December 06, 2002

Unexpected Internet Porn Last night,

Unexpected Internet Porn

Last night, I fought with my computer as I tried to install Morpheus 2.0, because that's the tool I use to download music. As a side note, I'd like to say, "Hey, music industry, get a clue. There is no way in holy hell you're going to be able to stop people from accessing and downloading free music files. The Internet is your hydra; if you cut off one head (Napster), 20 more will spring forth from its severed neck." There, I feel better.

So, anyway, after probably the 18th attempt at installing the maddening software, my roommate popped her head in and asked if I could look up a couple addresses for her so she could finish up her Christmas cards. Yah, sure, you betcha. No problem. Just let me remove my foot from the screen.

I entered into the address bar and pressed Enter. I swear, that's all I did. I didn't actually type in or anything. Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, my screen came alive with all manner of Internet porn. Pop-up after pop-up featuring exposed female beaver and donkeys being sucked off by truly adventurous women with no self-esteem kept flashing before my eyes, and the eyes of my poor roomie.

I'm okay with Internet porn. As an avid Web surfer, I've grown used to the fact that a standard surfing session is bound to include the occasional click into the realm of penises and vaginas. You know, if I'm lucky. I'm pretty much convinced that, if it weren't for the proliferation of online porn, the Internet would be a hollow shell of its current state.

But, at least when I accidently, and somtimes purposely, peruse a porn site, I'm all by myself. Last night, with donkey sex and fisting and the use of carrots and cucumbers for far more than simple nutrition being broadcast, my roomie stood right behind me, soaking in way more than the addresses she came seeking in the first place. It was just a little bit embarrasing, to say the least.

I tried to commence with the standard game of digital whack-a-mole, closing down the pop-ups as they came onscreen, but that only had the cascading effect of prompting even more porn pop-ups. So many exposed beavers and raw sex. I would have been turned on if I weren't so embarrased. I should note here that I don't get embarrased easily (see previous post).

"Um, er, well. What the hell is going on?" I finally managed to stutter.

"I don't know, but there's a lot of it," said Amy.

I finally managed to cut down the final porn site, featuring vaginal views that even most gynecologists don't see, and proceeded to look up the addresses Amy stopped in to get.

She then left my room in a bit of a hurry, apparently eager to leave me by myself and my lecherous pursuit of all things pornographic.

Posted by Ryan at December 6, 2002 11:37 AM
Post a comment

Remember personal info?

StumbleUpon Toolbar Stumble It!