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Request: Masturbation

The eighties had a lot of mistakes, but the film clip to Alice Cooper's 'Poison' was not one of them. Rage would show the uncensored version, and me, I saw a lot of Rage.

This was before the internet, before pornography was easy to find. It was, or it seemed, at any rate, easier to actually see a real girl naked that it was to find pornography, keep it from your parents, or whoever was censoring your world of naked air brushed women. Certainly, I saw naked girls before I saw naked images--the woman living two houses down would sun bake topless in the summer, and my friends and I could press our eyes up to the cracks between the wooden slats in the fence, and see her. She must have known. There was no way that she couldn't have. The word subtle hadn't yet been found by any of us.

But porn?

Man, that was fucking work.

The truth about technology is this: it is progress is only measurable by the speed that it brings sex to you.

Think about it: If you had no money, you couldn't just type any old shit into google and get a string of images and go to town. No, you had to hope you stumbled across the elusive, hidden cache of magazines that others had secreted around the neighbourhood. Beneath rocks in parts, in secret hideouts, in the cupboards of your friends parents. Books were a good source, too, because no one monitored books, and they were worse than anything you could get caught with. Everyone had their favourite books. But what I'm trying to say is that it was work. It was easier to find real naked girls (or, I suppose, boys).

Which is why, perhaps, I'm not talking about porn. No, what I'm talking about instead is her, and her is all she'll be named, because there are things for this blog, and things that are not for this blog, but she had such a beautiful voice, and she would call, and she would speak to me unlike anyone else. Oh, sure, other girls would attempt to speak like her, but there was no little hush in their voice, no ability to quiet, teasing laugh, no words like she quite had. Ah, but she had such beautiful words, too, or perhaps it was just that it meant something to her to be saying them, and meant something to me to say them back, and to hear them, and to say all the things I ever wanted without inhibition, and have another person who would was there with me.

But it's gone now, which is a shame, truly, because it's been a long time now, and there's no chance of having that experience as it once was again.

So, instead, I leave you with this site, which is just perfection, and this song, because it makes me laugh to put it here:



(This post was requested by Paul Haines paulhaines, who said, "most memorable wank experiences (both good and bad, even nightmarish)." It's part of a meme that gets me to post about things that I don't usually post about. Challenge me, huh? Anyhow, it's still vaguely amusing, so it'll probably go for a while yet as I work through the ones I've got. You wanna drop someone in, feel free.)