Multiply 365 Day 6 - Classic porn gripes

     The other day I was at work and because it was slow with the kids from the Art Institute and Point park University were both on Christmas break, I had some time to work on other projects that I normally wouldn't have time to get to during an average day.  In this case I was tagging what I call "classic porn" to be sold upstairs in the magazine rack.  "Classic porn" is a bunch of old porn magazines that we have had in the basement for many years now, and because they are so old (most are 10+ years or more), they can't be returned to the vendor as unsold magazines, so instead in order to recoup some of our losses, we will bundle them in groups of three and sell them for $3.99.  Not that there is much difference between "classic porn" and the regular variety, save for the women don't shave their cooch nearly as often, but maybe that was the trend back then, I can't really remember.  It has been so long for me I pretty much forgot what all of the parts look like anyway.

     So a conversation starts between Sammy and I while I am slapping price tags on the porn books when I came into a stack of old Playboy magazines, some were from Christmas 1998 or some god forsaken year.  But what struck me is what I told to Sammy, that being, you know what is so pathetic, this was the crowning achievement in these women's lives.  Almost all of them have gone on to fall into the dustbin of history, never to be remembered again, and their legacy is that at best their photos were nothing more than cum catchers for a bunch of boys just reaching puberty (and some dirty older men as well) and at worst they were nothing more than playthings for some degenerate old man.  I am sure they all thought that this would be their big break, that by posing for this magazine it would be the jump start to their careers  Instead it was just another step down a dead end path and now that they are all older (heck, they would all be at least ten years older than the cover photos we were looking at) this is it.  This is the apex of their career and it all pretty much went downhill from there.  After all, off of the top of your head (no Googling allowed) how many Playboy centerfolds can you name from 10+ years ago and where are they now?  I can think of maybe Terry Weigel, who of course went into doing adult movies, but beyond that I am at a loss.

     Why this comes up is two fold.  First was the news that once again Hugh Hefner was engaged to one of these playmates, one that is like 60 years his junior and the other being an article I ran into while searching for this past week's Asshat winner.  The Daily Mail ran an article about a book written by Izabella St James, who stayed in the Playboy mansion and some excerpts from her book detailing how the mansion was filthy and it was like a prison, where the bunnies would have to wait in line for their "allowance" and blah, blah freaking blah.

     Two things came to mind when I read this article, the first being it must be a really slow news day at the Daily Mail, if the best they can do to sell copies of the paper is to run excerpts from a book that was published in 2006 as news simply because Hefner got engaged again (to be fair, plenty of outlets have since followed the Daily Mail's lead, proving that the entire planet is getting dumber by the moment).  If nobody could be bothered to read this book 4+ years ago when it was published because it wasn't newsworthy then, it sure the hell isn't newsworthy now.

     But that was the lesser of the complaints that came into my cranium, the greater is the one that always comes to mind when I am watching Maury Povich and his baby daddy/momma drama that is all he is capable of in the realm of entertainment.  Some woman comes on the show, claims a guy is the father of the baby, but he is a no good piece of shit but she is here to make him be a daddy for her baby.  Enter more blah, blah freaking blah.  As I listen to these women continue to gripe about how much of a miserable bastard this man is, and as I was reading the Izabella St James article the only thing that came to mind wasn't what was intended I am sure, but rather one simple mantra;  "You fucked him".  For as awful as these guys are and as useless as they may or may not be, at some point you said to yourself "I would like nothing better than to have this guy jam his cock inside me."  So I ask, who's the bigger buffoon, the scumbag guy or you for spreading your legs for him.  (Don't get me started on the one's that bring the wrong guy to the show because they can't remember how many guys they fucked and treat the trip to Stamford, Connecticut as a free vacation; the more guys they bring on the show, the more free trips and hotel stays they get. That's another issue and I may need that material some months down the road.)

      Izabella St James though is another animal than those that show up on Maury's show, because St James is a whore, plain and simple.  Sure, she can talk about how dogs would shit on the carpets in the mansion, and the sheets were dirty and Hugh was like a dead fish in bed, when time came for her to stand in line for her allowance, she had no problem cashing the check.  The only difference between her and the girl working the corner for another crack fix was she got paid more and had a roof over her head, beyond that they are the same person.  So despite the whole "woe is me act", this isn't a sob story that requires a whole lot of Kleenex on my part.  Izabella St James made a career choice, that by living in a dirty, stained, dog shit filled mansion, posing naked for a magazine and having sex with a man 40 years older than her for money, those acquired skills would lead to bigger and better things.  The sad truth is that skill set won't even get you the fry cook job at McDonald's, St James would still be vastly under qualified because there are no jobs there that required you to lay on your back and let 60 year old men poke their cold, limp, fish-like members into you (though if there were, it would be a version of a senior citizen Happy Meal).  St James's 15 minutes of fame began when she posed for Playboy and probably ended some time while Hefner was on top of her grinding away, while a dog was shitting on the carpet next to the bed.  Hope it was worth it.