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Burbank – from www.laweekly.com – We’ll get to (Fake) Bono in a minute.
Ok, you know that one where the librarian loses the glasses and becomes the master of all things sexual? All it takes is a change in music and a little lighting…and voila! Seymour becomes…wait…Seymour? Yeah, Seymour. Seymour Satin is the former corporate librarian turned kingpin behind the world famous Porn Star Karaoke.
For the uninitiated, every Tuesday night at Sardo’s in Burbank, porn industry veteran and starlet alike gathers to unwind with drinks and karaoke. Yes, the favorite actors, actresses, directors, and producers behind your favorite “private browsing” sessions all have to unwind after a full day’s work, too.
Sardo’s is tucked away in a strip mall and looks not unlike Satan’s rec room — in a good way. There’s some wood paneling, some vinyl trim, and there are some ladies making out. There are some cheers, but mostly everyone seems preoccupied with song choices.
On the verge of his eighth year at this gig, Seymour Satin (and no, even with that name, he’s not a porn star) seems preoccupied that this will not be the right night for us to be here, as all of the porn stars are at the Exxotica Porn Expo in Miami Beach.
He’s very proud of his often-imitated uniquity and wants to make sure we all know it’s a crazy time every week. As for a brief history: “The stars approached me,” he says. “They just wanted to do some karaoke and then it just became an event.” Wait, why are we still talking to Seymour? There are porn stars here. Sorry, Mr. Satin, you understand.
After watching several non-industry singing train-wrecks, we caught up with veteran star Mika Tan. Mika is certain that they used to charge non-industry men to get in and we can totally understand that. (Note: the event is totally free)
Fresh off of a five-year stint in Las Vegas, she’s returned to her old haunt to catch-up. “I love it here,” she says, “it’s always crazy full. But it looks like everyone is out of town.” Bummer.
Thanks to Mika and to the relative quietude, we nabbed a coveted seat in the porn star-only VIP zone. Here, in the inner circle, we want to know two things: “How happy are you that porn is fighting the war on terror (see our story: Osama Bin Laden Had ‘Extensive’ Porn Collection: L.A.’s Adult Video Industry Was Aiding a Terrorist?)?” and “What are you going to sing?”
A small argument erupts over which titles Osama Bin Laden was actually holding on to. Some of the stars aren’t sure. The producer and actor T-Reel is proud to say that he’s got the inside scoop.
“I’ve got a guy in the FBI,” he says as he proceeds to list the mostly unprintable film titles (let’s just say it is quite an embarrassing list for a pious terrorist mastermind).
“All big black titties and white chicks with black dudes,” T-Reel laughs. He lets us know, “Hey, my only hope is that he spent so much time jackin’ off that he didn’t have time to plan anything.”
For the record, T-Reel is not going to sing anything. “Some of the guys do — and they’re good — but they aren’t around.”
Rising starlet Tessa Lane repeatedly assures us she’s going to sing. But after a few drinks, she gets up and does her best Lady Gaga. She’s not bad at all. Great voice, great enthusiasm. She sees no real correlation between singing ability and porn ability. She has aspired to porn for as long as she can remember. Hey, Tessa, if this whole porn thing doesn’t work out, you might actually be able to fall back on your singing. We’re just saying. Seriously.
Even Nicki Hunter, PSK’s long-time emcee and proud porn veteran, has some great, er, pipes. She belts out a few tunes here and there to healthy applause. At quiet points she revs up the crowd with free porn giveaways.
“Who here masturbated while thinking about their babysitter?” she announces.
The first hand raised is filled with DVDs. At even quieter points, Nicki offers and receives body shots. There’s one female superfan who can’t get enough — after seven or so, we’re surprised she can still stand, let alone wedge a shot glass in her cleavage.
As we’re shaking hands and getting to know the slim number of starlets, we’re thinking, but not saying,”Did you wash your hands after work?” No worries, as our new friends showed us the industry’s secret handshake that obviates any need for washing (hint: it involves elbows, “‘cuz everyone’s hands are all covered in lube” and whatnot).
Even though PSK is mostly a dress-down and relax night for the industry folks, there’s a very healthy fan presence. The quieter, more slack-jawed mooks stand behind a brass framed bar and quarter-wall — it’s almost as if they feel more comfortable at that distance, with that level of separation.
The braver amongst them take turns at the mic and occasionally pay for more and more epic body shots from Ms. Hunter’s ample bosom. We talked to two fans who declined to be named because they worked in the so-called “legit” film industry. We’ll call them Bill and Ted. Bill, a Valley native, knows the ropes, “Ron Jeremy comes in here every week with three or four chicks that look like they just got run-over by a crack pipe.” He and Ted also tell us that their friend totally turned down a threesome once.”
“With an actual porn star?”
“No comment.”
Ted’s here because, he says, “This is an event. It’s an interesting thing to do. I mean, look at it…it’s porn stars and aspiring porn stars doing karaoke. It’s, like, voyeurism and participation and awesome all at the same time.”
Real boobs, fake boobs, fake songs, real porno stars, fake Bono [pictured]? Us watching them, watching us, singing other people’s songs, in a bar, in a strip mall…in Burbank? The blurred lines between reality and fiction and masturbation. That’s so meta. Isn’t it? Dude, we don’t even know anymore.
Oh, and what about that Fake Bono we tricked you to clicking on? Yeah there’s a pretty convincing Fake Bono. He’s pictured here. His name is “Paul”. He only sings U2. Everyone loves him. It almost seems as if the stars come here to see him. He’s here every week. Even when it’s slow.
It all boils down to this: A supposedly boring night in Satan’s rec room beats a supposedly exciting night just about anywhere else. Sorry to, ahem, gush…but don’t we live in the greatest city in the world? At your karaoke bar maybe there’s that one guy that was in that one thing that one time. Not only have we got that guy, we’ve got porn stars singing “My Way.” And the librarian that became the king of it all.
Well done. You can be sure we’ll be back at Sardo’s when the industry gets back in season.