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Sunday, 3rd March 2002 - 1:37am

My Sexcursion

As Paul and I were standing in the lobby area of the Brisbane Convention and Exhibition Centre waiting for the doors to Sexpo (the Sex, Sexuality & Lifestyles Exhibition) to open, it felt very much like skipping a day of school without permission and going to the movies: It was somewhat excitingly naughty to be there. There were quite a large number of people milling about - made up of members of the general public and also those involved in the sex industry in some shape or form (obviously involved with Sexpo itself). It was easy to identify the workers; by both the 'STAFF' passes around their necks, and their toothpaste-tube tight leather pants.

There were three women at the ticket booth - and one of them was exceptionally old. Had I been served by her, I would probably have baulked at the last minute and asked for a pass to the Home & Garden Show - but luckily I was served by a much younger lass (called Bev), and before long I was on my way through the door.

Upon entering, Paul and I had Four Seasons Glow in the Dark Condoms and a program for the day's events thrust into our hands - and a quick look inside the program told us that there was a lot more thrusting yet to come: Strip shows and product displays abound throughout the day.

We did a quick lap of the venue, briefly looking at each stall and display (and deciding which ones we wanted to explore with more detail later on), but I must admit at first I found it hard to look at anything. I felt a mixture of embarrassment and sleaziness, which made me frequently find something on the floor or ceiling terribly exciting to look at in between stealing glances at various sex-related products. Maybe it was because I haven't had sex since fold-up scooters were cool, and I felt unworthy. Luckily I got over it fairly quickly, and was happily gawking about like everyone else.

At around 11:45am Paul and I took a seat in the stands nearby a stage, where we got our first glimpse of the Sexpo mascot - a big kangaroo body with an even bigger penis for a head. Its name was Penisaurus. (Okay, so it wasn't a kangaroo body, it was a dinosaur body - but it looked more like a kangaroo to me.) Penisaurus wandered around aimlessly for a bit, looking extremely ugly - one look and women were seriously considering becoming lesbians - when all of a sudden in turned around to face the bandstand from the other side of the room, and started walking purposefully towards it. Paul and I realised what was happening a second too late - Penisaurus leaned forward and sprayed us all with oh-god-please-let-it-be-water.

While drying off the day was officially opened by our rather dodgy host, and saw a stripper with extremely fake breasts who only seemed to know a few dance moves which she repeated over and over.

We decided it was time for a walk, so we went and checked out the "Body Bitz" display - a company that specialises in plaster molds of body parts. The gooey mold stuff actually sets within 45 seconds, making it perfect for doing casts of babies' hands and feet - as well as less innocent appendages. YOu can then either pant the molds and hang them on your wall, or turn them into useful gadgets. Yes, for as little as $15 you too can have your own personal nipple keyring, vulva pen holder or erection hat-hook. (Okay, so some of the erection molds resembled hat-pins rather than hat-hooks - but the intent was still there.)

At the other side of the complex was a sex shop stand, complete with their own video screen showing an instructional video on how to give perfect fellatio. Somewhere in the middle the strip club The Universal Lounge had their own stand - where they offered 5 minute trial lap-dances for $20.

Amongst the $20 lap-dances, How-To fellatio videos, the lurking Jurassic Cock and shelf upon shelf upon shelf of vibrators was some other really interesting stuff: A woman who made nude sculptures with nothing but a giant block of wood and a chainsaw; a hippy-looking stand that offered natural herb alternatives for everything from viagra to ecstacy; various food displays (all somehow sexual - food products made from chilli, assorted sauces, chocolate (the stand for which was off-puttingly named "The Fudge Man"), and 'mixed nuts'); a relaxation and massage (not that kind of massage) centres, and enough leather and lace to put both Meatloaf and Bonnie Tyler to shame.

By 2:30pm it was time to head back towards the stage, where we received a second showering from Tyrannosaurus Dix (even though we specifically avoided the bandstand this time), and watched four couples competing in a fake orgasm competition. The winner of this competition was a Taxi driver who, while miming thrusts enthusiastically to his partner (who was writhing and squealing quite convincingly herself), shouted over and over again "WHO'S YOUR CABBIE? WHO'S YOUR CABBIE!?!" Even the host was rendered speechless.

Then we headed back to one of the many porn stands, where Paul got his photo taken with a porn star called Devinn Lane (who's quite famous, apparently, but I'd never heard of her because really, if I'm going to watch porn it isn't the names I'm interested in). Paul hadn't heard of her either, but it was one of those random moments of crap glory that he could treasure forever. To tell the truth I'm kind of jealous I didn't get one myself - but I didn't do too badly, with my Playboy shot glasses (featuring the bunny logo) and "PornStar" T-shirt (which is actually rather tight-fitting, because hey, it was Sexpo and I was feeling adventurous).

Six hours, Five laps of the building, four free studded "Roughrider" condoms, three strip shows, two sprayings from Phallusiraptor (oh, the euphemisms), one meeting with a porn star and several dozen sets of genitals later, and our day at Sexpo was over.

I can't wait until next year. Who knows, maybe those scooters will have come back into fashion in the mean time, and the condoms might actually come in handy.

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