Quote:

I look forward to being a parent one day, so I can bitch to my son that, in my day, we had to work for our pornography.



Back in the day, circa 1978, I had to drive 1.5 hours to another town (my town banned porno movies and we had a motivated DA) just to watch movies shown in a big old empty theatre that smelled like piss and sperm (most of you who read this board can just sniff your underwear to see what that combo smells like). They showed two movies per week and you just had to hope they might be strokeable, cause there was no such thing yet as a porn guide or reviews. I'd take an old hoodie in to lay over my dick, er, lap and make my way down to a seat near the front, trying not to make eye contact with the faggos that hung out in the lobby. And if you sat in the back, that meant you wanted some "action" (shudder). You really haven't lived until you've seen a 50-foot dick penetrating a 51-foot vagina. But that was all there was and we loved it.

Also, the projector in this place would freeze and the film would burn up in mid-coitus at least once per visit, so then they'd bring the house lights up (horrors) and you'd get to sit there in mild uncomfortableness while the old guy who ran the projector spliced the film back together.

The only thing that made these trips worth it were Annette Haven, Leslie Bovee, Desire Coustea, etc. Even if their pubic regions did look like they were smuggling a dead possum.

Ah, memories.I swear the porn was hotter back then, if only because you had to make such an effort to get in front of it.