I Love Technology
My grandfather died before the video. He would have loved the video. He was a dirty old man. The first movie and the last movie we watched as a family was The Hills Have Eyes. After that movie my parents never used the video. It sat under the television, a piece of superfluous furniture; they owned a lot of superfluous furniture. I used the video. I used it when my mother and father went to bed. I would sneak down and turn on the television, and mute the sound. When we got the video I joined a very exclusive group. This clandestine group dealt in goods more precise than gold, silver, car radios, drugs, it was a group based upon the exchange of pornographic movies. Admittance was only granted if you had a video, much like those billionaire clubs you hear about. If you were lucky and you had a video tape showing the art work of John Holmes, Aunt Peg, Harry Reems, John Leslie, Ron Jeremy, Peter North, Linda Lovelace, Marilyn Chambers, Annie Sprinkle, and Lisa DeLeeuw you were treated like royalty by all those that wanted to get their mitts on the video tape. In a moment of madness I slipped my penis into the aperture of the video and filled it up with my jism. My parents had gone away for the weekend. Hearing Aunt Peg’s voice for the first time sent me wild, crazy with lust. When my parents returned I told them that the dog had urinated on the thing. They got rid of the dog and bought a new video. They had to keep up with the neighbors.
Paul Kavanagh’s ‘The Killing of a Bank Manager‘ is out now, priced £7.99/$12.99.