NEW UNDERCOVER SIN CITY PROBE YIELDS A LURID TALE :: Simply Jimmy D :: Breakin' News or Breakin' Balls: It's all the same to me!

jimmyd _writes "Readers Note: Unlike a certain competitor site of our's, we try to to provide detailed information in our articles. We don't simply write unsubstantiated, obscure, and sensationlistic headlines. For example, a competitor's site recently published that a certain uber-director is looking for some uber-cash to pay off some uber-debt. The staff here at simplyjimmyd believes our readers should always be aware of any and all information that might help them understand the lurid stories behind the sleazy headlines, rather than simply printing the sleazy headlines. And if the lurid stories aren't forthcoming, the sleazy headlines should be discounted as nothing more than lurid and sleazy attempts to garner site traffic.

Please Also Note: Fully comprehending this lurid and sleazy Sin City update may require the reader to have a grasp of certain lurid and sleazy background information that was provided recently on this site. For those of you inclined to bone up on the background information before diving into this fresh, tawdry, tale of lust, greed, and porno hijinks, you might wish to read the following articles to prepare you for this enlightening journey into the bowels of one of the Triple-X industry's best known companies. You may click on any of these articles. They are in chronological order. As Alice--yes, the Wonderland Alice--was advised, it would be best to begin in the beginning and end in the end.

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Ok. Here's how today's Sin City update came to be--

My cell phone rang. I was driving North on Canoga Avenue heading back to the office. The a/c in my '85 Suburban had gone South, and the temperature outside and inside the truck was in triple digits. I had all the windows wide open. It was very noisy inside as I flipped open my Nextel.

"Hello!" I shouted over the wind and road noise.

"Is this Jimmy D?" A voice I did not recognize asked.

"You called me." I cleverly answered.

"You don't know me, Mister D, but I know something of you," the voice went on.

"Don't call me Mister, Mister," I admonished the stranger. "Jimmy will do. Now what's on your mind. I'm a busy guy."

"I think you'll find time to hear what I have to say, Jimmy. You are a porn journalist and investigative reporter, are you not?"

"Amongst other things," I advised him. "So what do you want and who the fuck is this?" I was growing impatient with this asshole.

"My name's not important. You can call me Bloat. Deep Bloat." I heard him chuckle sardonically. This caused me to sit up and take notice since I didn't even know what sardonic meant, but I somehow knew sardonic best described the way he was chuckling.

"And I have inside information about Sin City that I know you'll want to hear and write about," he continued, sans the chuckling.

"Nice try Bloat, or whatever your name is. But I pretty much know everyone whose anyone at Sin City, and nothing about you rings a bell. Now what is it you want to tell me and I'll tell you whether or not it interests me!" I was done fucking with this guy.

"Rocky Black." Bloat said.

"Who?" I asked.

"Rocky Black." Bloat said again.

"Who the fuck is Rocky Black?" I asked. "That name's supposed to mean something to me?"

"Rocky Black. Sinister producer. Well-connected at the highest levels of the company. Connected by blood, I might add."

I had to admit, this guy was beginning to pique my interest. "Go on." I said.

"Not on the phone. It's too dangerous. Meet me in twenty minutes in the underground parking structure of the Five Star Suites Hotel on Devonshire."

"Nice try, Bloat. There is no underground parking at the Five Star Suites." I was growing agitated again.

"You're absolutely right." Bloat chuckled again. "I was testing to see if your as quick as they say your are."

"Look, Bloat," I said, raising my voice a bit, "I don't have time for games. Either you have something for me or you don't."

"My apologies. Meet me in ten minutes. Rocky Peak Park."

"There's a lot of people in that park this time of day, Bloat," I advised him. "How will I know who you are?"

"I shouldn't be too difficult to recognize. Not for an investigative journalist of your caliber, Mister... I mean Jimmy. I'll be the chain-smoking, fat man, sweating in a dark, three-piece suit under a black fedora. Look for a wilted pink carnation in my lapel."

"Oh, well, good thing you have that carnation or I'd never find you." I said, sarcastically, before realizing our connection was already dead.

I turned the big, white, Suburban West onto Lassen and headed towards Rocky Peak Park. I had to admit my journalist's curiosity had definitely taken the bait. As the big Suburban rumbled towards the park, I could only wonder what new tales of greed and lust I was about to hear. If there was one thing I could always count on, if it had to do with Sin City, it was bound to be about greed... and, uh, maybe some lust too.

I spotted him immediately as I pulled into the park and parked my cowboy Cadillac in a nice, shady spot under a tree. Bloat was huge. The dark, three-piece suit was about 3 sizes too small, and given the amount of sweat that poured off his body, it was still shrinking smaller. I spotted a tell-tale cigarette dangling from his lips from under the brim of the fedora. The carnation was beyond wilted. It was completely dead and hung upside down from his lapel. Bloat sat on a park bench, taking up most of it's seat. I approached him cautiously. He looked up as my shadow fell across a small part of his substantial bulk. He slowly dragged on his cigarette and smoke flowed out of his nostrils as he spoke.

"Ahh. Jimmy D, I presume." Bloat coughed and wheezed as he stood up, with great difficulty, and offered his hand. "It's good to meet you. I'm a great fan of the site."

"Thanks," I said, shaking the fat man's sweaty, nicotine-yellowed hand.

Bloat fell back onto the bench. As he did, he let out a loud belch. I turned my head away as the air was suddenly filled with the stench of rotting chopped liver, pickles, and stomach bile.

"My apologies," the wheezing Bloat said, "I just finished lunch."

"Deli, I'm guessing."

Bloat smiled. "You are a sharp one."

"I have a good nose for shit like that." I said.

"Please, sit down." Bloat offered me the small part of the bench he did not occupy.

I sat. "Ok, Deep Bloat, or whatever your name is. What do you have for me."

Bloat didn't answer at first. He studied me for a moment. Then he pulled out another cigarette and put it between his lips. He had not finished the first cigarette , so he pulled the first one out of his mouth and lit the second one with the first one. Then he put the first one back into his mouth so he now had two cigarettes dangling from his lips.

"It's a bad habit, I know." Bloat said, as if reading my mind. "I've tried to cut back to one at a time, but it's difficult." Bloat told me.

"Listen, Bloat, I don't have much time. And judging from your size and your smoking habits, neither do you. So let's have it."

"Rocky Black." Bloat said.

"You said that already--on the phone--never heard of the guy." I answered.

"Sit back and listen to what I have to say, JimmyD. You'll have plenty to write about when I'm through. And trust me, you know perfectly well who Rocky Black is. You just don't yet know that you know."

So that's just what I did. I sat there for about an hour listening to the sweaty, fat man say his piece. There were times when he had as many as three cigarettes going in his mouth at the same time. I moved around a lot as he spoke. He thought I was nervous. I was actually trying to remain upwind of him, but the wind kept changing. In the end, he'd given me some interesting information to work with. Here's, essentially, what the fat man, Deep Bloat, had to say about the latest gossip from Sin City:

According to my source, Deep Bloat, my recent writings about Sin City were read at the highest levels of the company. In fact, they weren't merely read, they apparently helped initiate some changes.

Bloat says that Rocky Black, the primary producer of Sin City's Sinister line, is none too happy with the changes that have taken place. Apparently, this Rocky Black had one sweet deal that has now come under intense scrutiny. Also, according to Bloat, to call Black a 'producer' in the sense it is intended, is a misnomer. According to Bloat, the only thing Black personally produces is 'skim.' Bloat says Black actually hires another producer to do the actual producing. This producer then hires a director, the talent, and the crew. He books the locations, and schedules and organizes the shoots. What does Black do? According to Bloat, pretty much nothing, unless hitting on the talent and dipping the budget counts as something, which it does, but not to anyone but Black.

Bloat also tells me that production accounting has taken on a new dimension at Sin City (thanks, in small part, to recent articles on this site, and also due to a recently made gonzo movie Chuck Martino produced.)

The way it used to work is this: You get a check to make the movie, the amount of said check depends on the amount approved in the submitted budget. You make the movie. If there's anything left, which there always is, you pocket it (in addition to whatever fees you've already been paid out of said budget).

Now, according to Bloat, you still submit a budget which still prompts a check. You make the movie. You then turn in copies of ALL reciepts and expenditures. These receipts and expenditures must add up to the submitted budget. If there's anything left, you rebate it.

Word from Bloat is that Black "Went ballistic..." over these developments. Bloat also said that Black loudly boasted he'd find a way around the new rules. According to Bloat, Black wasn't going to let anything ruin his sinister career, or reduce his income from said career.

But unfortunately for Black, says Bloat, the boastings were somehow heard all the way up to the Bay Area and reached the ears of a certain powerful, woman who is at a very senior level in the management structure, and who holds most of the Sin City/Bay Management/GVAwest corporate purse-strings, and that this woman, said Bloat, was "None too pleased!" with Black, to say it politely. And that this same woman intimated that if things weren't done properly, and in accordance and in the spirit of the new rules, production checks simply would not be forthcoming to those in violation of the new rules, which most definitely would include Black, according to Bloat.

Deep Bloat promises to keep this site informed of any developments in this story,and other Sin City stories, provided we buy lunch.

"


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