Stoya from up da block

Last week’s Citypaper cover was Betty Crocker moistened by Stoya, the Philly based porn star who is making more and more folks seek refuge in their locked rooms with computers in them and lights a tad dimmed vampiric. I don’t want to actually talk about the article; I feel that I’m more focused on the reaction of the people who read the Matt Stroud cover piece and make wild assumptions as to what was on everyone’s minds. Pickled thoughts may have passed through their heads as they were unable to see the inky script shadowed by her ass: “Do my eyes deceive me? We have a porn star in our city? In Philadelphia? And she lives here? Man, I sure do hope I run into her on the street. I’d buy her a drink…or a car.” I watch as much porn as the next person with a sexual pulse in their pants, but I never really follow the names of the “actors”.

Personally, all I need is several minutes with my desktop’s volume at it’s lowest, and an attractive no name gal on the screen—in oh so many pixels—doing things to herself or other people the gals I know or knew never did to me. (I don’t know what my past peeps whom I’ve exchanged pleasantries did with other people...I don’t want to know)

I can’t say that I didn’t bother to look her up online, because…why kid myself…and you. She is very pretty, torpedoes raisin titties, and has a brain—not to insinuate that people who make money by fucking on camera don’t have “brains”, I just assume most don’t. (In all fairness, I don’t have a brain) I was only able to find one video of her on redtube.com—she was rockin’ a huge inanimate teddy bear’s world with sexually magnetic maneuvers. I wasn’t impressed, but then again I hadn’t seen her with anything human yet and—no pun intended—I didn’t look very hard. If she can flip the hoo-hoo hearty on the hot chip with someone who isn’t stuffed with cotton, who knows, I might even buy her a car...or a sci-fi/fantasy novel.

On a side note: Guys, if you’re permitted to go swimming in saltwater, remember to always wear a condom.

Z. Willis