Posts Tagged ‘porn’


Whaddaya know.

  When I write the word “porn,” traffic jumps.

  Porn porn porn porn porn.

  Porn.

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Porno. Yeah, that’s right, I SAID it.

I noticed last night that the commercials for Zack and Miri Make a Porno have started referring to it as just “Zack and Miri.” And it’s not like it was even during the early evening when your precious little offspring might be watching. This was around 11:30 p.m.

I’m not sure how I feel about that. On the one hand, free speech (!!!). On the other… no, you know what? Screw that. I think we can all handle explaining to a child that “porno” is like “hell” or “damn” or “douchebag” or any other word they hear at 6 p.m. on network TV. It’s a word that is not to be said in your kindergarten classroom. (And for the record, how many times has TBS replayed the episode of Friends where the guys get free porn? How many times is the word “porn” used, and that’s perfectly fine for early evening “family time” fare?)

Also? If asked, just tell your curious little ankle-biter the truth: “A ‘porno’ is a movie for grownups, and it may or may not also feature animals, and bad hair in every area imaginable.” What’s the big kerfuffle?!

I would not, however, recommend telling them about that Pirates porn flick. I think it might create a smidge of cognitive dissonance with the kid-friendly pirate marketing that Disney has worked so hard on. Heh. I said “hard on.”

I digress.

I’m going to be a horrible parent. My kid’s going to drink 10 Mountain Dews a day and go to school with gum in his hair and know what a porno is. Excellent. Where’s THAT bumper sticker?


My Semi-Notorious Past

I’ve been griping talking recently about how I took a part time job with my old employer in order to pay the bills after law school graduation. This has generated a certain amount of interest,  since the employer in question is an adult video website.

In order to streamline the discussion, I’m reposting something that I wrote on my Livejournal in January of 2006, just before the end of my first year in porn. If you’re curious about the depths of banality that I plumbed while working in the adult industry, keep reading. And when you notice particularly boring, repetitive tasks, keep in mind that those are all I’m doing these days. Enjoy.

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More Collected Observations

The bar exam looms ever larger, like a long zoom from orbit to the surface of a planet. To help me maintain my increasingly fragile sanity, here is another mishmash of thoughts and musings that have been sloshing around in my brainmeats between attempts at re-reading my Contracts outline.

  • There is a charter high school between the bus stop and work. There are two flags hanging in its front window, reminiscent of the championship banners professional sports teams hang in their stadiums. They tout the fact (and I wish I were making this up) that the school achieved “Adequate Yearly Progress” in 2007 and 2008. Huzzah for mediocrity! Seriously, if that’s the standard for big ass banners these days, then I need to get to the big ass banner store ASAP.
  • I once had the idea to start a line of “Big Ass” merchandise, selling oversized versions of everyday objects. It started during that period in the 90s when people were wearing those jeans with legs so wide you could smuggle farm animals in them. I was going to sell “Big Ass” jeans, and move on to t-shirts, powertools, truck tires, and anything else that was amenable to gross oversizing. Once again, the lack of start-up capital proved to be my undoing.
  • At work, I just added a title to our inventory called The Facesitter From Ipanema. Aside from being an awkward jape on the title of the bossa nova classic “The Girl From Ipanema, ” it raises an obvious question. If a woman is straddling your face, coercing you to perform cunnilingus by the threat of asphyxiating you with her buttocks and thighs, does it really matter what town she’s from?
  • Speaking of adequate progress, I spelled “asphyxiating” right on the first try. Hello, big ass banner store? Yes, I need to add something to my order.
  • How much dust has to accrete on a mug left in an office kitchen before it is considered abandoned and available for common use? I use visible discoloration as a guideline. If the dust alters or obscures the color of the mug, then, if I clean it, I feel entitled to use it.
  • Sadly, I forgot the second “c” in “accrete.” Cancel my big ass banner order.
  • Getting used to where the light switches are may be the most prickly, annoying thing about getting adjusted to a new apartment. If I turn on the light in the hall closet instead of turning out the light in the living room one more frickin’ time, I’m going to puke on someone.
  • I am putting together a project for after the bar exam is over. It is, by virtue of its size, a necessarily collaborative venture. I will have to lock my inner control freak in the closet for awhile.
  • I always have the best ideas when I’m far too busy to possibly develop them adequately.