8.05.2005

Porn in the Woods

When you were a kid, did you happen to find porn in the woods? That's the question asked by metafilter.

Coindidentally, me and all my friends did, in fact, find porn in the woods. We constructed a fort around it, with hidden entrances and tunnels (through the weeds) and rules about who could come and go and what could happen when. Basically, we turned our Porn in the Woods stash into the queen bee around which our little, twelve-year-old-boy society buzzed.

So anyway, Metafilter asks the question: did you find porn in the woods? And a surprising amount of people seem to be saying Yes. What was this? A government experiment? The Hustler and Oui rural street team at work? I don't want to look a gift, uh, make up your own euphemism here, in the mouth, but seriously, what was going on there?

Did you find porn in the woods?

4 comments:

aaron said...

By Guccione, I believe my friends and I did find porn in the woods once, when we were aged 13 or 14!

I wonder if this phenomenon can be explained through either the "seed" or the "spore" theories of dispersion...if not, we may finally have a piece of evidence that conflicts with the Theory of Evolution...I mean, what could a 200 page glossy with dirty pictures possibly evolve from?

TMC said...

We brought our own porn in the woods, which means, I assume, that you bastards were stealing our porn.

We also built a porn shack with allk inds of stupid 12-year old boy rules about entering, etc. That died off when most of my friends became more interested in smoking, talking about smoking, and looking cool while smoking. And then we almost burned the whole forest down when one of them assumed that any tube of paper could be smoked for pleasure, and a whole newspaper caught fire.

Never went back.

Dan said...

I've found porn in the woods, on my car windshield, in an old amplifier, and in the music room of my Catholic grammer school. I agree with Aaron that it might be spreading through spores, or perhaps spontaneous generation. It's like Paris Hilton, you never know where its going to pop up flashing vagina everywhere next.

Kistulentz said...

Yes, yes a thousand times yes. Actually maybe like three times, but still.

Whenever I am back in the area northern Virginia carpark that I used to call home, I often find myself doing a sort of cruising through the old neighborhoods. This is frequently to the accompaniment of some horrendous-to-average album from 1985 that I have recently paid way too much money to some geek on Ebay so that I can have it on CD (see The Plimsouls "Everywhere at Once," or anything by the Thompson Twins).

To paraphrase a poem, often I am permitted to return to a man-made stock pond that I will forever recall as being directly behind the house of Laurie Brattain, a gymnast who will perpetually be 13, a girl who sported a rainbow coalition of rubber bands on her braces, a girl who once responded with a mere snort when I asked her to go with me in the sixth grade, yet capitulated to my pressures a year later (I assume this was because I was safely enrolled in another school and thus no longer a social liability).

Therefore, the plot is this--I would walk the nearly 2 miles to Laurie's house, down Burke Lake Road, cut through the parking lot of the Kings Park Public Library and an office building rumored to be owned by a real estate investment trust whose partners included Muhammad Ali. Through the adjacent woods that always smelled of gasoline and the oven exhaust from Pizza Baezzano. To the aforementioned stock pond.

In the tall grass that grew unkempt near the edge of the algae-riddled pond, my toes dislodged a box containing four copies of Hustler magazine. Four.

I took one home. I left the others there, at pond's edge, an offering of thanks for my bounty.