Porn O' Plenty

I have a substantial porn collection. Not an illegal amount, but enough to get me by in the event of a nuclear (or "nucular" as the Prez would say) explosion. I think I'll be good so long as the radiation poison doesn't affect my hands (in case I'm a sole survivor) or genitals (in case I'm a sole survivor). Although I haven't bought any new DVD's since this afternoon, it's still a collection to be reckoned with.

But now with my daughter getting older and being a latch-key kid, I'm being pressured to give them away, it's just not comfortable having them around the house anymore. At least that's what my girl says. I understand that, I'm not crazy. But the voices are telling me that secretly, she never liked my collection to begin with. Deep in my heart of hearts, I think she's actually resentful of it.

What has Butt-hole Pleasures ever done to you?, I ask. Oh, did Jenna Jameson look at you funny or something? Did you and Obsession happen to wear the same dress at a party? For the love of Christ, woman?!

What she fails to understand is that, to me, it's more than just porn (short for "pornography"). To me, it's like comfort food. Like meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Toothless, blind, syphilitic and imprisoned in the worst Mexican jail, I could still comfort myself with the thought, "Well, at least I still have my Vanessa Del Rio tapes."

And it's not just me. These tapes have been a source of comfort to so many other people.

"Oh, so you missed the game winning free throw? I know what'll do the trick. Here's Booty Talk #28. Check out scene 3 with Caramel and Mr. Marcus."

"Oh, the IRS caught up with you and your unreported income over the last 12 years? Check out Vanessa Blue's Greatest Hits. You'll particularly be interested in the barn scene. Just what ya need, bruh."

"So your job caught you renewing your NAMBLA membership at work? Oooh...yeah...ummm...I think I'm gonna have to go ahead and wish you good luck on that one..."

Research has shown that ejaculating men have a 0% chance of killing someone 15-20 seconds after the orgasm. "You know I really wanna kill that muhfucka, if I ever see him again...wait...Heather Hunter?...ah...ahhh....ahhhhh. I love you, man!"

My dilemma remains: Who can I trust with my porn collection? Who will take care of Caramel, Vanessa Blue, and Janet Jackme, the way I do? You don't just let anyone babysit your children.
And how do you go about giving it away? How do you broach the subject? Do you take out an ad? Do you hand them out on the street? No. You give them to people you know and respect.

So I ask my boss if she wants my tape Nymphos III and she gets all freaked out, talking about harassment. Yeah, in your dreams sweetcheeks!

eBay here I cum!

Or not!