Rose Review - Sex on Tape

The first time I watched porn I was a 12-year-old super-virgin hanging out at my friend Ashley’s house. Ashley was a total bad girl, a klepto skinhead. I, on the other hand, was an over-achieving Jew who loved folk music and patchouli oil. Anyone else smell a terrible sitcom? The simple truth is that Ashley was popular. What was I gonna do? NOT hang out with a popular girl just because she had a death wish for my people? Please, this was middle school.

Ashley was also very experienced because she had a real, live boyfriend, unlike my imaginary one who lived in Canada (his name was Steven Winters and he had blue eyes, BTW). And Ashley was having actual sex! It was all very impressive. Whenever we hung out I asked her a million questions. How do you do it? Does he pee into you? How do you know when it’s over? Fortunately, she agreed to describe the whole steamy scenario:

The rule is, he’s not allowed to see my vagina, so I make him close his eyes. Then he starts jerking off so he can get hard, while I sit there and wait. As soon as he’s ready, he lays on top of me and, you know, goes in and out a couple of times until he cums. And that’s it.

Are you kidding me? I had never been so underwhelmed in my life. Why did he have to masturbate to get the party started? Couldn’t they just make out? Even zero-experience me could tell that this was wack as shit. It seemed like a depressing doctor’s visit, except in this case, the doctor was 13 with a buzz cut and had never seen a vagina. Are you sure you’re doing it right? I wanted to ask. But I didn’t want to offend her. “Wow, you’re so lucky,” I responded instead. I made a mental note: Never do “the sex.”

Then one day during one of our weekly hangs in her bedroom she told me she found a porno movie under her mom’s bed. It was called The Devil in Ms. Jones and it was from the 70s. We put it in the VCR and waited for the smut to begin. All I remember is that a haggard old woman (she was probably in her late 20s) was sitting in an empty bathtub, putting grapes into her vagina. Yeah, you heard me. Grapes! I was shocked. Adults be so crazy!

I wanted to stop watching the movie but I didn’t want to seem like a dork. So instead, I made my eyes kind of lazy so the image would get fuzzy and I could have less nightmares later. Between Ashley’s sterile sex story and this creepy porn, I decided that fornicating was strictly for Jew-hating lunatics with avant-garde notions about fruit. Count me out.

Cut to over a decade later and I’m still a proud virgin. Sike. However, I still don’t watch porn. I know all you porn hounds reading VICE do, some other girls do, and a couple of my friends like it, and that's all fine but it just skeeves me out. There is no tension, there is no seduction, it’s just meat slaps. Call me a human being but I need the sense there is some actual connection between two people to find sex sexy. Otherwise it’s just watching horses breed. Which is certainly interesting, but not sensual.

Recently, I decided to give porn another chance when an arty, intellectual friend told me about this feminist sex documentary called A Herstory of Porn. I figured I should check it out. Maybe I’d like this one. So on a bright, sunny afternoon I put in the DVD and waited to get all hot and bothered. Surprise! I was just bothered. Oh porn, you did it again! And by "it" I mean made me wish I could un-see things. I literally had to cover my eyes with my hands during certain parts. Did you know that a rainbow shower is when you vomit on someone? Neither did I. You’re welcome!

Mostly the movie was just clips of Annie Sprinkles having sex with various entities; men, women, midgets, amputees, couples, a felt horse. She should definitely be on America’s Got Talent. I turned off the movie right when an amputee was putting Crisco on his stump and fucking her with it. I’d seen enough. I know what you’re thinking: There is so much great porn out there, you just happened to watch the terrible stuff. Maybe you’re right, but since I hate it, I’m not gonna do my research and I’m not gonna find out. It was kind of sentimental though; watching A Herstory of Porn really made me feel like a kid again. Totally fucking traumatized.

Previously - Hook-up Playlist

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