Do you remember the days before the Internet? No, nor can I. I have a vague feeling of disgust of being about 17 and buying a porn mag from a newsagent as far away from my mum’s house as possible. I would never go back to this place again. That trouser rubbing dirty feeling of taking it off the shelf and looking at the bint of the front page and almost shaking at the thought of the ‘things you are going to do to ‘er later’ (in 2d), and vague plans to read the stories inside. Those days were replaced for me the day I walked into PC World and chirpily spent £2199 (on credit) on a compaq Pentium 1, 266mhz thing (with the intention of playing Championship Manager) and remember the first time it connected to the internet, it was Compaq’s bulletin board, it took about 7 hrs to download all the fixes to repair this piece of shit that was fucked from the moment it came out of the box and got its first virus from the air, it was so shit I think it was powered by real organs and got pneumonia or something.
With very flaky search engines at the time, AltaVista was in its infancy, I stumbled on some porn. This event opened my “third eye” to the realms and droves of porn that was on offer for free, regardless of relationship status. All males look at porn; I don’t care what they say, even blind people, you can see them pursing their lips as they rub their hands over Braille pictures of the woman from the Hello video taking it from Lionel up every hole (they only look at other blind people you know).
Nowadays with the swift move from 33.6 and 56k modems we move into the digital age where the entire series of Cum Dumpsters or Piss Drinkers 1-14 can be fully downloaded while you sleep snugly in your bed and will be ready in the morning for you to scan through swiftly going from the segments of attempted acting, straight to the beery FROTHY pissing on the poor lasses face, or the poor naïve girl who has effectively had the entire population of the world cock spat all over her once pretty face (usually Japanese).
In today’s super digital age, we should be downloading wonderful works of fiction and history from great civilisations, and connecting with people across the world to share views and find togetherness and make the world smaller, instead, men come in from work, sit and have a microwave meal, and then follow a link sent by a mate to a grainy video of an Afghan goat herder smashing one of his poor flock from behind while it bleats for a help that will never come. Anyway, off topic, bestiality is not porn, its just filth, its more comedy than porn, overall though, its just cruel, both to the animal and to the misguided usually German rubber muffed cunt hulk who is taking the entire stead, balls deep, and ending with a bad perm full of chew marks and hoof prints and spittle in her hair from it neighing. (I have never watched a bestiality video for the record, honest guv, I have however, watched the faces of friends who have, and the shock and awe was enough for me, thanks for asking).
Porn distorts the view of a normal relationship, young porn addled men will look in horror when a boob is “slightly” different to the other and gasp when a women gets naked to reveal a normal “warts and all” body and not in fact pneumatic porn tits, sparrows beak of a vagina and flawless skin and an arse like a space hopper, and this all while they stand there with their paunch and average semi flaccid wiener on show.
I canvassed some of my mates to find out the amount of time (or clicks) it takes for an innocent minded internet surfing session to turn into a distorted trouser removing one handed cock wrestle ending in a veritable geezer of pure life into the nearest receptacle, the answer surprised me. I had wagered about 7, (say Sky news, BBC news, for the truth, twitter, Facebook, other Facebook account for stalking, gmail account and youtube). It was actually about 3, this might speak low of the people I know, but I actually think it’s probably quite truthful.
It’s a sad time when folk no longer need to work for their porn, men have always had to work for it, back in the days when the original works of grot were carved into stone tablets (ironically, these usually involved bestiality) to grotty mags like Razzle, to now, where a click of a mouse will fill your sordid hard drive with enough cock to go around Birmingham, and enough volume of vagina to rescue the Chilean Miners.
Porn has its place, but if it takes over your life, you have a problem, as a guide, take a tape measure, and measure your wrist that you “pour a hand shandy” with, if it’s the same diameter as your neck, you should seek urgent help.
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