "celebrity" is used as loosely as Lil Kim's genitalia - is that since the participants never planned for the tape to be viewed by the public, there isn't any special attempt for them to make themselves look all pretty. I have no way of telling if Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee's tape was meant to be seen by all of us or not - but based on the way Ms. Anderson didn't have any make-up on while she got her throat examined by Tommy's appendage, I tend to believe they planned to keep that piece of film part of their private collection. This chick Kim Kardashian, it seems that she is made up in every scene as if it were a photo shoot - and when she is not totally made up. she is applying said cosmetics. What the fuck is that about? Listen, for guys like me who literally have to pay a chick to see me naked, I want some realism with daily allowance of filth!!

Throw some comedy in there: Even though the tape seems to be a comedy of the unintended variety, I always found a bit of injected humor to be the right medicine when filming your own pornography. For example, while you are frolicking near the nether regions of your lover, make a contorted face as if you were just thrown into a landfill, regardless if her hygienic habits have her smelling like roses down there or not. Then, when you finish handling your business, invoking pleasurable eye-rolls and whatnot, when she asks you "How was it?" make her brain explode with obscure references: "Oh baby, it's as grainy as the Zapruder film down there!!" Sure, she might find your brand of humor inappropriate, but just think about the bonding experience that will be had by all as the both of you laughingly play back the tape later.

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