Getting dirty magazines was always an adventure when I was a kid. Before I was old enough it was a nerve-wracking ordeal to find a shop with a shopkeeper who didn’t give a monkey’s how old you were so long as you had enough cash to cover the cost of the publication.
Having said that it was always pretty nerve-wracking experience, even when I was old enough. The strange looks from the man behind the counter, the really disgusted looks if it was a woman … happy days LOL
The only time I didn’t feel guilty about buying a jazz mag was when I was blind drunk on tequila in Soho and bought a couple of mags to take back on the train to Purley (long story involving a car, a mate who worked for an insurance company and a long night of drinking). The rather grizzly guy who served us must have been pissing himself at our wobbly demeanour and glazed stares. Probably short-changed us too, and who could blame him. It was Soho after all and that’s all part of the experience. Well it was back then anyway.
Well now it’s easier, if online porn isn’t good enough for you it’s possible to have it delivered to your door. And that’s exactly what one of the UK’s adult publishers did last week. The plain grey envelope dropped onto the mat this morning and was waiting for me when I got home. Free porn, you can’t beat it.
However due to the UK’s strict porn laws it is rather edited. Unlike the stuff you can buy from a licensed sex shop, or see online, or on your phone you can’t see penetration, mouth to genital contact, toy insertion … sensible I suppose as under-age consumers could order it online or obtain it via a less than vigilant newsagent with a little subterfuge.
Anyway, tonight’s research is reading porn mags. Great. Do you actually read porn mags?