There’s a new trend in adult entertainment, where companies are living out the requests of the individual. I attempted to come up with some ideas, but it’s harder than you think.


“Customs – bespoke porn – is a new growth industry in the Valley. In houses all around us, teams of professional porn-makers are staying afloat by conjuring into life entire films for just one viewer.” – Jon Ronson, The Guardian.

Okay, now this is a satirist’s wet dream. Crazy custom porn requests? I am so gleefully rubbing my hands together right now! Just my hands.


The Big Bang

A white male particle physicist calls for a Hadron Collider repairman. But the repairman turns out to be a busty Swiss science-woman with attached earlobes and a computery-blinky prosthetic leg. She introduces herself as Higgs Bosom and no sooner has she tightened the head gasket on the Low Energy Ion Ring than they begin to mate. They conclude by coauthoring a groundbreaking paper on quark–gluon plasma.

Okay, wow, turns out that precise scenario is already online on Pornhub (so I’m told) and it even features a complete abstract of the paper. Interesting. Alright, time to ditch the cliché pizza delivery/babysitter/high energy physics format altogether.


Condiment Swimming Pool

A busty Californian in a swimsuit is lounging poolside. Condiments pour all over her from above. Ketchup, relish, mustard and so forth. No nudity. No sex. No tension, even. Just totally goofy and not possibly a turn-on for any… oh, hold on, my Mom just pointed out that was one of the videos specifically described in the above-mentioned Guardian article. It’s on Pornhub. Guess it’s time to crack the satire knuckles and get serious.


Network Penetration Protocol

A white male man becomes frustrated with the network firewall that prevents him from accessing Pornhub at his workplace. He enrolls in a network administration class at a community college. The instructor, a busty Uruguayan, is a knowledgeable and effective teacher. Within three academic quarters, the man has the technical skills to hack through the company firewall and access Pornhub.

Oh, come on! Mum says this actually happened and there’s a Matthew Broderick documentary about it called Whore Games (now that’s just misleading) exclusively on Amazon Prime. She also tells me to look up “Internet Rule 34.” To which I reply: look up “Knock before entering!” Booyah.


Canned Lutefisk

You want documentary? Here’s a documentary miniseries that’s not so mini: white male documentarist Ken Burns drops 44 hours and 17 minutes of movingly informative history on the 19th-century fish canning industry. Lots of busty – scratch that: barely legal – Norwegian-Americans feature and in the final episode a white male person mates with several of them in a steamy pan/zoom montage of fascinating archival stills.

What! Yes, Internet Rule 34 reads, hang on… “If it exists, there is porn of it, no exceptions.” Satisfied, Mum?!

Aw jeez.

Okay. Yup. Canned Lutefisk was released in 2014 by one Kenny Smolders, famous for having a really long doc.


Heliocentric Luftschiff Babes from the General Area around Coastal Argentina

A sleep-deprived and dangerously dehydrated white male award-winning freelance writer loses track of the days Googling every porn idea he can think of. Moments from collapse, he finally sees the holy grail: “Your search did not match any documents.” Breathlessly clutching a six-pack of Mr Pibb and a first edition of Copernicus’s De revolutionibus orbium coelestium, he commandeers a dirigible shaped like Dag Hammarskjöld and liberates 1,700 busty Schengen-Area cheerleaders and dental hygienists being held prisoner on the Falkland Islands by a half-man, half-antelope sociopath with a tattoo-needle tattoo named Kevin Wilson. No wait, Kevin Williams. A whole bunch of super-specific stuff happens for several hours, with lots of obscure references, and then he mates with all 1,700 passengers, not all of whom are ladies, or mammals, ultimately landing the dirigible onstage at Live Aid in Wembley Stadium. Take that, Rule 34.

Because that is not online. Not even on Pornhub.

Oh, for goodness sake.

Mum says that exact thing happened to her in 1985 on an ecstasy spree. She also says to look up Rule 35.



Evidence surfaces that the most powerful man in the world allegedly and on multiple occasions… oh, forget it. Ship has sailed.

No, it’s alright, don’t worry about it, Mum. Well, thank you. Yes, it means a lot that you believe in my writing. But taking on the all-spewing firehose of polymorphous human sexuality in the Early Baroque Pornhub era was more than I could handle. I choked. And failure is hard to swallow. So very hard. Etcetera.

And now I’m all drained of ideas. Maybe I’ll just submit something to that Yard Maintenance & Outdoor Shelving magazine you brought home for me. Sigh.

Unless… hmm…


Super Warm Enjoyable Weekend II

A cheerful couple are preparing breakfast together on a Saturday morning. They are clearly very much in love and enjoying each other’s company, even when one of them gets the slightest bit annoyed at the other for spilling some coffee on the table. No matter, it’s easily cleaned up! Over the course of breakfast, we learn that last night was their anniversary. They had a nice dinner out and then made affectionate, totally vanilla love in a prolonged and satisfying manner and then fell asleep in each other’s arms. After breakfast they decide to finally put up those outdoor shelves. The End.

What’s that, Mum? Pornhub, you say? Except it was orange juice they spilled? Yes, the coffee was my very own, original idea. Wow. I did it.


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