Hoppy Hirstmas

Nice and Easy. Classic, right? Website devoted to Inflatable Reindeer, too.

Lee Przybylowicz

Have you ever dreamed, or even passingly considered, participating in the voluntary sexual humiliation of another person? Look under 'Related Videos' and you can see his full portfolio of videos of humiliation and CBT and pee and stuff. By viewing, you're participating.
Maybe it's like cuckolding, though. People get off on naughtiness, badness, wrongness - meanness and sadness and pain and things. Masturbatory ego indulgence. This guy apparently LOVES to show off his self-described tiny penis. William Hung celebrity status.

Cock and Ball Torture, or CBT

CBT is dangerous. Romero-splatter dangerous.

cervical scars

The twist is that she's doing this TO HERSELF.

Poke Her Face (ugh)

Cute.
Lady Gaga/Katy Pervy porno.

The Japanese Maturity Woman

In my millenial-generation jadedness, a reactive pathos is made necessary- studiously sincere, I wonder who this reluctant but apparently consenting Yoko woman is - the films indicate that in the early 80's she was around 40 years old. The films themselves appear to be authentically amateur, owing as much to the camera work (stationary? on a tripod?) as to her unshaved, unpolished, beleagured resignation. She would have been born in 1944, making her just a year old when the bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki - she'd be 67 today. (I CAN MATH) I wonder if her house was damaged by the tsunami, and if she ever got divorced or stayed with the guy in these videos. I can't assume that she didn't enjoy herself, I suppose - maybe it was a sub/dom situation or maybe she was just tired.

Stained

Wonderful.

Adventures on Sexroulette: Vol. 2

The Good Dr. Benjamin, Koko, and Ill orchestrated FOX and BUNNY handpuppets on sexroulette. Two gents in particular stood out, as they continued to jerk off even when they saw that their chat partner was just two handpuppets screwing.

Greige

This isn't porn, but it is about the millenial generation's Jenna Jameson - Sasha Grey, the too-much referred to enthusiastic, intellectual, and uber-liberal porn starlet. *
This article is a critique of the neutered porn-ness that disengages the general population from their own obsession with on-demand sex - the way that the porn star, and the porn world, have to be decontextualized and reconstructed to make palatable in the daytime what is shamefully pleasing after dark; or, as Zak Smith** writes, "Those who enjoy whatever private pleasure is to be gained from receiving physical pain publicly would appear not to overlap at all with those who enjoy whatever private pleasure is to be gained from inflicting shame collectively."

Also, it includes lines like this one "There is a cut to the nearly all-female audience looking like they are watching a live appendectomy being performed on an unanesthetized kitten after having been told that, if they move at all, the kitten will be impaled on fence spikes and then incinerated."

*In my opinion, she seems to have one very sleepy eye-fucking facial expression that seems almost comical in its studious but hollow attempt at seductiveness.
** I have an imaginary romantic relationship with Zak Smith.

Just pretend this is Beowulf

Computer Animated Beast Blowjob, as created by a horny graphic design major at SUNY Buffalo in 1999 and starring this girl he's got a chubby for who is "kind of into acting and totally comfortable with [her] sexuality." Can you try for a moment to imagine what it must be like to PRETEND to be rubbing a penis belonging to a monster all over your face, which is coated with [imaginary] ejaculate? Go Bulls.

Enormous Balls

Whales have huge balls. Right whales have ENORMOUS balls, which weigh, literally, a ton. Also, they have threesomes. This article is fairly interesting and super informative, and it's about whale penises.

Gap Sex

If any Gap company EXCEPT OLD NAVY made sex, it would look like this. A bleach-sanitized porno- something you could show your prude girlfriend who doesn't even like sex because she gets turned off by the squishy, bushy, noisy wet parts of coitus. The organic, human, vulnerable, intimate parts. This is the safest porn I've seen outside of softcore, and it looks like it was shot right before/after (during?) an N*Sync video.
The parent company is X-Art, whose website markets "beautiful erotica" on a very flashy, classy website. This shit looks completely professional - sparkling, healthy and homogeneous young models and their hairless, tiny pussies. Young men who probably play lacrosse but are in the off-season and have neither bruises nor intimidating musculature are in a constant state of erection for the suburban sex they gamely perform. The videos themselves sound like the "racy" titles Nars gives their cosmetics ("tenderness," "naked in the sun," "naughty girl"). I sincerely find this kind of porn a bummer - it seems miserably art-less and scrupulously benign - I imagine the men's cumshots (of which I was unable to locate in a video on the site) smell faintly of febreeze and taste like flat Fresca. It's hardly porn - more like easily digested, warm soapy intercourse.

Vanilla Beans vol. 1

It begs the question, "are we truly advancing as a species?" when the single greatest puppet-themed sex flick was introduced in 1976. It's niche market has been cornered, and virtually uncontested ever since. I suppose the endless panoply of televised, pilly, role models of the 70s and 80s, hands twisting and shucking at their insides, is gone. And I, as a product of that era, should have guessed that the grown-ups merely planted me in front of a screen glowing with Sesame Street, Pinwheel, the Muppets and Muppet Babies, as a means to fulfill their daily fisting requirements, and nothing more. But those shows have largely disappeared. So what sort of demand is there for this type of thing anymore? Maybe this is more about the cathode ray babysitter vs. the broadband babysitter. Maybe I should just shut the fuck up and let you watch, nay - experience, LET MY PUPPETS COME.

Adventures on Sexroulette: Part 1

WATCHING AN OLD GUY JERK OFF

I don't have many hobbies. If "owning a cat" doesn't count as a hobby, then I don't have any hobbies at all. So, here's what I spent the last 20 minutes doing: eating a quesadilla, smoking pot, and going on sexroulette and nexting until I found a charming, small penis.

This penis belonged to a self-described "old man" who had "been married a long time" and wanted to know if a) I would get naked for him (to which I replied "no, I'm doing research for my class at college") and b) if I had ever seen my daddy hard (no.) The last four minuted of the conversation were full of long, long pauses, then he would repeat "this feels good," as if he would be masturbating for any other reason.
Chatroulette works because the purpose is to talk to people, strangers, and have streaming reciprocal video. Sexroulette is for propping the pillows up behind you to make the iSight focus on your genitals while still allowing you to view the screen so you can masturbate and, if you're optimistic, watch someone else (female?) pleasure themselves as well. Audio on sexroulette is like tits on a soccer ball -an awkward game ruiner.

I don't like talking to old strangers while they jerk off, and it wasn't particularly empowering to watch a man ejaculate while I clinically scrutinized his pulsing genitals, pausing to look off at my sleeping cat on the carpet and then blinking back to a screen of his bliss and his labored "mmm, look at that."

the end ?

Better Sex Video

Anal Stimulation how-to filmed and edited by the cast/crew of E True Hollywood story special reports. Porn + Science voiceover, yes.

Penis Fencing

Wikipedia

You can't change the word "Nigger" to "Slave"- not even in Huck Finn

Wood Elf Prince selects and purchases Bald White Naked Hairless Man from Large Black Bodybuilder.

Also, "Comforting a Young Warrior," in which monochromatic skin-bags fondle and fornicate a barbarian easily twice their size, noiselessly lamenting as their anuses fissure - and, probably, tittering with joy as they realize that they do not bleed. No, nor ejaculate, nor shed a tear of any fluid. They are but putty-men, the gollums of the 21st century - blind, silent, repetitive and horny. They move like Voldo through my waking nightmares. I'm so, so thankful that someone spent hours toiling to produce this staggering cinematic revolution.

"House of Gord"

Pacific Northwest.

Post-Graduate Plans

There are certain moments in a lifetime when you stumble into a discovery, finding yourself at the mercy of some deus ex machina so lurid and unbelievable that it may feel like you're in a Matrix-world created by Danielle Steele. The results of obsession and research have often resulted in marvelous societal and intellectual advancements and, in most cases, the researchers and thinkers upon whom fall the fruit of these labors experience a certain sense of melancholy. This Weltschmerz is directly motivated by the knowledge of having fulfilled your highest duty to humanity, knowing that your fierce determination (despite numerous setbacks, opposition, and doubt) has humbly offered you your own zenith, has shown you the highest mountain you will ever stand on. From this point on, however, you will never be able to taste air with such a sweet fragrance. You have done the greatest thing you will ever do. Now, while what happened two nights ago to me does not represent obsession or research, it is surely a case of serendipity and fortune that will never be eclipsed, that will never be matched.

Let's flash back to Monday night. I was chatting with an old friend (whom I will refer to as DP) from high school who had sent me a Facebook chat rather unexpectedly. I regret that I was unable to save the conversation, so I will attempt to transcribe a couple of lines purely from memory:

DP: "Hey, do you remember X?"
Me: "Whoaa, what a flashback. Haven't thought about him in years. I'm going to Facebook him right now."

I searched for him. Apparently, the guy lives in Texas now. His profile is laughable, especially the part where, for employment, he seems to have hastily scrawled "own my own business." His duties include, and I assume this is not an inclusive list: "design web cites edit video talent recurter project manger." Seeing as this is not generally CEO-level syntax or spelling, I was quickly intrigued. There are few things more fascinating than failure.

DP goes on to say that he has found something of interest. He asks me my email address. I give it to him. He says the message is sent, and that I need to look at the attached picture as quickly as possible. I refresh my email client 4 or 5 times before the message pops up. I open up, quickly download the attachment, open it in a picture viewer, and ladies and gentlemen, this pops up right before my stunned eyes:

Everyone has seen a picture of this sort from time to time. Well, at least most people who are looking at the Pridesack. The young man with the goatee and the widow's peak is none other than X, one of our high school classmates. Suddenly, the phrase "own my own business" is loaded with allusive power that both of us are too embarrassed to point out. DP had been cruising the internet for gay porn when he came to this site, saw this ad, and saw this. As his boner slowly drained of blood, he thought: "uhhhhhhhhhhhhh, that's X." I believe he momentarily understood what it was like to be heterosexual.

At this point, we are both absolutely stunned. Who, in the fucking vast expanse of a life, is (un?)fortunate enough to learn of a classmate's exploits in gay pornography NOT through word of mouth, but by pure, unadulterated chance? I decided to invest in some investigative effort. It may not be clear, but the "Limited time offer" on that ad extended from Nov. 1st to Nov. 30th, a period of time that seemed to be linked to my classmate's visage. With Google as my sidekick, I searched "Broke Straight Boys" without too much hope, as it was evident that it is a paysite and, well, my investment in gay pornography doesn't run far enough to reach into the wallet. Luckily enough, I was rewarded with the site's blog. Using the archives function, I pared down the entries to those made between Nov. 1st and Nov. 30th. I was rewarded with my classmate's total nudity in the form of .jpegs, awkward entries about his "preparation" for gay sex, and a handful of awkward glances that seem to shout: "this blowjob WILL earn me $1000, but that doesn't mean my distaste for it can't be palpable, right?" I quickly learn that his porn alias is Braden, a nickname so sadly lacking in cleverness that I almost want to apologize to him for absolutely everything, but nothing in particular. Here is a choice article, the first one that I saw. Of particular note is his refusal to bottom; undoubtedly stemming from his phobic aversion that penetrator = masculine, penetrated = feminine. In fact, as you run into posts featuring him (any with the name "Braden"), you will see that his performance is not only uncomfortable, but it is absolutely and sincerely characteristic of the site's intended gestalt: a broke straight boy who, because straight porn doesn't pay enough, has decided that it is better to have sucked dicks and gotten paid than to never have sucked dicks at all.

The sheer amazement of this discovery still blinds me, and for any lapse in form I will blame the ecstatic high it has induced in me. With a website and a name, I was able to return back to Google for more Schadenfreude. The search "Braden Broke Straight Boys" yields VIDEOS. VIDEOS. I will post the first non-pornographic video that I found, the one in which he is given an interview by a brusque cameraman who utters some of the most charming filth I've ever heard. Case:

Cameraman: Do you consider yourself 'gay for pay'?
X: Yes.
Cameraman: Oh okay, that's cool.

The infinity of potential touchstones in this piece is so intimidating that I think I will focus on one detail. Did you happen to catch their small discussion of X's tattoo? It is a Crayola-grade illustration of himself in an angel's embrace. He says that it is "protective." I am compelled to believe that the real world is much stranger than dreams, and that, as he scowls and is too disgusted to finish a blowjob, the undeniably homosexual recipient of this forced fellatio has this tattoo in plain eyesight. I would not be surprised if the painful, fascinating irony of this causes his tattoo to become a strange, impoverished, and Anglo-Saxon iteration of stigmata, bleeding a blood infused with the saline of tears.

In middle school, he was offered $20 dollars to lick another lacrosse player's balls. He did it, got caught, and was forced to give back the money. It is strangely satisfying to think that, as his tongue draped over the other guy's barely post-prepubescent scrotum, his mind washed over with the thought: "hey, I could make a living out of this." The most I can hope now is that he gets to keep the money.

Japan, again

How is reverse-birth possibly a fetish?

FOUND IT

Finding this was excessively pleasing. Double amputee/possible hemiparetic porn, with a beautiful Laotian boygirl on top. You're welcome.

Stupid

Stupid but fetish related. Octomom in faux-fetish vid - WTF/why?

Attack of the Giant Pervs

Ugh. This is how I feel about The Sims.

YOU ALL KNOW THIS KID

For serious. This kid= 1/10 kids.