My Life In Porn

Years ago, old Nazz had a job for about half a decade at one of the world's leading purveyors of "Adult Sophisticate" publications. Yeah, in other words, PORN MAGS.

It was a job, the technology was fantastic (we had every retouching program out available, and the most modern computers) and the pay was good. Missus Nomad, being the good and trusting wife she is, held her tongue and dealt with this career. Besides, it was better than being unemployed.

Much of my job revolved around print quality and retouching the photos. We had some serious talent-- we could make Margaret Thatcher look like Jessica Alba. Whaddya think? Every porn chick has blue eyes and perfect tits?

Anyway, after about 6 years, I moved on to greener, if less vaginarian pastures.

I was reminiscing about the job as it was alot of fun (and NO- I never, I repeat NEVER, strayed off the reservation, despite numerous opportunities) and some crazy shit would happen.

Here's a handful of my favorites:

One of our titles had a feature every month called "Granny's Bisquits" in which we would pair an old woman with some young buck for a disgusting yet compelling pictorial. Nothing is more nausea inducing than retouching color on an 80 year old labia at 9:30 in the morning after a hearty "hangover sandwich" (ie: egg, bacon, cheese on a roll).

--------------------------------------------------------------

One time we used Demi Moore's mom (her name was Virginia and she was as weathered as Keef Richards) as a "subject" in one of our mags and posed her naked with a body painted tux as vanity fair did w/ her daughter and took other nasty pix (like pretending she was pregnant). She was estranged from Demi and apparently in really bad shape and of course we gave her some money and took visual advantage of her. I also remember hearing a couple of years later how she killed herself. Oops.

--------------------------------------------------------------
Our Christmas parties were legendary. One year, one of our editors brought his kick-ass blues band to play in our offices. Add to this mix: open bar, copious amounts of drugs and porn chicks. At one point two girls went at each other rather lustily in Sapphic throes right in front of the band. To the bands credit, they never stopped playing. That was also the party in which, while I was sitting in my office, having a holiday dram of Rebel Yell, a naked girl wandered into my office and offered to take "a load off my mind". I politely refused. What an idiot I was!

Have a swell weekend everyone!