Thank god for internet porn, because adult video stores are the devil..

Even though I have thought about my wedding day for as long as I can remember, I'm not sure I'm willing to sacrifice my lifestyle just for a lifetime of silly wedded bliss and happiness. No, I'm not concerned that I'd have to give up getting shitfaced drunk with my friends, nights which usually end up with me either fighting someone, throwing up in the middle of a "Denny's" somewhere, or taking a shit on a ex girlfriends lawn. Even though having sex with women that normal men wouldn't have their cocks within a 10 mile radius of is one of my favorite endeavors, I don't see marriage as being a total negative because being married in that instance could in fact save my life. What I don't want to give up, I'm ashamed to say, is my massive porn collection. A few of you thought I was bullshitting when I said that I keep them in a huge cabinet, rows and rows of the filthiest smut as far as the human eye can see, to the point that you become completely overwhelmed by the sounds of angels when the doors finally swing completely open. Some sections I have alphabetized, I have sections that are broken up based on the races of the starlets, there is a section that I've dedicated to midgets for christs sake, also I have sections broken up based on what orifice was the one primarily being penetrated. Shit, that's not even counting the spindles amongst spindles of Internet porn that I've burned to DVD form.

Looking at all the spank material that I've gotten from the variety of Internet smut sites over the past couple of years, everything from chicks needing to oil themselves up like actresses in the movie "Belly" before they are triple penetrated to porn that makes me feel slightly uncomfortable like actresses posing as Muslims getting fucked under their hijab, it reminded me how I should be fortunate and thank the heavenly creator that I don't have to peruse any more adult video stores. Here are a few reasons why..

My germaphobia was a problem: People can't fully grasp the inner conflict that I feel being a pervert who happens to be the biggest germaphobe known to man. I'm the type of guy who has no problem having sexual relations with a woman with loose morals and low self esteem, but afterwords I feel that I've placed my penis inside what is the human equivalent to that "Outbreak" monkey and find myself angrily scrubbing my cock in the shower with an S.O.S pad. Being a germaphobe of that magnitude caused problems when renting porn as well, handling the videos in the store with rubber gloves, taking them back to my house where I removed said gloves and washed my hands in scolding hot water, pick up the video in which I planned to watch with a pair of charcoal tongs and try to maneuver the DVD inside my DVD player, and after I've masturbated like my testicles had an expiration date on them I put a new pair of rubber gloves on and placed the videos outside on the porch like some muddy fucking sneakers.

Customers who didn't adhere to the 45 foot rule: I can't tell you how many friendships I've ended when someone, even if innocently, either put in a porn tape in my presence or suggested the watching of a porn tape. Listen I have love for gay people, not in that "you had all the fun but aren't going to give me a complimentary reach around" sort of way, and I'm not going to go around saying everything is "gay", but watching pornography with another dude is a cardinal sin right up there with murder, coveting your neighbors wife, and tongue kissing a chick after she blows you. That being said, when you are in an adult video store most men respect the 45 foot rule, they don't get within that distance of you out of respect, possible homophobia, and maybe guilt that being with an actual woman wasn't an option that particular day. Whenever some miserable bastard abused that rule, infiltrated my personal space, and either looked at another video right beside me or asked me a question about a movie, I'd yell to the top of my lungs "Get the fuck away from me!! Get...the...fuck...away...from...me!!! The irony isn't lost in the fact that you are about to get your ass handed to you in the "anal section" of all places!!


Embarrassing late bills: For christs sake don't have late fees, especially if you live with someone who might frown on your tastes in erotica. No lie, when I had a live-in girlfriend I came home to her looking at some of the titles on a late fee notice. Initially she seemed cool about it and chalked it up to me being a typical man, but whenever we would have intimacy issues she would throw it back in my face by saying "I guess I don't do it like those "Butt-fucking Brazilians" huh?? I'm just just a mere mortal with a gag reflex, maybe you should find you one of those who starred in "Attack of the throat Yogurt!!"


Lady, wait until I'm gone to re-stock movies: It is my belief that the women who work at these adult stores revel in the fact that so many men have to rely on video penetration for sexual release. I'm sure they go home yapping to each other about the sexual deviants that frequent the store, the nerds of Urkel-like proportion that they see every day, and how extremely sticky the videos that they get back are. When a woman used to go back in the adult section to restock returned movies, I could tell that she got a kick out of it based on every man within eye-shot who acted like they were checking their watches, fumbling with keys, or any other action that deflected from the fact that they felt like a steaming pile of shit.

Judgmental cashiers: Right after you place that mound of filth in front of the cashier and she begins to scan your choices, you tend to attempt to read her face the same way you would do an opponent in a Texas Hold-em game. The best cashiers, to continue the gambling analogy, have the ultimate poker face and ring up your choices without incident, god bless those fine ladies. But most of them are completely out of line, like that black cashier who gently shook her head when she saw that one of my choices was "Little White Vegans who Crave Black Meat", or the one cashier who went beyond the call of duty to remind me that I had checked a certain title out 4 times already which prompted me to yell, "Maybe I like it, you ever thought about that!!! Ring my shit up, serve your fucking purpose, and stop reminding me how much I love thick Asians!"