Ever get together with thirty of your best friends, get loaded, and watch cheesy old movies and sexy go-go dancers? Sorry for the late site update, but the entire Corporate Mofo staff (me, Mistress Rowena, Nancy, her husband Ron, and our various fictional and factual counterparts) were absolutely exhausted after a weekend of doing just that (and, for me,a fencing tournament). It was a lot of time, energy, and planning—but, on the plus side, last Friday's Porno Liberation Front was, far and away, the best Fark party I've ever been to.

Thanks to our extraordinary organizational talents, which rival even those of the Beijing Fire Department, we all managed to assemble at Collective Unconscious about a quarter to eight, which left us enough time to make some sangria, change into our costumes (mine was the Hugh Hefner smoking jacket), and get the computer hooked up.

For those who have never been to a PLF event, the basic idea is this: We get very drunk and watch very stupid movies that have something to do with sex. Last time was Ship of Shame: The Story of DE 733, a World War II-era VD-education film that teaches us the very important lesson that yes, even "nice girls" can carry the deadly clap within their filthy, accursed, hideously complex genitalia.

This time around was a little kinder and gentler: We showed 1940s and 1950s sex-ed films designed to teach the young men and women of America proper courtship rituals, so that they wouldn't grow up to be heathen godless Communist homosexuals or Canadians or something. Titles included As the Twig is Bent, which showed the corrupting influence of wartime jobs and jukeboxes; How Much Affection, which teaches us that teenage sex inevitably leads to a life of working-class misery; Perversion for Profit, made in 1964 by Citizens for Decent Literature, a group headed by financier Charles Keating, who, if you remember, was indicted in 1989 for the largest white-collar crime ever committed; and, of course, that eternal favorite, Are You Popular?, to which we can definitively answer, "only if you park in cars with boys."

In between films, everyone was entertained by the Porno Lib Front dancers, AbbyNormal, Creamy, and Rebecca, who were glad to pose on Ron's motorcycle after the show. Ron was glad to play DJ for the show, switching from music to film while I somewhat lamely attempted to cover for the awkward transition between audio to video by ad libbing a bit about each film, trying to put it in the context of what else was going on in society during that time. (Doing Porn Lib Front, on the other hand, is a good chance to practice public speaking for when I have to promote my book—I suck in front of audiences. Some would argue I suck in writing, too, but, hey, I have to earn a living somehow.)

We managed to get a good four films in between 8:00 and 9:30, when the next show had to roll in. The overall turnout was over thirty people, which is pretty good considering that none of the New York papers decided to run our listing. Most were from Fark, with a few Collective members (thanks, Porno Jim and Andrew Boyd). We even made back the deposit we'd laid out for the space, and hardly lost any money on the booze, since, hey, I would have drunk it all myself eventually anyway, right? Most importantly, everyone seemed to leave happy.

Afterwards, we retired to Remote Lounge, but, since the bouncer decided to be an asshole, all twenty-odd of us decamped (at no small financial loss to Remote) and headed over to New York Buca headquarters itself, the Raven. A good time was had by everyone except me, since I had to wake up and do a fencing tournament with the worst hangover I've felt in a long, long time.

Special thanks to Rebecca, Creamy (below, left and right), Ron, Nancy, Mistress Rowena, the Collective staff, to Trelane for coming up with the idea of a party in the first place, and, of course, everyone who showed up!