Moving things around in the storage shed today, we literally had porn falling from the rafters on us.
A shoebox fell from a storage area, and (ahem) out popped a bevy of DVDs and vintage VHS tapes, including the 1978 classic (or so I’ve heard), “Debbie Does Dallas.”
There were also some homemade VHS tapes that I think we can presume, you know, weren’t old football games.
I was half-inclined to track down a VCR to see what was on them, but, no, the wife made it clear, it all goes to the trash.
(Which gets picked up tomorrow. The guys on the truck might find themselves something interesting if they’re paying attention.)
Not being prudish here. I mean, as long as all the people acting in the videos were adults, weren’t coerced, got paid, I mean, it’s people having orgasms.
I’ve got nothing against orgasms.
I do feel bad for whoever’s stash this was, that when they were packing, they were probably thinking, “Can’t forget the porn stash,” and then when they got to the new house, and everything was unpacked, they were, like, “Damn!”
I want to assume it was a teen-ager, and it’s not like you could just say, “Mom, I left, uh, something, at the old house. Can we go back and get it?”
And you wouldn’t want to bother the new homeowners.
“Hey, can I look in the shed for something? I left my, um, my, er, my basketball. Yeah, my basketball.”
From the look at the movies, we’re talking late-‘90s vintage, so this kid has outgrown the acne, the awkwardness around girls, probably is married, has kids.
If you message me, I’ll retrieve them out of the trash for you.
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Chris Graham
