If Christian erotica can be a thing, so can Christian pornography.
And why limit it to Christians? The MAGA market are also a bunch of dupes…er, uhhhh…I mean EXCELLENT customers, why not branch into the right-wing crowd? Think about it…anti-woke pornography where we “own the libs” (I.e. by fucking the shit out of them)
If any “alcoholic” tells you that it is easier to quit alcohol than to quit nicotine then you know that they aren’t a real alcoholic.
Quitting nicotine has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Sure, I got pissed off a lot. I cried a few times. Hell, some days I’d even stare into the void and ponder ways to kill myself. But I overcame it.
And through these trials and tribulations, I’ve come to realize something: this blog is a pain in my ass.
As usual, I keep coming across the same old solution: I need to stop doing so much.
Is life a race?
You’re damn right it is. I want to get all this living over with. But why make life more painful than it needs to be?
That’s another thing that pisses me off…why does it take so much for people to be happy? You’re breathing right? You can pay the bills, correct? You have access to internet pornography? What fucking more do you need?
“But I gotta feed my kids 😭,” you say
“I gotta have insulin for my Type II diabetes 😭.”
Don’t worry about it. You know why? Cuz God provides.
“God will provide for my crippling gambling debts 😀?”
He sure will.
Of course I don’t need God. I’m much too powerful for that bullshit. But you do.
It takes real strength to admit weakness. At least keep telling yourself that. As for me, I have no weaknesses.
But the point is you gotta recognize your own weaknesses before you can start making improvements. And I’ve realized that my so called “weakness” is trying to take on too much responsibility.
So actually, I don’t have a problem at all. I’m just a too damn good of a person.
So say ‘no’ to paying your bills and staying healthy, and ‘yes’ to more drugs and internet pornography.
I’m just doing what my therapist told me to do 🤷♂️
What was I doing watching such classics as The Deer Hunter, Taxi Driver, Paris Texas, and Caligula before the age 13?
In fact, I was right about to turn 13 when I watched Caligula for the first time. It was a long, boring summer. I was dragging ass on mowing the yard. My dog puked on the tile floor. And instead of taking care of both of those problems, for whatever reasons we had a rented copy of Caligula so I popped it in the DVD player.
I remember the moment better than I remember 9/11.
Next thing I know, Malcolm McDowell was fucking his sister, penises were everywhere, and there was blood. So, so much blood (with a few blowjobs to boot).
I just didn’t see it coming.
Hardcore porn and bloody movies weren’t anything new to me. But when they got mixed together, you go from being aroused to utterly horrified in one frame. It’s too much for a young mind to take in.
I was so traumatized by the experience, I couldn’t watch it again until I was 20.
But now I’m happy that it’s being recognized as a truly awful classic, and a marquee role for Malcolm McDowell and a disgustingly hott Helen Mirren. It’s been therapeutic for me to say the least.
“I’m Dillon J Dudenburg. I’ve directed softcore porn. I’ve directed hardcore porn. I’ve also directed episodes of Dharma and Greg. I’ve studied under David A. Pryor, Andy Sidaris, and Godfrey Ho. I’m ready for the Big Screen. However I have some concerns with the script.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“I think we need to make the lead a heterosexual. I don’t think the Chinese market is ready for that sort of thing. But we can keep in all the gay sex,” Dillon replied.
“So the main character is straight, he just has sex with men?”
“I think that’s an excellent idea Dillon,” Kat interjected. “James, you need to prepare a fourth draft.”
“Very well,” I replied. I called over my production assistant, Pee-Wee.
“Pee-Wee, take note: make the main character less gay.”
“I think this has been a very productive meeting,” Kat said. “Dillon, thank you for your input. We’ll be reaching out to you shortly.”
We shook hands and Dillon exited the room.
“What do you think?” Kat asked.
“I enjoyed Take Me To Pound Town IX as much as the next guy. But he’s an asshole. I don’t think he understands my work at all,” I replied.
“Come on, James. Making films is a collaborative effort. Dillon has style, a creative flair. He is the best director for the job.”
“Or the best one we can afford,” I said.
Kat walked away when Pablo, my agent, called.
“Great news!” he said. “Kat and I have finalized your contract.”
“Oh wonderful! What did you get?”
“Well, now hear me out…”
“Pablo, what did you do?”
“Your contract is 15….“
“….hundred dollars. Which, of course, 45% of that goes to commission.”
“Pablo, you shit the bed on this one.”
“BUT BUT BUT you get sole screenwriting credit and 100% of the merchandising rights!”
“Pablo, the script is no longer an action romp in outer space! It’s now a melodrama in 1942 Stalingrad! What merchandising rights could there be?!”
I hung up the phone and looked for Kathrine. She was back in her office. So I climbed up the fireman pole and stormed in.
“So what am I? Your slave?!” I asked.
“First rule of Hollywood: you’re only as good as your agent,” she replied.
“The only way I can profit off this film is if we sell Nazi SS action figures! You think you can push me around? Well you got another thing coming sister!”
I slid back down the pole and found Pee-Wee.
“Pee-Wee,” I said. “When do the sets go up?”
“Uhh, Tuesday I think.”
“Load up on crank and call Dillon. We’ve got work to do.”