Saturday, May 08, 2004


I'm sitting here listening to "Seventeen" and thinking to myself, man, Winger is my fucking hero. Okay, not really, I just wondered what it would be like to say that, if only once.

You know, you don't look nauseated enough, so I'm going to talk about jerking off. Over the years, porn magazines have become less and less of a turnon. They just don't do much for me, which kinda sucks, because porn is pretty much all I'm ever going to have. It's hard to keep a decent stiffy, even with my Japanese schoolgirl fetish mags. Actually, those are even worse. Why? Sadly, because I find myself trying to read the stupid words. Not that there's much that I can read, but I can read bits and pieces. It just takes way too much mental effort to do that and maintain an erection at the same time. Men, as we all know, have a limited number of resources that we can allocate to our activities at any given time. It's a zero-sum game.

This sad state of affairs doesn't stop me from continuing to buy any of this shit, though. It's just kind of a collector thing now. Skin mags are becoming some kind of low-rent (and of course, low-class) art for me.

Just to kick it old school, I went back and re-familiarized myself with some old friends today. I decided to bust out some of my old issues of Mayfair, a great British magazine from Paul Raymond Publications. Paul Raymond is like the best human being ever, whether or not he's real. Mayfair and its sister publication Mayfair Model Directory (which I'm not sure if they're making anymore, which would be sad indeed) were just the fucking best. Simple, for sure; a bunch of hot chicks naked. That's usually all I'm looking for, at least in the magazine regime. I'm pretty easy to please. But yeah, it was nice to see something that's not chock full of nothing but shitty dye job platinum blondes and gigantic fucking fake tits. A nice mix of small breasts and larger breasts, blondes and brunettes with some redheads thrown in there, and many of them just bloody gorgeous. I might have to get a subscription to Mayfair, you know, for the art collection.

There are some others that PRP puts out, but they're mostly crap. As I recall, Razzle is TBA (to be avoided). The only reason we have some of those is because either ETP or I got some copies of it packaged with some other magazines we were buying.

Yes, "we." I wasn't planning on this being such an in-depth look at how fucking sad I am, but what the hell. You see, back in the day, ETP and I had a porn stash that we shared between the two of us. It was simply referred to as "The Library." It was somewhat legendary amongst the people we knew. We'd even let others check things out from the library; the only requirement you had to meet in order to get a library "card" was that you had to contribute something to the stash. We only got a couple of outside contributions, like from this one fucking kid who gave me a Jenny McCarthy poster in exchange for his membership. The poster giveaway had ulterior motives, though; this kid didn't want it anymore because, and I quote, he "wanted to be able to see a hot chick and still be able to get a boner." Like I said, the kid was a loser. TCFM.

Anyway, ETP and I had no qualms with The Library and sharing porno since the two of us are pretty much like brothers. Fucked up siblings, yeah, but whatever. Shit, I lived underneath ETP's penis for nine months freshman year of college (I took the lower bunk in the dorms), so neither of us had any issues with sharing issues of porn mags. Maybe we should have, but we didn't. Hey, we knew we could trust one another. If I, uh, misfired in the vicinity of a particular issue, I'd let him know what page to look out for. We're good like that. Besides, it's not like there was ever any circle jerk action going on. Sorry to disappoint, and not like anyone will believe it.

Yeah, you're welcome.

No comments: