Dear besties,
Somewhere deep inside of me, where my conscience and sense of right and wrong used to reside, I’m feeling a hint of reservation about writing this post. I wonder if you’ll look at me differently when I you learn how I’ve been spending my free time. All those nights I said I couldn’t hang out and do awesome things because I was “cleaning my apartment” or “crocheting a blanket,” I was actually doing something very different. Something perhaps unseemly, or even career-ending. (Future employers take note- times are tough and I’m just trying to keep myself out of the breadline.) I have been reviewing pornographic material.
Now before you jump to conclusions, like that “reviewing pornographic material” actually means sitting in a dark apartment getting my jollies off, please allow me to explain how I came to be a porn reviewer. A friend who shall remain nameless has a cousin who works for a trade publication for the porn industry. This cousin needed said friend to help review some high-speed vibrators, tingly lube, edible underwear and the like. My friend agreed, not fully understanding just how long it takes to get the gist of a product and then write about it in 225 pithy words.
That’s when she called me in to pinch hit. She had a few porn videos (all girl on girl made by girls who like girls) that she didn’t have the time, or more likely inclination, to watch. She asked if I’d be game for the challenge. She figured a heavy hitter like me could crank those babies out like small children crank out Gap chinos in Bangladesh. Since I probably owe this friend a breadbasket of favors, I agreed. How hard could it be, I thought. I’m a semi-professional writer who knows the difference between their and there, number and amount, so I’m pretty sure I could blow the roof off this mother.
Oh, how wrong I was. My friend gave me my first assignments- “Writers and Rockstars” featuring the insufferable cooing Madison Young, and “Champion” featuring Syd Blakovich, aka Shawn, aka the woman I least want to meet in a dark alley or in a boxing ring. Now, I’ve watched my share of porn. In college I had a female friend who lived with three boys. They had more pornos at their house than they did textbooks. But I’m not sure that could have prepared me for the task of viewing these “films” with a critical eye.
But before I could begin the process, I had to pick my nom de plume. Nobody in this biz uses his/her real name, and neither would I. I don’t want to damage my already in the toilet reputation by attaching my name to the adult film industry (then what exactly am I doing writing about it now, you ask. Good question. I got nothin’.) So I decided on a subtle, yet representative name- Lusty O’Bangin. It has sort of a nasty Irish lass thing about it.
Now that I’ve got the name, I needed to start watching these bad boys (or bad girls, rather). It’s not as much fun as you think. First of all, you have to take notes with the hand that’s not down your pants. I kid. None of these movies were the least bit appealing to me because I’m dead down there. But really, you have to take notes. I jotted down all the stupid dialogue and the dumb noises and the fact that Madison Young kept her glasses on during her big scenes (note to Madison- nobody with glasses keeps them on during the sex. And if they do, it’s probably because they’re legally blind, or they have a librarian fetish).
Here’s another tough thing about reviewing porn. What are you judging it on? The actors’ theatrical chops? Their acrobatic techniques? The lighting? I was at a loss. So I just wrote about them based on what I truly thought of the flicks. And what I thought is that they were ridiculous. I mean, nobody has the sex for that long without needing a drink of water or a bathroom break. And nobody likes to have their inner thigh punched for an hour by a semi-professional mixed martial artist, I don’t care what kind of kinky junk you’re into.
I’m not sure I succeeded with the reviews. I’ll let you be the judge of that. Here are some snippets:
“Champion”- In Shine Louise Houston’s newest film, Blakovich plays a mixed martial artist trying to make it pro. A couple of things stand in her character Jessie’s way, namely her colossal libido, which causes her to have sex with three or four girls in what appears to be the span of six and a half minutes.
“Writers and Rockstars”- Madison, a true redhead with hardly a drop of melanin in her skin, is dermagraphic, which could be a turn-on for some. Her skin turns an angry red at the slightest touch, so Daniel’s chocking and whipping produces great blooms of scarlet all over her body.
After handing those in, I was given two more DVDs to review- “Crash Pad Series Volume 2: Unlocked” and “Lesbian Life: Real Sex San Francisco.” Racing to make a deadline, I watched both movies in one night. Such a bad idea. The reviews were not nearly as snarktastic as they could have been and I’m pretty disappointed in my finished product. Lusty O’Bangin could have done better.
So alas, I feel that my career as a porn reviewer as come to an end as quickly as it began. But that’s ok because newspapers are doing really well now, so my job writing about cats stuck in trees is probably pretty secure.
