Documented Fornication
Private dicks and other incriminating evidence

Has sex become a big fucking bore? Does Viagra make you long for Quaaludes? Have you thought about penis enlargement, breast enhancement or Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation? Sick of S/M, B&D, piercing, porno, and tattoos? Are you considering drastic measures to reinvigorate your libido as it suffers from pre-millennial stress? Lydia understands. You need an injection of Tough Love.

See also...
... by Lydia Lunch
... in the Crave section
... from August 26, 1999

Dear Lydia,

I consider myself a pretty ballsy chick, but I'm stumped. I've been screwing this stud for about three months. His tongue alone makes me want to climb the walls, hit the ceiling and stage-dive on top of his greasy kielbasa. He's a 160-minute man -- sounds good, right? It is, except he's desperate to videotape one of our marathon sessions -- he begs, pleads, and cries like a baby. And now he's threatening to withhold penetration unless I consent. What do you think?

Skittish Kitten

Dear Kitten,

Never allow anyone to talk you into anything that you may possibly regret. But then again, is it better to regret something you have done, or something you haven't done? I can't answer that. I've never regretted anything. I'm usually the one talking somebody else into going against their better judgement. However, videotapes have too long a shelf life. Sure, watching yourself getting slam-dunked by some virile would-be porn king is hot and nasty, but there's got to be some reason you're hesitant to do it in the first place -- like blackmail. Maybe you should run the camera, set the lights and disappear immediately with the incriminating evidence, perhaps even forcing Mr. Duh Mille into signing a contract which states that you own the material. And if he demands instant replay, it'll have to be under your supervision and at your discretion.


Dear Lydia,

I know I shouldn't have done it, but it was a momentary spasm of weakness, and now I'm freaking out. One night my partner of nine months left me alone in her apartment when she went out for smokes. I was dangling off the edge of the bed in post-coital bliss, when I noticed a photo album peeking out. Thinking it to be innocent snapshots of family and friends, I started thumbing through it. It was packed with grotesque close-ups of cocks and balls with a few hairy assholes to break up the monotony! I didn't take a head count, but there were at least 150 Polaroids in there. Now, I feel violated. Should I confront her with this?

Sneaky Peek

Dear Sneaky,

She's the one who should feel violated. You had no right to snoop around under her bed. Maybe it's an art project. She could be a budding photographer. Possibly she bought it at a swap meet. Or it's something a gaggle of girlfriends worked on together. Perhaps she's got a past she'd rather leave buried -- under her bed. Where it would have stayed, if you weren't such a sneak. She obviously prefers a more personal approach.


Lydia Lunch is a confrontational media manipulator who has explored and exploited the written and spoken word, music, film, video, theatre, photography and sculpture. She is notorious for practicing public psycho-therapy for the past two decades in an attempt to dissect the origin of obsessions.