The Porter Mason Writing Blog

A Bit About Sex Acts

My problem with the words “blowjob” and “handjob” and “footjob” and “armpitjob” is the suffix “-job” there at the end.

I think men are branding these things all wrong. We don’t want women to think of sex as work. Sex should be a pleasurable thing!

Sex should be something you look forward to! Something you can’t wait to do! Something you agree to without two hours of well-reasoned Powerpoint-supported arguing on my part!

So I recommend we start calling it a “blowvacation” and a “handlazysatrudayafternoon” and an “armpitwellplannedretirementparty”.

“Armpitjobs” I recommend we stop asking for altogether because they are deviant and weird. Though my Powerpoint does make a lot of salient points in their favor.

A Bit About the Softball Team

Todd, you gotta understand, I don’t care why you were late, that you were late at all shows me that this softball team is not important to you.

Great, you’re a “doctor”. Guess what? I have a job, too. I’m a freelance copywriter for Abercrombie catalogs. But guess what else, when Fall deadline time comes, I don’t let it affect my performance on the team.

So whine all you want about this “devastating wildfire”, and impress us all you like with how many “lives” you saved, but there’s ten lives on this team you didn’t save. And these ten people will now never know what it feels like to reach the quarterfinals of the Silverlake community softball tournament.

So I hope all those strangers you saved will hang out with you on Saturday afternoons from now on. Because you’re off the team, Todd. You’re off the team until such time as you can prove to us you really care about the team.

Oh, but before you leave we all need medical marijuana prescriptions.

A Bit About Horse Racing

Horse racing is fun, but only if you can run really really fast.

A Bit About Dancing

Look, you can’t be self-conscious.

You gotta dance like no one’s watching.

Because no one is.

Because you are a terrible dancer.

Because you’re too self-conscious.

It’s a vicious circle.

But it is also a dance circle.

And no one wants to see you in the middle.

A Bit About Playboy

I do subscribe to Playboy, but I really just get it for the articles.

Which I masturbate to.

A Bit About Pro Wrestling

I was watching some WWE the other day, and my friend told me that professional wrestling is fake, which just blew my mind because I had no idea marionette technology had gotten that advanced.

He then told me that the wrestlers themselves were real, though the matches were fixed. But if these marionettes can be so realistic and life-like, who’s to say my friend himself hadn’t been replaced by an elaborate WWE puppet?

So I hacked him up with an ax and burned his pieces to see if he was made of wood.

Happily, he was not!

So, wrestling is real. My annoying chatty friend is dead. And I can finally watch Smackdown in peace.

A Bit About Government Operatives

When I tell my friends I am a super-important secret operative for the US government, they just never seem to believe me.

I am, in fact, a super-important secret operative.

Though I work for the North Korean government.

So actually, my friends are really on the ball.

I will kill them last.

A Bit About West Side Story

If I had been in West Side Story, I’d probably be opt out of being in either the Sharks or the Jets and instead start a new gang called the Shark Jets whose members would be actual sharks in actual jets! Yeah!

Sadly, West Side Story is fictional, so I’ll never get to create my army of seawater-filled F-15s piloted by super-intelligent Maco sharks.

And this moment is what historians of the future will call: The Death of the Last Great American Dream.

A Bit About Some Novel Beginnings

I’d love to write a novel, but I just got Super Mario Bros. Wii, so I don’t have all kinds of time.

But… I’ve got a bunch of great beginnings of novels, and they’re burning a hole in my headpocket, so I figured, “I’ll post them here, and people can finish the novels for me.” It’s called “crowdsourcing”, and it’s the future… the future of you!

So, here’re some great beginnings to novels:

She wore a red dress. But not all the time.

This is great because you’ve already got a main character, and she’s a lady. (Sexy!) But I’ve really left it open for you in terms of who she is and what she wears.

Plus, I think this novel is destined to have some great symbolism. Red is a great color for symbolism. (e.g. blood is red, but so are apples, so this dress could work as a symbol for either!)

Next:

You call that krumpin’? That ain’ krumpin’. I’ll tell ya what krumpin’ is.

I’d love to read this novel because I have no idea what krumpin’ is. But I’d love to find out! Sadly, most information about krumpin’ is either hidden within the lyrics of “rap” music (which I don’t listen to for fear of becoming a reverse racist) or on the Internet (which I do not read due to a longstanding bet with a college friend).

But I love novels! I read a novel or two every day. Three on a bad day. (I use novels to stave off depression.) So whoever writes this one, let me know the Amazon page for it because I will be customer number one!

Also, this novel will be written in “dialect”, which means you use a lot of punctuation and write like real people talk. Most books are written how smart people talk: lots of big words like “sensibility” and “whom”. But this book will be much easier for you to write because you don’t have to always be looking into a thesaurus for every utterance. ( <– means "word")

And finally:

This sentence is also the last sentence of this novel.

Whoa whoa whoa! I’ve just given someone a post-modern masterpiece to write! I mean, how crazy is that sentence? I guarantee this novel will get good reviews. Smart people love art that confuses them or that “breaks rules”. This novel will do both!

I mean, the novel itself is self-aware that it is a novel. Smart people love things that are self-aware. Except for self-aware robots. Warning: DO NOT MAKE THIS NOVEL ABOUT ROBOTS. Smart people hate books about robots. I assume because one day the work of most smart people will be done by robots. Whatever it is, just don’t get in the middle of the smart people/robot feud.

But back to the not-making-sense quality of this novel, this novel is guaranteed to make little to no sense. I mean, the last sentence of the book will be, “This sentence is also the last sentence of this novel.” That doesn’t even make remote sense! Smart people will go apeshit. Basically, were he not dead by his own hand, David Foster Wallace would have already vomited out this masterpiece. But now you can be the vomiter!

So there you are, the next three Great American Novels, to whom it may concern. ( <– Eat it up, smart people!)

P.S. Craig, just because I posted this on the Internet does not mean I read anything on the Internet while I did that, so the bet is still on, mutha-effah!

A Bit About the Aliens Watching Us

If I could say one thing to the aliens from other planets who are surely monitoring our every move, I would say:

What do you think of this “Pants on the Ground” guy? He’s wild, right?

Because I bet they’d just have a really interesting perspective on that.

I would also maybe probably ask about that mole on my back since I can rarely get a good angle to see it, and I’m supposed to notify my dermatologist if it starts looking weird.

But maybe I’d forget the mole thing because I’d hate to trouble them with trivial stuff.