You know what else I don't understand? Porn!

Not all porn, mind you... I can understand becoming physically engaged and/or stimulated at the images of people doing filth on your television/computer/phone screen.
More specifically, porn that attempts (or attempted) to drag you into believing a hastily-written and overly anticlimactic story made even moreso when one has to suspend disbelief in that it is NEVER as easy to get laid as it is in those shittily written "stories."

The daily email conversation with The Katie birthed this one.
We HAD been talking about what I will cook tonight, then on to random shit and I delved off into one of my silly little personas where I speak in my own fucked the fuck up version of Ye Olde English, where random words are made to end in '-eth' and make demands for a feast of various meats [pause...] and cheeses...

K: Did you know that there's a porno named 'Nailin' Palin'?

P: Yes, I declined to download it a while back, lol.
Thought about it though.

K: I just found out and read part of the script... Uber cheesy

P: So I was doing right to have ignored it? Cool!

P: Just get to the fuckin' part!!!

K: Lol get to the sexin' already! Dayum!

P: EXACTLY!!!

K: Thank God I can talk about things like this with you.

P: It's true.
If I wanted to watch porn for cinematography and storytelling, I would watch a movie that was not promising me graphic sexual depictions.
Even though I was duped into a couple with plots and shit.

K: Lmao. Sorry when I watched it would be on fast forward till the juicy part came around.

P: That is why I loved the advent of DVD pr0ns, I am pretty sure mama didn't know of the monster she would create when they bought me that DVD player back in 98-99.
With the internet, it was officially ON.

K: Lmao!! I used to take my brothers and have to fast forward or rewind to where it was at when I took it.

P: You know this is getting excerpted for the blog, right?

[Phlip note - perves of a feather apparently live together]

K: No I didn't but okay!

P: Good, good thing you're such a sport about this.

And that is about how these things start.
We begin on something that actually has a topic, one of us makes a joke, the other bites on it and we find ourselves WAAAAY out in left field on a conversation we'd not booked a trip or bought a ticket for.
Anyway, life with The Katie, her mean-ass dog and I are not the point of this blog. Pr0ns that refuses to just get to the point is the point today.
In my collection of materials, I have/had movies...

• Set in the "future" (2009 - HA!!!) where some defect caused all men in the future to have gone impotent, so a woman had to go back to 1996 and recruit 2 young studs to come to the future and fuck all the women to save the world from extinction.
  On the way, in the time/space continuum, she decides that because she had not had dick in so long, that she would fuck the both of them on the way.
  Once comfortably IN the future, they go about and make sex with various women, including the female President of the United States, one more time with the chick sent to get them and some other chick whose place in the story I cannot place now 11 years later... I hope you remembered the part about Demolition Woman (yes, Google that) having fucked them during the time space continuum (which consisted of nothing more than cheesy whooshing sounds atop a t-tops Corvette in someone's garage with black paper hung all over the place) it through shit out of whack. The last chick was apparently MARRIED and walked in on one of the guys mashing out his wife and the time/space fuckup had apparently fixed the impotence problem, then HE fucked his wife.

I wish I could make this shit up.

• Where some guy, playing a newspaper delivery guy (in the mid afternoon? I thought papers had to be delivered before sunup!), goes on his route to collect and happens upon a group of ladies lezzing out over wine in their pool cabana.
  [Phlip note - how come this shit never happened to ME when I was single?]
  As it were, none of these ladies were able to unass the dough necessary to pay for the newspapers they've been reading, so they invite him in to join the party and he fucks every one of the women -- 6 or 7 of them -- most twice or more, sometimes even in the ass!
  As a weak attempt to continue the implausible ruse, he mumbles some unintelligible shit about needing to collect his money and get back to working his route, while they continue to fuck the life out of him and call him in the least-sexily possible presented manner "miiiister paaaperboooooooy..."

I REALLY wish I could make this shit up.

• A professional tennis player, played by Sierra's titties dies while "working out" and gets to heaven to realize, as told by some fat bald guy at the gates that they'd made a mistake by letting her pass, that her twin sister was supposed to die instead. Now, because they had already processed her body and were preparing a funeral, they would not be able to just send her back to earth. As a compromise, they would have to find a suitable body for her to assume as they themselves were about to shake loose the mortal coil.
  They settle on a fashion tycooness whose husband is needing to kill her to take over the fortunes of the family business. They gas her room while she is sleeping and he is fucking his mistress in what is SUPPOSED to be an off-site office, but is ACTUALLY in the next fucking room (?!!?). Maid "finds" her supposedly dead, but the originally dead chick has assumed her body, with recollection of everything and all that goodness and goes in on her husband (in the next room, mind you), who has magically seen the error in his ways and is newly in love with his wife and proves it by inserting and withdrawing himself into and from her until at least he reached that point.
  Meanwhile, back at the ranch; the deceased tennis player's twin sister (who looks nothing like her, mind you) is being consoled by her sister's boyfriend. And by "consoled," I mean "fucked." With all resolved, the big fat angel dude and his heavy-chested assistant (who we never got to see naked) look in and call the situation "closed" and we're done.

You know what? I COULD make this shit up, but I'm not.

• A female singer, played by Diana Devoe, is getting close to a major deal which will send her on a major tour and yaddayaddayadda. Her managers/handlers have informed her that she will be away from her significant other for a while over the course of this and will need to have him keep his distance so as to maintain her attraction as a single lady or some shit like that.
  [Phlip note - don't quote me on that, strange things happen to my memory when I am waiting on smut to take place]
  Anyway... Her boyfriend takes this as some shit that SHE cooked up so she could get out on the road and bust it loose, so to speak, and was not happy with this, and begins stalking the studio where my old-school pornocrush, Kitten, works and is apparently trying to break them up, so after fucking some studio worker, she goes out of her way to make it look like Diana Devoe's character is fucking Byron Long's character when all they were actually doing was changing for a photo shoot.
  Byron Long's character goes off and fucks Vanessa Blue's while Diana Devoe and her boyfriend argue, then have makeup sex as a concession that she is not going out on the road to fuck around on him.

No, I would never own up to being able to write THAT convoluted shit.


Thinking back to try to remember those "movies" was painful, and I still own the last two described, though they're not in my possession currently. The common bond, as previously mentioned, is that the pomp & circumstance is completely not needed.
Seriously? After ATTEMPTING to watch once, every other time watched consisted of fast forwarding to the good parts, not stopping to attempt internalizing some terribly written, atrociously directed and comically cheaply filmed presentation.
The better question, though, is "why?"
Why on EARTH would these pornographers decide in their heart of hearts that we as perverts WANTED a damned story, as opposed to just cutting the shit and making right on with the fuckin'?
[Phlip note - there is a large amount of the word 'fuck' in this post, because no one was making love, there is a difference people!]
There again, I guess the collective shift in what works speaks to the direction of things, though... People apparently stopped buying the shit -- I know I did -- when they discovered online "reality" pr0ns (BangBros, Reality Kings, Mofos, etc...) and could somehow relate better to the plight of meeting a chick on the streets, taking her home with her understanding to possibly be making some cash off of it and having our way with her and excusing her to find her own way home, unpaid of course. Suspension of disbelief begins at the onset of plausibility.
Then apparently, our favorite "stars" realized that this was where the money was, as opposed to pretending to be actors and actresses. Not that I ever paid for any of that shit, not with my Google skillset.

Funny how these things work, no?

Let the record show that I have not actually WATCHED any of this shit in over a year now, lol.