My Eyes! They Burn!!!

I’ve been wondering if a walk down mammory lane might be entertaining for regular non-porn people, as I’ve been up close and personal with the sights, the sounds, and yes – the smells of porn for over 20 years now and well…what a strange trip It’s been.

 

As mentioned in my last post, I was tragically naïve when I started my first job with an adult DVD distributor, so much so that it took me over a month to realize I was walking through a porn set every time I went to the warehouse…8-10 times a day. The dresser, end tables, artwork and bed never tipped me off. I figured some warehouse guy was probably living there. What finally lit the lightbulb of understanding for me? The day I walked through and noticed a pair of women’s pumps, a half empty bottle of wine and several discarded batteries. Only one glass. As I recall, the bed looked like it had exploded as well. My brain just couldn’t juxtapose used batteries with a warehouse guy. I looked up a movie owned by the company I was working for and sure enough – on the cover was the bedroom I walked through every day. I’m not proud of my situational oblivion syndrome.

 

I didn’t really spent much time around the ‘talent’ side of porn until I rented out a portion of my own warehouse to a scuzzy director who shall remain nameless because well…he’s still scuzzy. This was when I learned way more than I wanted to know about porn people and the hangers-on who follow them around in exchange for a peek at a living, breathing, bare nekked lady. Aside from the usual trivial drama that seems to surround porn actresses from the minute they wake up, over the years I have witnessed the following insults to my tender sensibilities:

 

• Three naked BBWs (Big Big Women) outside my office door, the closest bent over rifling through her Big Big Box of lingerie. I came face to face with her Big Big Anus down the massive crevasse of her ass cheeks. I’m all for babes of every shape and size getting laid, but that was the closest I’ve ever been to a naked rump that could break bones. It was intimidating.
• Three greasy butt plugs of increasing size lined up on the bathroom sink, that had apparently been recently used to ‘warm up’ an actress’ butthole in preparation for an interracial anal scene. I’m ashamed to say I couldn’t stop staring at them as I pee’d.
• Jayden Jaymes deep throating Mr. Marcus (10”) in between scenes while no cameras were rolling. This included lots of loud gagging, drooling, spitting, and generally choking on the monster which was not all that unusual, but they were doing it in the makeup room right outside my office, which was carpeted. I made the scuzzy director pay to have all the ropy strings Ms Jaymes hawked up on it…cleaned. Don’t get me started on the couch.
• Another actress set a hot iron on the carpet face down…twice, in two different places. I made the director pay for that too. The same actress also unplugged the refrigerator to plug in a curling iron…despite there being empty plugs available. At some point you just have to recognize stupid when you come across it…and accept its existence.
• Then there was the day I discovered that porn star Natasha Nice sounds just like a sea lion when she’s close to climax. I could have sworn someone had brought a barking seal into my warehouse. I actually went back to check… You never know with these guys…
• Then there was the time I came back from the warehouse to find three fully clothed guys sitting in a circle on stools massaging their exposed wieners, in preparation for a gangbang scene. It’s just not something you see every day. I asked them if they belonged to a club.
• Lastly (I have to stop somewhere) as an addendum to the greasy butt plug memory above… I once went to the bathroom during a shoot that was going on in the warehouse only to find a turd of impossible dimensions resting languidly at the bottom of the bowl. Without going into too much detail, this was not something you’d associate with a human being. An easy 3 inches in diameter and long enough to circle the bowl and nearly touch ends. I had to admire the sheer will power it would have taken to birth it. I flushed the toilet. It didn’t budge. I decided this was well outside my responsibilities as a landlord and called the production assistant to come and deal with it. Whether the offending porcelain dolphin was an example of the occupational hazards of repeated anal sex with porn-sized penises or simply an exceptional specimen of a hearty eater is not for me to say. In fact I remember all I said at the time was ‘Jesus!’ That alone is probably enough to keep me out of heaven.

 

Now that I’ve ruined everyone’s appetite I’ll wind this one down and dredge my memories for future posts. I got a million of ‘em!

Johnson Bangerwell