Saturday, July 30, 2011

Porn Tales 8


I had a manager at the porn shop that I couldn’t stand. Let’s call him Rick. Now Rick was a worry wart. You know, one of those people that act frantic in every situation and every little thing that happens is the biggest emergency to ever happen in the store. I hate frantic but even more than that I hate frantic with no action. If you’re gonna act like that then at least move! (sigh) Okay.

This dude was always ashy. Like always. I swear I heard him wash his hands in the bathroom and come out with them dryer than a turtles knuckles. Ash bothers me especially when it can be seen from a distance. Let me give you a few examples of this guy just to give you a taste of why I hated working with this guy so much I volunteered to do a split shift of like 9am to 1pm and coming back in the evening to work 8pm to midnight.

In the 7 years I worked at the porn shop I missed only three days of work. That’s gotta be some kinda record. One day my foot was so swollen that I couldn’t put my shoe on. I called a few hours before my shift to let him know that I couldn’t come in.

Friday, July 29, 2011

Ass Glass


Glass Dildos. That’s right, I said it. Those exist. Some of you are probably like “Yeah, and?” Well, these shouldn’t exist. They scare me. Not being, you know, attacked by one or anything. I don’t beef with anyone like that. But I remember when the porn shop first got these things and I knew they wouldn’t sell. I don’t care how pretty they look or how good the salesmen were that sold this crap I knew they would sit in the display collecting dust. Did you know you cant even buy dildos in the South? For reals.

Wikipedia describes these as “…glass dildos have similar features to steel ones. In most of the cases, glass toys are solid, and made of Pyrex or other types borosilicate glass although this may vary, depending on the manufacturer. Like steel, glass toys may be used to apply firmer pressure than silicone can to a female's G-spot or male's prostate gland. Unlike other types of toys, glass sex toys can also be personalized with inscriptions.

Inscription? What the hell are you gonna put on it? “Mine!”? For those of you that know, the idea of glass in the booty is a terrible idea. I made a video watching me watching a guy with a jar that breaks in his ass (click all up in here to see me scream). The crazy thing about this is that you can heat or cool it. That’s right. I said heat or cool. Now, why in the blue hell would you want hot glass in your booty?!

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Porn Tales 7


There was this nasty ass old man that used to come into the porn shop. He had been coming for years and ended up getting the name Overring from the employees. An over ring was a button pressed on the cash register that would cancel a sell when someone changed their mind on an item or in the case of Overring, when someone didn’t have enough cash.

Overring, for those of you that need a visual, looked like an overweight runaway slave. Yeah, I know that doesn’t make any sense. He always had this look on his face like any second a slave master was going to show up and whip his ass or something. When I tried to describe his scent on The Adam Carolla Show the only way I could do it was by saying “He smelled like a combination of a stuffy, hot kitchen where they cooked nothing but greasy food and armpit.” Seriously, he smelled really bad.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Crack Is Wack


Nothing like dealing with people that look like Judge Doom at 6am. There were a lot of items sold at the porn shop that I hated selling. From magazines where people dressed up like ponies and led each other around to poppers. But there was one item in particular I hated selling because I knew they would sell. I know that sounds weird but when the item was a glass pipe then it makes perfect sense.

Wikipedia describes it as “…a pipe made from a small glass tube, often taken from ‘Love roses’, small glass tubes with a paper rose that are promoted as romantic gifts. These are sometimes called stems, horns, blasters and straight shooters.

We’d get these damned things delivered and they would sell out quickly. Now the problem with selling crack pipes is that people who smoke crack will buy them! And watching these people amble into the store that early in the morning was never fun. And you should have seen the look on people’s faces when we were sold out.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Spank Rags


As you all know porn shops sell porn magazines. Lots of porn magazines. We all know most of the basic straight ones like Playboy, Hustler, and Penthouse. The gay magazines have far more choices and break them down by height, hair, and size. Size of what? Take one damn guess. There was Mandate, Inches, Black Inches, Latin Inches, Jock, Freshmen, Men, Instinct, and Blueboy.

Lots of straight dudes would pose in these. They would even pose in magazines made for women (ha!) like Playgirl that I never in my damn life ever sold to a woman. People would come in for these magazines on delivery day. Some were more obsessive than others. There was this one dude in particular that would literally race into the store after calling. Yes, he would call to see if a magazine arrived. Here are two scenarios.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

In And Out All Day

There was this dude that used to come to the porn shop all the damn time. He was a tall fair skinned Black dude with green eyes that looked high all the time. We never found out his name but we started calling him Boomerang. He got the name because he would come in and out the store all damned day. When I say all day I mean all day. From 8am until after I left work he would come in and out. Not once did he buy anything. He would just come in, check out other guys, and leave.

For a few minutes.

One day we got sick of his shit so we put a sign on the door that said “No In’s and Out’s.” We waited for him to arrive and he stopped right in front of the door, looked at the sign, and stood there thinking. He reached for the handle, licked his lips, and walked away. Everyone at the counter started laughing! Now he had to pick and choose when he would come in the store.

The day of Boomerang ended one day when he was spotted by someone who recognized him. He didn’t recognize him for any good reason. Boomerang had robbed him! The guy looks at Boomerang and Boomerang looks at him and bolts! He ran to the counter and asked me to call the cops.

Him:  “Can you call the police?”


Me: “Is it because of him (Boomerang)?”


Him: “Yeah! He stole my wallet!”

I called the cops and they arrived searching for him. We all went to the back window to watch the free show. Now, I like to think that if the cops were chasing me I would pick one direction and stick with it. But not Boomerang! He literally ran in circles around the block. He hopped fences faster than anyone I have ever seen in my life. He put Kenyans to shame!

He ended up getting cornered when my co-worker shouted to the cops in between puffing away on his cigarette “He’s over here!” The cops snatched his monkey ass u and he was gone for about a year until he reemerged thinner and more shameful looking. I haven’t seen him around the area in a while and can only imagine what he is up to. I heard him talking to a co-worker once about his kids. Yeah. Boomerang has kids!

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Porn Tales 6


I worked with a cross dresser who will shall refer to as Shante. Once again me not seeing someone come in for an interview bit me in the ass. A large Black man dressed as a woman came in one morning to start training at the porn shop. I have no issues with cross dressers. I see them all the time and as long as they do it well its very whatever. Shante went overboard.

Daily.

So he…her…hmm. Shante comes in and its like a perfume bomb went off. I have a sensitive nose and this was like some form of torture. She…he…damn it. He, okay?! He had an assload of foundation on his face in an effort to cover up his stubble and a wig that was kept very well. I mean he really went the whole way. Even the voice.

The voice took the longest to get used to. He put on a voice like a Southern bell. He added the finger snapping and long nails and all that. Everyone liked Shante and he seemed to make customers flock to him. There was this one weird ass guy he knew that would come in every night and drive him home. Little Asian fella that would never say hello or anything and just stare at us at the counter until Shante arrived. I would just stare at him back until he looked at the chip rack. Everything was fine until one day some money came up missing.

Friday, July 15, 2011

Booty Juice

There are lots of ways to get wet. You can leave the house without an umbrella. Run through some sprinklers on a hot summer day. Or head to your local sex shop and buy some lube! There are lots of lubes for different things. Astro Glide, Wet, Eros, KY Jelly, and of course Boy Butter, which you see there. I swear when I first saw this at the porn shop I thought it was a joke. It even looks like butter which for some reason makes it seem even worse.

“I cant believe its not butter!”


“You will once you taste it!”

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Porn Slanger Part 1

Yeah, that’s me from a while back. Maybe around 2005 or so in the porn shop acting a damn fool. I bet when you read these tales of horror you ask yourself “Self, how can I avoid suffering the same fate as you and spending 7 years slanging porn to various dregs of society?” Well, let me tell you. Get comfy ‘cause this is kinda long.

That’s what I wish she said.

Before I started working there I was working at Petco (“Where pets go!”) and reading scripts. Both of them were part time jobs and I needed some scratch! My ex at the time had a cousin that had worked there for years and said that they needed someone to work weekend mornings because no one wanted to do it. I was like, sure. I had only been in the porn shop once before then to see if they had wrestling magazines. They did but not the kind I wanted…

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Trannyformers

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Porn Tales 5

There was this asshole I worked with at the porn shop. We’ll leave his name out of this in case one day he tweaks his way to this blog and drips makeup all over it. He had worked there well before I did and I couldn’t stand him. He would skate into work sweating his foundation off his face. I mean literally dripping off his face. He talked very wispy and was always fanning himself whether it was hot or cold. Know why?

He was on drugs!

There are two things that led to his magical downfall. One day I baked some cookies for everyone. Yes, I bake cookies and I bake them very well. I made some which would have fed about ten people. I come in the next day to get my Tupperware and ask a co-worker how the cookies were. She tells me this.

Her: “I didn’t get any.”


Me: “Huh?”


Her: “I didn’t get to try them.”


Me: “How is that even possible? There was a bunch.”


Her: “I think (tweaker) took them.”

Now this pissed me off because I hated the dude already and the fact that he took all them damned cookies was just fucking ridiculous. I found my Tupperware with one giant store bought cookie stuffed in there as replacement for the fact that in his drug fueled mind state he thought this was okay. I would have preferred an empty container. I had to have a conversation with my manager so I would not have to lay hands on this son of a bitch because seriously I would have grabbed him and shook the shit out of him.

The last straw happened when I wasn’t even at work. At his point I was working a split shift because I couldn’t stand working with a supervisor during the nights. So in between I went to the thrift store and found a TV for $25 and was walking past the back window when my manager stopped me.

Him:  “Wanna come to work early?”


Me: “No. Why?”


Him: “We had to fire (tweaker).”


Me: “Yay. I’ll be right back.”

Turns out he had fallen asleep while ringing up a customer up. Like for reals fell asleep standing up while scanning a porno for someone to rent. He got fired and came by to visit like a year later. I ignored the shit out of him. He said hello, I just looked at him and finished eating my Snicker bar.

Don’t do drugs, kids.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Porn Tales 4

Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it…

I use that quote from American Beauty because it was what I thought of  when this guy I worked with started crying for no damned reason. One day this guy started and I knew immediately that he wouldn’t last long. He was attractive, stupid, and a huge flirt. It took him a minute to realize I was drooling over a cover of Gear with Jessica Biel on the cover before he stopped flirting with me.

He would spend his lunch breaks doing push ups and pull ups near the back window to attract customers to come look at him. His mood was so back and forth. He would go from bionic horndog to silently moping around the store. I wanted him to pick a mood and stick with it. We were there to sell porn, damn it!

One day he just burst into tears. I don’t mean like weeping quietly while people walked past. No. He fucking full on family member died and he could’ve prevented it cried in the back room. You know, that awesome back room where all the action is? I hate watching dudes cry. I’ll admit, I am an ugly crier. So I stopped. But this dude was losing his mind so I did what any normal person in my position would do.

I sighed heavily.

He looked at me with tears streaming down his face. I cocked my eyebrow. He realized that he was dealing with a straight man with the emotional capacity of a Terminator and rolled his eyes and went back to work. He acted like nothing ever happened, even the next day. About two weeks later he was gone. I discussed this with a co-worker.

Me: “What happened to American Beauty?”


Him: “Who?”


Me: “American Beauty. Dude who cried for no reason.”


Him: (laughter)


Me: “Sometimes there’s so many push ups in the world…and I…” (pretends to weep) “…I feel like my hearts gonna explode!”


Him: “I think he quit.”


Me: “How come people don’t get fired for being fucking weirdoes?”


Him: “Because you wouldn’t have a job.”


Me: “Swallow me.”


Him: “Ooh, daddy!”


Me: “I don’t like you.”

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Stump

Before you read this know that this is about a very messed up porno. I have seen some honked up stuff, but this takes the cake. Stop reading now if you are eating.

One day a tape arrived. A tape unlike any other porno tape ever seen by human eyes. I didn’t think a tape like this would exist. I mean, I know people do some pretty jacked up stuff, but this tape right here? This tape right here?! This tape is wrong for far too many reasons. The name of the tape.

Stump.

Now what do you think this porno featured? It wasn’t about people banging in the forest. It also was not about people getting sexy while not being able to answer questions. It was about people being fucked by a stumped leg! The “If the cover is bad don’t look at the back” rule applies 100% to this movie.

When I first saw it listed on the invoice I thought it was a joke. Sadly, I had been exposed to so much wrong that the first thing I gathered was “Amputee porn?” Yes, I was that corrupted. It was also pretty expensive. Most gay porn went for an average of $49.95. So I pick up the box to make a rental of it and looked at the cover. I looked at my co-worker and shook my head.

Me: “This cant be.”


Him: “But it is!”


Me: “This is fucking terrible.”


Him: “Don’t turn it over.”


Me: “But I have to…”


Him: “You shouldn’t.”


Me: “I know. But I will.”


Him: “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”


Me: “Uh-huh.” (flips over cover and drops tape) “Why didn’t you tell me not to turn it over?!”


Him: “What?!”

You haven’t experienced fear and horror until you see a thigh in someone’s ass. This wasn’t someone sticking a cut off arm in an ass. It was a leg. A giant human leg! When people would bring it to the counter I would just sigh a little bit and ring it up. Some people wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. Some would proudly slap it on the counter like “Don’t judge me.” Oh, but judge I did. Its like finding out that your friend is a huge fan of Ke$ha. You can still talk to them but do you really want to?

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Fist Anyone?

Fisting terrifies me. As much stuff as people are into sexually the idea of putting my fist (my large fist) into someone or someone putting their fist into me is 100% scary. Its one of those things where I think you have to be at a point in your life where you just don’t give a damn anymore. Its not something that can even happen by accident like anal sex. Yes, it can happen!

Wikipedia describes fisting as “Fisting (sometimes called handballing) is a sexual activity that involves inserting a hand into the vagina or rectum. Once insertion is complete, the fingers either naturally clench into a fist or remain straight. In more vigorous forms of fisting, such as "punching", a fully clenched fist may be inserted and withdrawn slowly. Fisting may be performed with or without a partner.

Urbandictionary describes it as “…the act or art of putting a fist in an ass or vagina, very popular practice among more evolved (kinky) gays. Requires great care and huge amounts of lubrication.

You have no idea how much spell checking went into correcting that last definition. I saw a fisting film once. I didn’t wanna. I walked into one. Seriously. Some customer brought a tape back and two chicks that were working at the counter were giggling and laughing at something. I like a good laugh as much as anyone. I walk up to the counter all happy until I see what’s on the screen. Some dude has his arm elbow deep in another man’s ass. Let me repeat that so it sinks in. Pun very much intended.

Elbow deep.

So of course I had to share this pain with a co-worker, the other straight guy that worked with me. I kinda warned him what was on the screen. Kinda.

Me: “Dude, something bad is happening at the counter.”


Him: “What?”


Me: “A jacked up porno.”


Him: “How so?”


Me: “Fisting.”

I probably should’ve told him that it was dudes. He rushes up there and I see his knees actually buckle like someone punched him in the jaw. He clutched the counter and looked at me with wide eyes and three shades lighter. “You fucker…” was all he could say to me before wobbling back to his room.

The messed up thing was that the guy getting rammed wasn’t even hard. And how can an arm be that far up and not have things, uh, moved where they shouldn’t be? How?!

Monday, July 4, 2011

Porn Tales 3

There was once this guy named John that worked at the porn shop. A lot of guys named John worked there actually. This is the tale of Drunk John. Now, John was about 5’3”, maybe 110lbs. He had a few teeth left in his mouth. Stringy dirty hair. He wore a sports coat and jacked up shoes. And to top it all off?

Assless white jeans.

Yes, assless white jeans. I didn’t see him come in for his interview because if I did I would have been like “Hell no!!!” So imagine my pleasure when he came in to start training. I didn’t notice the jeans until he bent over to grab his backpack and I saw his spotted, wrinkled ass. My eyes started burning and I left the counter and went to the backroom to discuss this with a manager.

Me: “He ain’t got no pants.”


Him: “What?”


Me: “Dude ain’t got no ass on his pants.”


Him: “Huh?”


Me: “He is wearing 90% of pants! And he got no draws on!”


Him: “Yes, he does.”


Me: “Watch.”

And he saw and gagged. Someone said he was actually homeless and felt bad for him so he was hired. Nope. The porn shop became a work release program apparently. He got the name Drunk John because, well, he drank. A lot.

It became super apparent one morning when I came into work and noticed that absolutely nothing had been done during the graveyard shift. I checked the security camera and saw Drunk John grab his backpack and vanish into the bathroom. He then emerged fifteen minutes later holding a cup and smiling his toothless ass off.

Moments later he grabbed a mop. I thought he was finally gonna do something. Nope. He mopped the cement floor in the back, brought a fan in to dry it, laid out some newspaper, and laid down and slept for the next five hours. He then woke up, stretched, and I arrived for work a few minutes later. This turned out to be the last straw and Drunk John was released. I got to see his ID (which had an address) and found out he was 35. The one thing I missed when he was gone and we continued doing years after he was going was this weird gasp/breathing after he drank something. You know the sound you make after you drink something that is stronger than you expected?

Aaaaagggghhh…

Yeah. That.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

5 Horrifying Things You Didn't Know About Porn Shops

First off I need to thank Josh Smith for giving me this idea. I have made a list of five things that you may or may not know about porn shops. Some of them are bad and some of them are…fucking terrifying. So the next time you head to grab some porn (which means you don’t have the internet and makes me wonder how you are reading this) think of these five things.

1. The Customers Are Scary

This seems like a given but whatever bad things you can think of people doing in public, its three times as bad. The customers will hit on you. They will try to talk to you. They will try to touch you. And you know the messed up part? You cant hit them without getting in trouble! But you can still say whatever the hell you want. But some of them like that so don’t get too fierce. “Punish me, master!” You know The Island Of Misfit Toys? Its like that. With people.

2. Your Co-Workers Are Scarier Than The Customers

At most jobs you can take comfort in the fact that no matter how shitty the job is, you can share your experiences with your fellow employees. Nope. I have worked with people who cried for no reason, multiple meth addicts, alcoholics, sexual deviants, homeless people, trannies, cross dressers, closeted homosexuals, people with anger issues, masturbators, and thieves. So many thieves. And then there’s the management. Imagine everything I just wrote but add more pay and more power.

3. You Will Clean Fluids

I have mopped up blood. I have watched bleach soak into fluids I could not identify and cause nothing to happen. I have seen bathroom floors so wet that I thought someone had just mopped. The mop was dry. The mop was dry! I once had to mop up blood and bile because the police fucked someone up the night before and the night shift didn’t want to clean it. Its not always semen you have to watch out for in porn.

4. Nothing Happens In The Back Room

People here about so much debauchery in the back room of porn shops. Nothing happens back there but work. There is more work there than at the front counter. Before I worked at a porn shop I was warned to stay out the back room. “All kinds of nasty shit happens back there!” Besides the poo water raining from the ceiling that one time, nothing nasty really happens. The bathrooms are a whole ‘nother story…

5. It Is Not Fun

Its not like Clerks. Its not like Office Space. Imagine working somewhere where a good day means you didn’t see someone whipping their cock out, no one chased anyone from the bar into your job waving a pool  cue at someone, smoking pot while looking at magazines, sneaking into a dark corner and fucking, or asking if they can return the dildos. Where a new employee doesn’t start showing up with assless jeans because the manager feels bad for him. Try not to ever work at a porn shop.