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The Evolution Of My Porn Consumption

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There are only two types of people in this world who don’t love porn: asexuals and eunuchs. The rest of us love porn. As porn lovers, most of us can vividly remember how awesome it was to see a nipple for the first time. We’ve been chasing that high ever since, like a junkie trying to find a useful vein between two rotting toes. Since childhood, there has been a distinct evolution in how we as a society obtain, watch, and hide our porn. Allow me to explain.

National Geographic

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It’s hard to believe that African safari tits were responsible for taking the masturbation V-cards of so many men our age. I can’t remember the last time I saw an actual copy of National Geographic, but if I ever see one again, it’s safe to bet that I would shuffle through the pages looking for nipples purely out of muscle memory.

The Victoria’s Secret Catalog

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This was the “gateway drug” of porn that opened the door to a whole new world of endless fapportunities. Hiding a Victoria’s Secret catalog was either optional or mandatory, depending on how slutty your mom was.

The Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition

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My Kathy Ireland Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition got more playing time in 1992 than Cal Ripken, Jr. This was the first time I used a combination of creativity and deception to hide my porn, although I’m fairly certain all dudes think they were the first to replace the cover of the swimsuit edition with a previous issue of SI, which likely featured Ken Griffey, Jr. It’s no different than border collies that are born with the instinct to herd–all guys are born with an instinct for hiding porn.

Squig/Scrambled Porn

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When the cable companies initially offered the Playboy channel for a monthly charge, they offered every cable subscriber a free “sneak peak” in a squiggly-lined, scrambled video format with crystal clear audio. What the cable company had created was an overnight sensation that quickly became the number one source of porn for America’s youth. Hiding squig required catlike reflexes to keep the remote pointed at the muted TV with your finger on the “recall” button so that anyone barging into your room would see that you were actually watching “Home Improvement.”

Skinemax

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If you were lucky enough to grow up in a household with HBO or Cinemax, you undoubtedly watched a shitload of pretend fucking. The day I found out there wasn’t real penetration in softcore was worse than the days I found out wrestling was fake and Santa wasn’t real combined. The key to not getting caught watching “Bikini Carwash” was positioning yourself at an angle with your bedroom door that gave you the most possible reaction time to change the channel in case of an emergency interruption.

Nudie Mags

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We’ve got bush! Most of us took ownership of our first dirty magazine by devising a detail-oriented “Ocean’s Eleven”-type heist to steal a piece from our friend’s dad’s collection. Everybody remembers the excitement of finding the perfect hiding spot for nudie mags, but in every stage of the evolution of porn from here on out, hiding porn becomes a hassle–unless, of course, you’re one of the lucky few who catches a “uniporn” woman who shares your fondness for watching other people fuck and takes you to a titty bar on your birthday. Ladies, I’m going to give you the only secret to a successful, monogamous relationship: surprise him with the gift of seeing somebody else naked every once in a while. I swear to God, it’s that fucking easy.

VHS/DVDs

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Purchasing a full-length, hardcore adult film that could be watched repeatedly was a groundbreaking concept. This was thoroughly enjoyable before shit got real with internet porn, which spoils us with a selection and variety that even the most devout porn enthusiast couldn’t compete with back in the day. The easiest way to hide VHS/DVD porn was to buy a copy of Dane Cook’s standup, take a shit on the copy of his talentless routine, and replace it with dirty, filthy porn. There is, however, something to be said for three full hours of uninterrupted penetration. Manually fast-forwarding to the money shot was tedious work, but it gave our generation a sense of accomplishment and self-worth.

Early Internet Porn

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Our parents paid an hourly premium for us to have the privilege of spending three hours downloading a 463kb image. This was also a time when we still believed the internet had the same consequences as real life. If entering a porn site meant declaring that we were over 18 years of age, we hastily clicked the “back” button so as not to risk being thrown in a federal prison for breaking internet laws. There were no guidelines for hiding your trail of internet porn at this time, so most of us just went through our daily lives stressed the fuck out, but convinced it was totally worth it.

Limewire

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Revenue from the porn industry dropped more than 293 trillion percent the day Limewire launched. Since that day, we haven’t spent a single penny on porn, unless it was for an awesomely unnecessary luxury like a subscription to Brazzers. A typical day in the Limewire era: wake up, open Limewire, put 25 vids in the download queue, go to class only if necessary, get high, eat, shit, sleep, go to the bar, and then come home to watch the only three successful downloads that weren’t duplicates and didn’t stall.

The Tube Era

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Pornhub is one of the most popular websites in the world, offering visitors an infinite pick of genres, subgenres, and subgenres of subgenres, proving the truth behind “Rule #34” of the internet, which states that if something exists, there is a pornographic version of it. I’m not sure what the future could possibly have to offer beyond Pornhub, unless Apple invents iCum, which wakes you up every morning with an old-fashioned. Hiding internet porn today involves more work than I have patience for, which is why I have completely given up on taking the time to fully erase my shameful browser history.

I will, however, leave you with the golden rule of internet porn. If you don’t want anybody to see your highly distasteful trail of creampie compilations, for fuck’s sake, clear your history and delete your cookies after every single batin’ sesh, because you never know when your reckless search queries will come back to haunt you. One time, some friends and I got on our buddy’s computer to look something up and with one keystroke of the letter “p” populated two words: “Peter North.”

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Cody Sutton

Cody Mack Sutton is a born and raised Texan that only took five and a half years to proudly graduate from Texas A&M University. If he had a resume, it would probably be long and distinguished. Often referred to by his family as a "Renaissance Man,” Cody is currently holding out for a Senior level management position with a corner office.

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