Porn-No

Last Thursday I was taking an innocent drive down Silver Lake Boulevard in Los Angeles. I was quite close to Griffith Park and the houses were rich, colorful and very obviously built for the country-club set. That's why the porno that was being shot outside of one seemed quite out of place.

"Porno", you ask yourself? "Matt, are you taking those funny pills again?", you might say. Well, SHUT YOUR FILTHY WHORE MOUTH FOR DOUBTING ME.

Driving my fancy-pants BMW convertible, I caught a huge ass out of the corner of my eye. Usually, I wouldn't notice such a thing, but this ass (even in my periphery) was an object to behold; other asses sit around campfires, sipping whiskey and recounting their ever-so-brief encounters with this ass. Ass historians will write books analyzing this ass's place in the pantheon of wondrous asses. If Paul McCartney had seen this posterior in 1968, the song would be called "Hey Ass". Did I mention it was huge?

Anyway, as I turned to look, I saw the woman the ass was attached to. Now, I'm not one to judge: but she definitely had no soul behind her eyes and her spirits had been crushed by years of never-ending abuse and severe drug problems. Did I mention her ass was huge?

Standing on the street, dressed in a cut-off tee that exposed underboob, and cut off jean shorts that exposed ass-crack, she stood next to a pole, caressing her body and staring directly into a camera, which was being held by a man who looked like he was just happy to be there.

The kicker was her co-star in the video; standing in a wife-beater exposing a thin, wiry frame with skull tattoos, his black hair was slicked back and a pubic-hair mustache sat limply above his top lip. His lips were perched into a what seemed like a frozen kiss and I heard him make various grunting noises at his lady companion.

It was like something out of a Fellini movie. I mean, I enjoy porn as much as the next sex-crazed inveterate pervert, but seeing it being shot took all the mystique out of it. The magic was gone! Say it ain't so, pornographic producer...say it ain't so.

Who would have thought Pornography was so depressing, filled with degenerate lowlifes taking advantage of broken souls who have no hope of redemption? It came as a complete shock to me! It literally turned my world upsidedown. Left is right and right is left, apple sauce tastes like oysters and if you fry tacos in green tea they taste like shoes.

That said, I will continue to watch pornography with no compunction whatsoever. I gotta support the arts, you know?

Anyway, here's a few tips to pornographers to make all our experiences better:

1) NO CLOSE UPS: Jesus Christ, do we need to see the ass herpes, razor burns and track marks? At least put a blur filter on.
2) NEVER, EVER, CUT TO THE DUDE: We don't want to see that muscular, ape looking gentleman going "oooh, yeah, bitch, pussy time!" while grimacing with all the sexual machismo of Pauly Shore and Carrot Top's illegitimate lovechild.
3) WHAT'S UP WITH THE SHOTS OF THE IN-AND-OUT: I know what sex looks like, thank you very much. Do we need a close up of the old "in-and-out" for 90% of the video? If pornography is supposed to be a sex-surrogate, then my question is, who the hell has sex and stares at a penis entering a vagina the entire time? Try it. I betcha your sex partner will call the police.
4) NO GAPE/STRETCHING BODY PARTS, PLEASE: Since when has pornography become an anatomy lesson?...What's inside should be inside, and no matter what: it's not sexy. I literally vomit tears each and every time we begin to "take a look". I will say nothing further for fear my fingers will commit suicide.