Posts Tagged ‘panda bears’

I think we all know somebody that has done porn. They’re not always “porn stars” or anything. A porn star is an elite member of the porn community. I don’t know what the official hierarchy is, but I would think it goes something like this.

STAR

WHORE

ROOKIE

We know who the stars are. It’s those familiar names that we pledge our allegiance to and own coasters with images of their genitals on them. Ron Jeremy is the most famous porn star of all-time. I wonder if he’s ever kissed anyone. Nobody wants to kiss Ron Jeremy. His mustache tastes like his own cock. Good for him though. He’s famous for being fat, ugly, hairy, strange, having a bad haircut, and for having a big dick. Can you believe that? In a society without a true bartering system, where we have all come to accept that paper money is the acceptable currency, which is produced by the government, a man can still be a millionaire for having a large penis. That’s all he can do. If Ron Jeremy ever says “Just be yourself” I will put his dick in a headlock and break its neck. Easy for you to say Ron. Not all of us are blessed with gigantic devilish curses.

(Ron Jeremy getting pampered on the set of his famous film “Jeremy and the Hendersons”)

Next down on the list are the whores. They’re the mid-level people. Usually you would have heard of them through a friend. They’re a name, but still not a full-blown star. I guess you can’t have a rubber pussy made to your likeness to be considered a whore. By then you’d have to be a star. Unless sales are bad. How many people buy these rubber pussies anyway? There can’t be that many lonely people in the world. Like 7 billion of us now and you can’t find another human being to do those filthy things to in the corner of your kitchen? Join a book club! Whores are probably the best porn actresses. Did I just call people who do porn actresses? That’s an insult to Robert DeNiro, Robert Redford, and Robert Pattinson. Maybe just the first two. I like whores because they got something to prove still. They’ve learned the ropes, but they still got further to go. They’re hungry for more. OHHHH MOOOOORE!

(Not a whore, just a bad actor)

Finally we get to the rookies. We all know what a rookie is. It’s the lowest level of anything you can do. No matter what your profession, you will experience rookie hazing. It might be light, like having to stick pine cones up your butt. Or maybe it’ll be heavier, having to eat a pair of edible underwear off a fat man. Don’t be embarrassed, we’ve all done it. Rookies sometimes always stay rookies. They have a few notable roles, but then retire to do classier things like change tires for a living. I like rookies too. You can always find a rookie who reminds you of someone unobtainable in your every day life. They’re the girls next door. Maybe they’ve got a little more of an edge, like a tattoo or fake purple hair. But still, they’ve got something. You can see yourself having a conversation with this porno “actress” about how the landlord is a douche bag. That’s why amateur porn is so big. SOOOOOO BIIIIIIG. We don’t care about the porn stars anymore. We want flesh blood. We’re perverts like that.

(The last triple crown winner…in baseball. The porn triple crown is much different)

I don’t know if it’s the same with girls. Most guys in porn look the same. Guys really are either Ron Jeremy, John Holmes, that black guy with Steele in his name (like that I’m pretending not to know his name?), and maybe a few others. Girls don’t look at porn much. I don’t blame them. Look, another big dick. There are too many buff guys in porn too. That’s got to get repetitive. Porn needs more boys next door. Skinny guys with big guts and no muscles with average sized penises. They’re not very tall and don’t comb their hair. There’s a market for everything. Maybe I can create it. A psychic did once tell my sister that I would grow up to be an inventor. Psychics are always right. Now to just find some wayward teens in need of cash. Shouldn’t be too hard. TOOOOO HAAAAARD.

 

“Hello. My name is Tim Boyle.”

That’s how none of my conversations ever start. They probably should start that way, but they don’t. I’m too awkward for that. Most of my conversations with strangers start with me judging them on a physical flaw. I’ll nod and hope I never have to see them again. I usually get my way.

Tim isn’t a bad first name. It’s not as great as Deacon, Lexington, Jackson, or something else that makes me sound like a gay biker. I’ve never been made fun of for my name. That’s a good thing. I’ve known people that have been. Any bit of cleverness has to come from my last name. I had a teacher call me Tim “Hard” Boyle “’d Egg.” It got a lot of laughs from the 6th grade class. I had a rough year.

There isn’t anything too heinous that could relate to my last name that would be plain offensive. I guess if I had been boiled alive that could offend me. At that point, why would I care? I survived being mixed in a giant black pot by cannibals. Everything after that is cake because they didn’t have the opportunity to turn me into cake.

Little known fact: Cannibals love cake!

I’m not positive about the meaning of either of my names. My mom told me that Timothy means “honoring God.” I used to live up to my name, but my interpretation of the name God is “being there for those in need.” There are about a dozen commercials with malnourished children and battered women who think that he needs to work on living up to his name as well.

From what I know about my last name, there is a city in Ireland called O’Boyle, or so I was told. I’ve never found any evidence to back it up. I had the opportunity to talk to three people from Ireland once and they had never heard of the city. Someone lied to me. But does it really matter where the name came from? It’s still mine and doesn’t change who I am. Unless it means “cocksucking ape” in Gaelic which I doubt it because there are few apes in Ireland.

Sometimes people share my name. Tim is pretty common of a name. There’s Tim Allen who had a hit sitcom with Home Improvement. There’s Timothy McVeigh who blew up a building with children in it. There’s that fiction writer Timothy who worked on The Bible. Tims have a reputation for being successful. We rarely fail. Ask Timothy Dalton. Oh wait you can’t because he’s too busy racing dune buggies in his giant mansion!

My last name is also shared. Susan Boyle unfortunately being the most famous. She’s that fat mess that was popular 2 years ago. Here’s a picture my friend made of me on her album cover:

 

 

 

 

 

 

Other people have the last name Boyle. Nobody that’s ever accomplished much. The owner of Columbia Sportswear shares my exact name. I tried to get discounts but they refused because he’s a jerk. That actually never happened. He still is a jerk though. He should share the wealth with his namesake. He hogs it all with his mother Gert. Now that’s a terrible name. It sounds like a type of growth on the bottom of a foot. Irish people aren’t good at much, especially giving out names.

Overall, I don’t mind my names. Eventually I plan on changing my name to Timo Theebole to fool people into thinking I am ethnic, thus getting hired faster or not at all, depending on the company policies. The beauty of it is that if you say it fast enough, it’s pronounced the same as Timothy Boyle, my birth certificate name. I could be crazy in doing that and by then there will be a huge backlash against affirmative action. Until then I’ll stick with the names I was given at birth.