* 200 articles. Two years. Whelk. The best of Upsideclown. Might be reprinted.

Unnatural Porn Thrillers

13 June 2002
Jamie doesn't have a girlfriend

It's a Man Only debut today for Suzi, 23, from Epping. She's a dentist's assistant and part-time student. We'd certainly like to teach her a thing or two; mind you, as you can see from these red-hot pictures, she's already well familiar with the phrase 'Open wide'!

Funny as it may seem, I'm still undecided about porn. Not on moral grounds - I don't imagine the girls get too upset about the fact that they're being paid good money for stripping down to their bare essentials to exploit sad desperate weak men - but I'm just not sure it always does the job it's meant to.

Take these pictures, for example. A pretty girl, untouched by gravity, lying/kneeling/spread-eagled on the floor/bed/table in various states of undress - that should do the trick for me. Especially considering a Beckham free kick gets me pretty bloody aroused, the way things are going at the moment in my love life. But sometimes I see those photos and just get an empty feeling, pure nothingness (emotionally and physically, which is generally a disappointment), and have to just switch the light off and go to sleep.

The same goes for videos. My student flatmate's got some terrible stuff (he once confided to me he likes 'scenes with lots of spuffing on faces', which was a charming way to put it), but it's just done nothing for me. Even the Channel 5-style soft porn rubbish we get on Fox Kids late at night isn't doing the trick. Gutting.

It's a real loss to me. I can still remember the excitement of truly stimulating material, the thrill of snatching an illicit magazine or book from a mate's room, of secreting it about your person and trying to walk without it showing. That's the fun of boarding school, anyway - normal people have very different memories, I'm sure. Railway sidings and parks spring to mind. But the material itself was newer, fresher, more exciting. Where did it go wrong?

Well, of course there was the novelty of nudity back then. Now, it's not the most delicate expression, but the fact is, you've seen one, you've seen them all. And the ones you haven't seen are probably a bit freakish. Like this one with a piercing, or this one that's just the wrong size and shape all together. Bizarre. But generally, it's a case of no alarms and no surprises. Plus, it goes without saying that there's a big difference between just seeing something and having the opportunity to interact with it. You can never go back with the same enthusiasm to a few sheets of stain-resistant glossy paper.

And I guess that, despite obvious efforts to the contrary, I have matured. Back then, a silicone-enhanced 19 year-old with nothing on but scarlet lipstick, strappy heels and half a pair of knickers was just what I was looking for. Now, I'd probably get bored by our lack of common interests and go out with a librarian instead. God, I sound like an old twat. I've even been through a phase of fancying redheads above all other colours; originally I thought that fiery meant good in the sack, but I've come to realise I wanted someone who could stand up for themselves. Bizarre. Luckily though, I saw Julianne Moore's freckles and milk-white skin in Boogie Nights and was soon back to my normal self.

But don't worry - there is hope for me. Every time I think I'm being led down the path of pornless maturity, something comes along that restores my faith in all that is depraved or even just slightly wrong. I just received the best ever gift in the post, a blast from the past in more ways than one. Some of you may remember Dannii Minogue posing for Australian Playboy back in 1995; I know I do. One picture made up the single best Page Three in history, so much so that we kept it in our common room for about eight months until the actress-turned-songstress had turned a funny shade of mauve. Well, a thoughtful friend, aware of my current plight, decided that regression was the best way forward and sent me the whole magazine to cure me of my sickness. I'll let you know how it goes. Shouldn't take long.


This is the fucking archive

Current clown:

18 December 2003. George writes: This List

Most recent ten:

15 December 2003. Jamie writes: Seven Songs
11 December 2003. Dan writes: Spinning Jenny
8 December 2003. Victor writes: Rock Opera
4 December 2003. Matt writes: The Mirrored Spheres of Patagonia
1 December 2003. George writes: Charm
27 November 2003. James writes: On Boxing
24 November 2003. Jamie writes: El Matador del Amor; Or, the Man who Killed Love
20 November 2003. Dan writes: Rights Management
17 November 2003. Victor writes: Walking on Yellow
13 November 2003. Matt writes: Disintermediation
(And alas we lost Neil, who last wrote Cockfosters)

Also by this clown:

15 December 2003. Jamie writes: Seven Songs
24 November 2003. Jamie writes: El Matador del Amor; Or, the Man who Killed Love
13 October 2003. Jamie writes: The Persistence of Memory
22 September 2003. Jamie writes: The Email Eunuch
1 September 2003. Jamie writes: Credo
11 August 2003. Jamie writes: Brad and Jennifer and Me
21 July 2003. Jamie writes: Interruption
30 June 2003. Jamie writes: Do you remember the first time?
12 June 2003. Jamie writes: Forthcoming Attractions
19 May 2003. Jamie writes: Stupid Mistake
28 April 2003. Jamie writes: Hoping and Praying
7 April 2003. Jamie writes: Strangers on a Plane
17 March 2003. Jamie writes: Q&A
24 February 2003. Jamie writes: Altered States
3 February 2003. Jamie writes: How to say goodbye
13 January 2003. Jamie writes: In A League Of Their Own
23 December 2002. Jamie writes: What's in a name?
2 December 2002. Jamie writes: Lies, Damned Lies and Spastics
11 November 2002. Jamie writes: Memoirs of a Gaysian: A Preface
21 October 2002. Jamie writes: Love is blindness
30 September 2002. Jamie writes: Time for bed
9 September 2002. Jamie writes: Angry Exchanges Can Be Puzzling [10]
19 August 2002. Jamie writes: High Speed
29 July 2002. Jamie writes: Firkin Hell
8 July 2002. Jamie writes: Do you, er... haiku?
13 June 2002. Jamie writes: Unnatural Porn Thrillers
20 May 2002. Jamie writes: The Triumphant Return of the Septic Fiveskins
25 April 2002. Jamie writes: Meeting People is Easy
4 April 2002. Jamie writes: I Want I Want I Want
7 March 2002. Jamie writes: The Player of Games
11 February 2002. Jamie writes: Fat Man Walking
17 January 2002. Jamie writes: Passive/Aggressive
3 January 2002. Jamie writes: Love (classified)
29 November 2001. Jamie writes: A Lil' Nite Muzak
5 November 2001. Jamie writes: Natural born liar
11 October 2001. Jamie writes: All I need
17 September 2001. Jamie writes: Postcards From The Edge (of the pool)
23 August 2001. Jamie writes: Class act
30 July 2001. Jamie writes: Ritchie Neville is dead
5 July 2001. Jamie writes: A Letter from God
11 June 2001. Jamie writes: "If it's in French, it must be deep"
17 May 2001. Jamie writes: Reportage
23 April 2001. Jamie writes: Show me the Logos
29 March 2001. Jamie writes: Sobering Thoughts
8 March 2001. Jamie writes: Stupid, Stupid, Stupid
8 February 2001. Jamie writes: Spent
15 January 2001. Jamie writes: Full to the brim
21 December 2000. Jamie writes: fuck xmas
27 November 2000. Jamie writes: Eye Candy
2 November 2000. Jamie writes: World-wide-web?
9 October 2000. Jamie writes: Kids' stuff
14 September 2000. Jamie writes: Scatological Warfare
21 August 2000. Jamie writes: I can't stand up (for falling clowns)
10 July 2000. Jamie writes: The Etymology of Greatness

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