Porn Starts Somewhere

"When you close your eyes, is it hell you see?"

-Ginger Snaps

It's interesting the things people do for porn. A man's large pornography collection valued at close to $1,000 was stolen from his apartment. Nothing else was taken, just porn. Sounds like an inside job, no? Weird for a few things. You think $1,000 is a lot of porn!?! Hells bells, no. I may not think that Playboy is porn but I have every issue from 1984 to present plus a lot of 1979 on up. Think about how big a field day the local newspaper would have with someone stealing that.

"Boy cries in front of his home as he realizes all the real and unreal breasts will now only be in his mind. Last seen making obscene chants about his love of hair-pie and big giant nipples from the sky."

Actually, I'd more or less just laugh it off even if I'm planning on selling it all. The best thing is reading about how there are now various discussions on how a person can help keep their porn safe from thieves. Some people (obviously single and lonely), prior to leaving their apartments, now hide everything in their bathtubs. Never mind the jewelry or flat-panel HDTVs. You'll get the porn stash from my cold dead hands, you bastards.

Oh, and, girls, don't laugh. How would you feel if your favorite vibrator, dildo, or shower massager was taken from you? There is only so much you can do with a dog and peanut butter. The really kinky know what I'm talking about.

I don't know about how you react to work's ending. For me, it's a long walk through a giant parking lot just to get to my car. Tonight and many other nights lately, I've felt so empty and wondering if it's anger or tiredness. My back suffers from soreness prior to getting patted down by security. Sometimes, I make them laugh by mentioning how what they are doing is ticklish. Others, I just long for more sun after being in the cloudy darkness on yet another rainy night. Of course, I feel safe, yo. I'm a ninja. No one fucks with a ninja.

So, you'll probably get this. There is a foreign movie called Cash Back that got major good reviews and won some awards. This odd little film has us following an art student recently broken up from his girlfriend and cannot sleep. His possible solution? To work the night shift at a grocery store with some misfits. It's quite funny without that annoying American broken record thing where a famous moron is hired (Jessica Simpson or Dane Cook) to get the usual zombies inhabiting this country to watch.

That catch is that Cash Back has misfits. You know, those weirdos insane enough to work the night shift? One of them just happens to be thought of as a ninja. Seriously. I found myself laughing at how everyone that works at this grocery store is afraid of him. If anyone does get mad and possible fighting will take place, the so called 'ninja' does martial arts moves and everyone leaves him alone. There is something to be said when you see your life on the big screen even if I don't work the night shift.

Trust me. I have worked the night shift in the past and, yes, everyone is a misfit in some way. When you are bored, talk of running up and down the aisles completely nude seems normal.

Anyway, it's almost Wednesday and I don't know what I'll do this weekend. Stay or Indiana? I'm always so tired after work ends that I feel as if I'm no good for Sara. "Zombie-ish" is what I'd call it. I want to be really young again and lose sleep over the drug store's stash of stickers rather than know that work happens.

So, I'm outta here. Sammy, I'll get back to you later after that shocking email. For some reason, everyone just bombarded my inbox tonight. My friends still believe that spam will make them as rich as it says it will. Sleep. I want it now. Happy twats all around.