How Every Type of Porn Has Tainted Our Sex Lives (Part 2 of 2)

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The problem with the Japanese is that, well, they're not right in the head. Some of their societal faux-pas include packaged school-girl underpants with "authentic pre-pubescent fragrance WAW!" (I figure making fun of their pedophilic tendencies is enough to warrant some racism, fuck you), early-morning rape channels to go with your dry oatmeal flakes before heading off to work in mass-production assembly lines 14 hours straight 7 days a week to make your country one of the boomiest global economies (don't strike if you're unhappy, though; instead BLACKARMBANDSBANZAI!), and Hentai publications (basically comic book porn) that are distributed about as widespread as Beano comics thanks to strict censorship laws forbidding the depiction of genitalia.

But Demon-tentacle rape, totally cool.

PLEASE STOP THE FUCKING VOICES!

The problem with Hentai porn is that no matter what the sexual recipient is going through, they're enjoying the fuck out of it. Yet the dynamics of the relationship taking place are more often than not dominant-submissive: one gives the pleasure in a confident, teaching-you-the-ropes manner, the other one is shy, ashamed, harboring thoughts that sex was a squatting position to adopt in a field and "oh my God, what is God and my ancestors thinking about me up in Heaven" until the orgasms start coming. These have the explosive consistency of about once every two pages. In human terms, that's one climax every eight or so seconds.

Recently converted to atheism.

Okay, not such a bad premise, I'm sure I'm sharing my views with all the male readers that Japanese fiction is our reality, whereas shaking and fumbling around the bra clasp while slobbering into her eyeballs and cumming in my pants is for the losers of this world (I meant to say "cumming in the pants"); we totally tear that shit up 100% of the time all of the time. I'm so used to seeing a woman's climax face that I call my dick "Timotei Honeycomb Shampoo," and I only bring the shower when she's ready to rinse.

Oh, she'll be needing a comb alright.

The problems come when viewing the wide range of scenarios these graphic artists cook up, where their imaginations and the law are the only boundaries to what they can illustrate: rape, bestiality, incest, demon-rape, incest-rape, furniture-rape, gang-rape, every single Japanese cartoon that was once your most cherished childhood friend (now completely raped), alien-rape, under-age "deflowering," bukkake, the list goes on. Might as well cut your dick off now, buddy, you won't be needing it anymore if Hentai is where you get your lover's sense of suave from.

For honor.

Without going too far into the deeper, seedier recesses of human demand, I bring you some standard niche porn types that will not help you in improving your sexual prowess:

Facials

Nothing says "I love you" more than coating her head in man glue. If she could open her eyes to look at you and her mouth to speak, she'd probably let you know the feeling was mutual on the proviso she's into role playing big budget Hollywood films starring Brendon Frasier.

Cum in the eyes and this film are interchangeable.

Abuse: Choking/Happy Slapping/"Dicking the Mother-in-Law"

Again, she might be into it, but what was once exclusive to bondage and S&M (or John Holmes films—but he measured 12 inches, he could do what he damn well pleased), now is seen as common practice in pornography, as if to say, "If you're not moist with the feverish cock-slapping of your forehead (‘dicking the mother-in-law'), let me see what else is in my bag'o tricks."

Bukkake

See "Facials" above, but with more men. A lot more men. Sometimes in a circle, sometimes in a line for the uber-straight guys among you not wanting to get caught in the crossfire, because by the time it's your turn, jacking off onto something that by the best of your deductive skills could be a woman or a candle with tits is totally the most heterosexual thing you could do. In the meantime, keep beating it surrounded by men doing likewise, all of you looking at the ceiling for fear of making eye contact; think about the microwave dinner you're going to have in front of Season 1 repeats of Nip Tuck and don't lose your drive, man!

"She just kept asking for more. Wh-… why would she do that?"

Granny Porn

Trust me, my friend, when you're 85 and all you can fuck is what you're beating it to presently, you'll look back on these days.

"Oh God, I've wasted my youth."

Ass to Mouth

Conveniently abbreviated to ATM, unless you're a porn director, this ain't where the money comes from. Originally I had come to associate such a term with anal sex followed by oral sex, but the more educated I became amidst other porn connoisseurs, the more such internet-funded scholarships on degeneracy taught me that absolutely anything can go in opposite ends of the digestive tract and still keep millions of perverts content for the bandwidth expended.

Fisting

Hey, you know what achieves the same desired effect? Childbirth. It probably takes around 9 months to get right, too.

Gapes

Gapes are centered on the "flesh dynamics" of a human body, as in stretching holes as wide as possible. It can focus on the vagina or the asshole, but it's mainly the asshole. If you've ever wondered what's holding your girlfriend together, well then gapes are for you, my friend. Don't tarry, spread that muscle as far as it'll go and behold the Watchmaker's design of your true significant other. Porn specialty DVDs of this niche spend a lot of time inserting monstrously over-sized objects wherever they'll fit, making you think, "Oh; well, I wasn't fond of that particular bowling ball anyway— hey it's coming back out with a smile on its face!"

Secondary effects on the cerebrum may vary; safety goggles advised.

Foot Fetish

I'm enamoured by the female form, and when it comes to celebrating it, nothing is off-limits. My phone number is 00322 675 11 28. But I like to admire it as one complete body of work…a work of art. Foot fetishes are like buying a house for the one brick that lines the driveway. Then masturbating on it.

Scat

No need to go into why this is wrong. My mother once told me, "People are fascinated by the opening of the anus; don't ever shit on a glass table for money." Probably why I'll always be averse to the practice. That's some good advice.

I'm not a socially acceptable person because of porn; there are looks I give in regular, populated locales that essentially say, "So you wanna do it right here, right now? Don't mind them—they can watch or join in, whichever," and others that are purely, "GIMME THAT PUSSY!" (and these are directed at friends of mine, I should add).

"I'm totally cool if we never speak again afterwards."

I've lost track of the times I've ordered something and the good-customer-care counter clerk has smiled at me taking the order, only to leave a real uncomfortable 5 minutes or so as I smirk with a mixture of pent up sexual frustration and the desire for understanding. The atmosphere lingers to the point she gives me my "six-inch meatball and cheese" sub which I didn't want anyway because I was looking for a way to say, "So, you wanna trade one six-inch and meatballs sub for another? Is there any way you're not getting my drift?"

Alternatively, could I bury my face into your assorted meats baguette?

Do you know how many barriers a man has to go through just to speak to a woman now that porn's insinuated all you have to do is walk up to them and say, "Your ass, my dick; I have a van"? This stupidly direct approach is bringing up all kinds of defenses, and on top of it, any heartfelt gesture towards helping them can be misconstrued as a means to pretentiously break through the ice, where women scrupulously observe every gesture to see if you're renewing her grandmother's insulin prescription because you're a real doctor or whether you just want her to touch the tip with a finger.

Do you know how many times I've read articles on "does size matter?" and "does size really matter?" Plus you see all these banner ads that show what you can achieve in just under three weeks of performing dumbbell dong-squats. This can be tricky when searching for porn—how do I know a scene is "the one with the money shot" unless I'm reaching the point of no return? If it isn't, I've blown the screen up full-size only to stop midway, smearing lube all over my escape key and mouse so as to backtrack that day's page visits.

Save the lube and PC repair costs when they don't even have to go through your browser history to know you're a pervert—they just need to fix your keyboard. When I have a twenty-inch cock and a ruler staring in my face moving like an installation progress bar next to what I'm trying to focus on, any scene is by default "the one with the money shot."

But then porn stars are porn stars for a reason, unless we're dealing with specialist baby-cock porn (speaks for itself). Personally, I've got what I've got, and no amount of screaming battle war-cries in the mirror is going to change that. A woman is going to use whatever hangups I have about myself in the most public of places whenever I forget to top-up her phone credit or change the linens, and really, if I had to give her ammo, I'm glad that it's the fact I can't live up to the standards set by genetically modified silver back gorillas with the warmth of a crowbar coated in saliva.

"And you're in a fucking wheelchair! Pathetic!"

Women hate their vaginas, says science. Ever come across a picture and thought, "My God, I've discovered the crown jewel of poon!"? Chances are if you have, then so have women. By the law that a woman's vagina matches her face, by association beautiful, elegant women (pornstars and glamour models) have beautiful, elegant vaginas that meet several times a year to frolic over verdant fields, fluttering to the sounds of Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony, swaying and joining to embrace in the heated throws of throbbing passions. Please tell me there's a Heaven like it, and when I die I get unlimited amounts of butterscotch popcorn.

But does this give us high expectations on trim-jobs without the rashes and… how thick the cut of the lamb? Some women have such distended labia that it looks as though a Y-chromosome super-sperm managed to survive beyond its regular 24-hour life-span by feeding off internal organs, awaiting the right moment to muscle into the egg long after fertilization and trying to beat mitosis into doing something it insists it would do if it could. Do pristine-porno vaginas fuel a woman's insecurity about the many unique, fascinating, beautiful, and glorious ways a flesh-bologna-fish-patty can be shaped? Too much cutlet never stopped me before, ladies. My number again: 00322 675 11 28.

So there we have it folks; even sex-ed DVDs are a waste of time, a mash-up of trying to remember, "So did it say insert finger B into hole C after running foot A over nipple B and smearing olive oil over your face with my buttocks?" What I would advise is communication, and not the type like, "Hey, it's Christmas; Fred's all alone at home and I was just thinking…" If we could understand that all genitalia looks and functions pretty much identically, stopped caring about our fitness levels or whatever other psychological hindrances popular culture is infusing into our minds and learned to be responsive in the bedroom without crucifixes and holy water by the bedside, maybe it could all become a natural means by which we could learn to respect one another and have endless, carefree fun until Armageddon comes, no? Yes, 00322 675 11 28.

Day or night.