Pr0ngiving Originally Untitled 

Reprinted from Chickenlegs - 11/28/02

What am I thankful for? Well, I'm damn glad you asked.

Most of you are too young to remember the time before the Interweb and so you take it for granted. Let me describe a typical pre-Interweb day to you:

It is about three in the afternoon and it is time to find some porn. "Johnny" (name changed to protect my anonymity) realizes his whole family is still home, so he won't be able to sneak into Dad's closet to the secret stash of Playboys. As a matter of fact, there are good odds that that is where Dad is right now.

So, borrowing mom's car, "Jimmy" (this is a better name for him) drives to the local magazine store where kindly old Mr. Jacobs works. There they are behind the counter, the porn magazines, displayed like treasures in some X-Rated Indiana Jones movie. They have names like "Swank," "Double D Cups," "Barely Legal Teens," and, of course, "Ass Lovers," though the "o" in "Lovers" has been replaced by something that may be a heart or a little ass. From this distance, it is impossible to tell.

Now, in order to get this treasure, "Ace" (if I am going to be making up a name anyways, it might as well be a cool one) needs to walk up to kindly old Mr. Jacobs and say, "Good day, Mr. Jacobs. Could I have a couple of 'Ass Lovers.'" The old codger has a weak heart and, even though he stocks the magazines, there is the fear that this might give him a heart attack. Of course, he is buddies with "Ace's" mom, too, and he may very well call her up and say, "Hey, Joey is buying 'Ass Lovers.' I mean 'Ace.'"

After nervously walking around the store, "Akira" (Ace is a lame name) chickens out and just buys a copy of Billboard magazine. Wimp!

There is only one other option, now, and that is for "Max" (Akira makes me sound like an anime character) to drive around some of the backroads and look for porn that people threw away. This happens more often than you would think, and it wasn't unusual to see six or seven desperate adolescents wandering through the brush at the side of the road back in Max's hometown. If they were lucky, they would find a half-rotted copy of Hustler, its pages stuck together with dew (one hopes). No such luck for "Max," though, so he is sent back home, lonely, horny and with feet wet from tramping through the brush.

And that was what it was like for teenagers looking for porn back in the day.

Thanks to the Interweb, you can find porn anywhere at any time. And, heck, on this special day, that is what I am thankful for.

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