Semi-approval from a porn fiend's semi

From the Department of Things Normal People Just Know But I Had to Learn by Having My Day Ruined*: Don't read online comments, SPECIFICALLY the ones on porn featuring women of a similar size/shape to you.

"Not bad for a chubby chick," says some 45-year-old serial masturbator in his mother's basement. 

If I ever write a book, I want "Not bad for a chubby chick" to be the review blurb on the cover. Wait, actually...yeah, that'll be the title. 

If I may borrow from a Chris Rock bit: "Yeah, I got a gut -- there's some good pussy under this gut." Can you say the same about your dick, Rando Calrissian?

* Kidding -- my day can't really be ruined by people who comment on porn.

Freudian slipstick

Email to a friend...

Me: "I am juvenile. But damn, there are a lot of jokes here. "

Friend: "I mean, how are you supposed to NOT make jokes at that? They may as well have named the shades 'John Holmes' and 'Ron Jeremy.' 'Yeah, rub it on your face, baby.'"

Me: "HA! Aaand THAT is why we're friends."

Followup thought: "Gargantuan Golden SHOWERS." Hey-o!

 

"Did your dick get stung by 90 bees?!"

Sometimes I forget how much porn (erm..."erotica") I follow on Tumblr until I open the app at work and "OMG, that's a vagina. Gahhh, shut it down, shut it down!"

See also: wang. Giant, scary, first scene of "Trainwreck" wang.

“Your dick doesn’t end! Why doesn’t your dick end?!”

As if "Fuller House" weren't appalling enough...

Eeeeewwwwwww!

At the same time...respect... 

Via Decider:  

P.S. I saw a link for a porn parody of this over the weekend, but could not bring myself to click to watch Fuller Holes, even under the guise of "research."

Putting the "surge" in "resurgence."

The bad news is, I am sick as fuck.

The good news is, depending on the minute, I either sound like Sick Phoebe singing her sultry version of "Smelly Cat" on Friends, or like I could successfully supplement my income by taking a side gig as a phone sex operator. (Is phone sex even still a thing? Probably not. I'm behind the porn ball. No, wait... Ew... But I could totally bring it back. Like flannel shirts. Porny ones...)

Right. So clearly I should be keeping an eye on my temperature, because delirium is setting in.

Hunting the rare and elusive uniporn

Holy shit, you guys. I think I've found some sort of porn holy grail.

Lots of kissing; equal and enthusiastic oral for both parties; no spitting; normal-shaped woman with the cutest tummy curve and a great ass; reasonably attractive man with a big yet non-threatening dick; enough talking/sounds to convey appreciation and a good time being had by all, but no obviously fake, exaggerated noises or commentary; perfect line walked between request and command from both participants; dude moaning a bit in her ear and grabbing her ass, hips, shoulders, neck, and hair; believable-enough orgasms (multiple!) for the lady; and his first move was to bend her over.

And I am just enough of a narcissist to be really into the fact that the woman moves and sounds like I do. 

It's like a unicorn of porn -- it's a uniporn.

Ahem... Um... So... I have to go, uhhhh... take care of a few things... It's pretty important...

(Hey, you fix bad days your way, I fix them mine.)

You, sir, are a gentleman and a scholar.

I wanna high-five every male porn star who goes down on his lady for more than a minute.

I mean, it almost never happens, so it wouldn't take long. I'd probably get a lot of other stuff done that day. Starting with hand washing.

Pornotherapy

New rule: If my therapist really wants me to be "comfortable," I have to be allowed to take off my bra. And have a glass of wine.

But I guess that's how some porno movies start, so maybe that's not what I'm going for.

Then AGAIN, I am pretty much never more comfortable than I am post-orgasm. 

So. Ideal therapeutic session: slightly tipsy, bra-less, post-coital. *nod* I think I've found my business model.