Jerked Into Addiction

First, the bastards made me walk a mile and a half to my favorite bar (And still I came perilously close to being arrested Saturday night for walking while intoxicated). Then they told me to stand outside that bar while smoking a cigarette so that my secondhand fumes wouldn’t present a health risk for pickled townie alcoholics pursuing anonymous, unprotected sex with other pickled townie alcoholics. And now when I go home, they want it to be with blue balls. Keep yer hand cream dry, kids! They’re-a comin’ after the porn!

It’s official: I am now totally illegal.

At least the anti-porn people have realized that their old arguments didn’t make any sense. I’m no statistician, but the way I see it, a billion people have Internet access, and forty percent of them look at porn. That’s about four hundred million porno fans. If the old arguments were right, I shouldn’t be able to swing a dead cat without knocking a white cane out of some dude’s semen-encrusted, hairy palm. Assuming I could even find a dead cat with my white cane.

So what’s their new argument? It’s that looking at porn releases dopamine into your brain. Cigarettes do the same thing, so they’re claiming that porno can become a compulsion to people with addictive personalities, to the point where they can lose their jobs. Although I think it’s less addictive and more delusional to blame the porn industry for taking your cock out at work.

Once again: 400 million porno fans worldwide, yet I’ve not seen one dick in the office. And I’ve worked in rock radio. Your dick waving under your desk? That’s all you.

Look: I am the most addictive personality on the planet. I smoke two packs a day and I drink every time I get the opportunity to be awake. And yet somehow I find the wherewithal to be able to string together eight hours a day when I’m not jerking off.

You know something? Addictive or not, you can have my Internet porn when you pry it from my warm, sticky fingers. And I’ll see your addiction and raise you a prostate that can crack walnuts, eat cancer and shit amphetamines. If porn makes my brain know artificial happiness, it makes my prostate know the sound of one hand clapping… thanks to the sound of one hand clapping.