Let me begin with some serious science.

We are all aware that porn is degrading to everyone involved.  This, contrary to popular opinion, is a good thing.

Can you imagine how the world would be if those muscular freaks with gigantic cocks and a horde of women blessed with magnificent breasts, hyper-mobile joints, and no gag-reflex were not riddled with depression, self-loathing and drug abuse?  Imagine if they were all skipping around happily?  It would be so enormously disheartening for us all.

Porn works because we men believe we might stand a vague chance with a saucy porn slut because she’s almost certain to be a complete emotional wreck.  A tiny part of our minds believes that she’ll marry us and shag our brains out if we knit her a jumper rather than try to insert a baseball bat into her anus.  We fail to grasp that she’d then promptly dump us when she realises our puny human genitals cannot touch her walls. 

            To needlessly clarify matters:

We normal men are a two-seater sofa and a small Ikea coffee table.  Male porn freaks are one of those fifteen-seater sofas that are U-shaped and the kind of dining table only used in 15th Century castles.  Most women, in my experience, are a council bed-sit.  Most porn tarts appear to be international airports.

Both the Humans and the Porns are inherently physically incompatible to such an extent that they must be classified as different species.  Using this logic we can now fully justify using the Porns for scientific experimentation and gain great amusement from their debasement with no guilt whatsoever.
           
Now we’ve cleared that up we can address my main point without any kind of sympathy.

           
Porn is running out of places to go.  We have mined every hole.  This fact is proven by the apparent new trend of the lady Porn snorting the steroid-laced fluids of the male.  There is evidence that this is genuine.  I have not witnessed this personally due to my internet provider’s bandwidth cap.  However, it is clear that porn is really running out of new things to do.

Now, I don’t want to criticise the porn-producer’s lack of imagination.  They’ve done very well to get us to this point.  I personally would not have realised that the general public would have found a woman reeling back as salty-leavings slap against her sinuses erotic.  Matted nostril hair and the sneeze that surely must inevitably follow… it’s not quite as obviously sensual as the double-anal we’re used to.

I can only guess at what the future may hold.  I suspect it will involve carefully unloading into the lady’s ear and then putting a small cocktail umbrella in it.  I can’t help but think a certain degree of stagnation is looming though.  Let’s face it, it took them long enough to move on from the “try and get it in her eyes and hair” that always guarantees the woman instantly switching from pretend enjoyment to barely-masked rage.

Desensitisation is an ever-present problem in these wonderful internet times.  The endless hunger for novelty is not being sated.  A jumpstart is needed.  Porn… I shall be your sparking God-finger.

I have decided to compose a list of new and uplifting pornternatives…

1. Give porn a grand continuity.

This is simple and quite practical.

Did Jeff ever discover that his mother was a Mother His Friends Liked to Fuck?  This kind of thing always comes out when someone’s drunk a few years later.  Perhaps this is what caused him to decide to insert baseball bats into women?  I mean, the fact he fucked his therapist in that other movie proved that she was grossly unprofessional and thus probably not going to cure his depression.

And how about the mother?  She kept complaining about her husband not paying attention to her… is that because her husband is wearing a gas mask and being flogged with lengths of barbed wire?  What drove him to this?  Was it the fact his waspish daughter was gangbanged by twenty men in an event that heralded the logical conclusion of the Civil Rights movement?

What about the members of the gangbang spectacular?  Did any of them consider that being in the same room as nineteen other naked men with only one woman might be… well… ninety-five percent gay?  Perhaps this then caused him to star in something with lumberjacks.

How about all these barely-legal schoolgirls who are getting A’s for shagging their teacher?  Do they all get high-flying jobs as a result despite the fact they’re utterly illiterate?  If they go on to be saucy co-eds they can logically fuck their way to a PHD… and… in theory… the presidency.  Little Tammy could fuck her way to causing nuclear war via Poleing The Erectorate.

2. Show the what happens after ejaculation.

Now this would be interesting.  We’ve already enjoyed the build-up, now let’s get the afterglow… or, more specifically, the complaining, the soreness, and the awkward conversation. 

Let the post-wank viewer enjoy someone shouting “cut” and the woman screaming abuse as stumbles blindly around in search of a bottle of eyewash.  Let’s hear her shouting “I think you tore my taint in half… god… my guts are going to fall out”.  How about the awkward conversation as the gangbang men all suddenly lose their hormones and realise they spent quite a lot of time rubbing their genitals against each other?  Or the great shout of “You missed and spunked all over my balls you bastard”…

How about the woman, so full of anti-depressants, blankly trudging over to a bag full of prescription pills and not noticing the hockey-stick is still up there?  Perhaps the camera could follow her around to capture the mild look of confusion as she gets in her car and tries to work out why brakes are jammed on.  We could keep the camera on her until it finally drops out in the queue at McDonalds four days later and a small child snatches it up gleefully.  In the Porn Continuity he will, fifteen years later, become a star alcoholic hockey player who is sentenced to “coach” a team of sexy ladies in The Mighty Fucks XII.

No scripting would be allowed.  None.  No editing or re-takes either.  Every porn watcher would wait with breathless excitement in hope of hitting the holy grail… someone’s phone ringing and one of the stars, drenched in fluids, answering and explaining to their husband or wife that they’ll pick up little Jimmy on the way home from the office.  They will then turn to the viewer, imploringly, and utter the immortal phrase “please don’t tell him what I do…”
           
Then the fun begins.

As part of a church-sponsored contest the first person to hunt down and tell their spouse about their wife or husband’s dark secret will win a thousand pounds and the right to execute one person with a larger penis or perkier breasts.

3. A pornstar cap.

No, not a hat…  I mean a quota...  Once the limit is reached there can be no new Porns until one of the previous ones dies.  If someone brutally murders or “scores” one of the Porns they will take their place.  If one Porn kills another Porn they will be allowed to nominate the new Porn from a list of everyone on Earth’s girlfriends.

There will be several exciting developments as a result of this.  Firstly the Porns will be paid a vast sum in order to compensate them for the inherent danger of their occupation… and for having to bang away at increasingly tired sets of genitals.

The next is the exciting possibilities regarding “scoring”.  There will be two ways to “score”…  The first will be the traditional hunting and killing in the outside world.  The Porns will be allowed to fortify their properties and hire thugs…  However, they must go out and buy their shopping and cigarettes on their own.  They will be allowed to carry a gun but only semi-automatics will be allowed.

There will be no “safe-time” for those who have just “scored” a Porn.  Thus if they kill a Porn in a public place they are instantly in danger of being mobbed by other would-be Porns.  This will encourage people to put some effort in when it comes to planning… or at least some humorous pile-ons.

The other way to “score” a Porn will be in weekly gladiatorial combat.  One porn will nominated by the public to enter a Mad Max-style Thunderdome and fight, naked and oiled, while attached to bungee cords.  The only weapons allowed are the contents of the Anne Summer’s website. 

There will be no gender quotas inside the overall Porn quota.  This will lead to amusing situations where the only available Porns will be of the same gender.  This will either create a golden age of girl on girl action or some gleefully awkward decision making for the all-male Porns as there will be a mandatory one film a week requirement.  If they do not make the one film a month one explosive butt-plug will be detonated at random.

Of course, this will all still have to be kept within the Porn Continuity and thus porn writers will finally have to put some damn effort in. 

4. Competition.

Now this is the one I actually thought through… a bit…

It’s time to start a serious competitive Porn league.  We could call it the Cunnolympics or something funnier.

There are several possible events and, keeping with the Porn Continuity… or Porninuity… there would be a running leader-board with prizes at the end of the year.  One possible prize could be “the option to retire”.  At every film there must be a small fat, bald, Norwegian man to ratify the result.

One event would be the Shot Drop.  To enter the Porn must receive one standard load of grim man-fluid in one of the two lower orifices and then see how close they can get to the toilet before it all falls out on the expensive rug.  Distances would be marked out like in the javelin.  If too many people make it to the toilet the toilet will be moved further away… like in the ski-jump when people keep landing on the flat bit and their legs go through their shoulders.

This single event could revitalise novelty in porn.  Perhaps the John Wayne Waddle to the crapper might prove not to be the most effective method of retention.  Much like the Fosbury Flop took high-jumping to the next level we would find new and exciting developments.  Just crawling all the way there doesn’t count.

All of the action will be commentated on by darts legend Sid Waddel and grill legend George Foreman.

“Aye, the canny lass is keeping ‘er arse-cheeks clenched with the ferocity of a pupil of Aristotle.”
“Buuuuuuy maaaaaa grull”
“Oh, she’s wavering, I cannae bear to look…”
“Da spunk drains right into the ruuuug”

“Aye, this ’un’s going with the cartwheel an’ relying on centrifugal force to keep his dripping in ‘er bucket.”
“Another piece of my brain dun gone fell out.”
“Fifty feet… she’s gonna make it…”
“She gone dun slipped and broke ‘er neck.”
“Tell me about the rabbits George.”
“They dun drains right into the tray.”

We’d see such breathtaking things.  Women and men would be attempting epic leaps off bedside cabinets followed by commando rolls only to have their heart broken as the Norwegian man rushes forwards to plant a flag on a tiny damp spot ten feet behind them.  There’d be clumsy handstands by people who’ve just been rigorously banged about the room and have the balance of ninety year-old.

Another great event would be the Thigh Drive… an incredibly dangerous sport where the receiver must clamber to the top of a diving board thirty feet above the bed.  They must then attempt to dive directly onto the target’s engorged member.  They will be judged on style, rotation, and the size of the splash.

There would obviously be a very low success rate but so many absolutely hilarious injuries.

Another option is the Long-Hump.  Each competitor would have the best of three thrusts to see how far they could propel their partner.  A short run up would be allowed and a foul will be treated by the finest surgeons in the country with a sponge and a bucket of cold water.  Conveniently the spunk-smeared Shot Drop rug would be reused to save money and provide a soft, moist landing.

I would also throw in the Four Hundred Meat Her relay, the Dicksus, the Breast Stroke, the Fisting Hundred Metres, and the Curdles… because these are the various witty names I came up with but can’t be arsed to type about.

5. All porn must be filmed in the same room as a tiger that hasn’t been fed in nine days.

Kinda self-explanatory really.

back to duck.