So here I am. It's Sunday afternoon, the sun is shining, it's an unnaturally warm day for November in New York. My girlfriend just spent the night and we had a long, languorous brunch and tea, and now I'm back home. I know what I SHOULD do. I SHOULD pop in one of the porno DVDs I got in the mail this week and start watching it. I feel like that would be a lovely, indulgent afternoon for most people. Watching some porn, masturbating, drinking tea, masturbating some more... Really a perfect, lovely, rarely beautiful day.
But... God. I've watched more porn in the past few months, written more about porn, thought more about porn... I'm just porned out. I could probably watch a really great fuck flick right now, complete with actual female orgasms, a plotline that makes a semblance of sense, beautiful lighting, and hot male performers, and still be left cold. I just do not want any porn today.
But you know what? It's my JOB. To watch it and review it and think about it and write about it and so... dear reader... for thee... I shall.
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