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Girl Reporter's Porn Report: Vintage Porn

In an effort to inform myself, and others like me, who might not have the extensive porn knowledge of those who have been watching filth for longer than I've been alive, I decided to travel back to the roots of contemporary erotica by delving into a...

Young people like myself get a lot of flack these days for having our heads up our asses (no, this week's theme isn't going where you think it's going). We're too busy playing Angry Words with Bird Friends on our iPad Nanos to watch all four hours of Gone with the Wind just because Vivien Leigh gave Grandma her first "confusing stirring" in her "love purse."

In an effort to inform myself, and others like me, who might not have the extensive porn knowledge of those who have been watching filth for longer than I've been alive, I decided to travel back to the roots of contemporary erotica by delving into a few vintage clips, and God damn, were those roots unkempt.

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Word of warning: If you're tempted to research what any of these former smut starlets look like today, just…don't.

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Alice in Wonderland: An X-Rated Musical Comedy

When was the last time you sat and watched 78 minutes of something? I don't mean streaming a few pirated episodes of The Newsroom in one tab with Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, and that OKCupid profile you pretend you don't have in the others. I'm talking full, undivided attention typically reserved for iTunes visualizers half an hour after choking down a handful of mushrooms.

Well guess the fuck what. I just spent 78 minutes riveted, entertained, and (dare I say?) tickled by porn. And I'm not even embarrassed.

Although, I wouldn't exactly describe Alice in Wonderland: An X-Rated Musical Comedy as a "porno." More so, it's a feature-length spoof with pretty damn decent production value, and every once in a while—every so often—some people happen to get their fuck on. But such is life.

Just about every aspect of Alice boasts an impressive level of professionalism, from the writing to the direction, the costumes to the original score and musical numbers, and even the acting. How many Mad Hatters have you seen who can perfectly stay in character while getting their peep slobbered on? Probably not a whole lot.

Verdict: I would rather watch this movie every day for the rest of my life than ever subject myself to anything starring Channing Tatum (a cinderblock with googly eyes and painted-on abs does not a movie star make, Hollywood). I would 100 percent show this to my kids if I were raising them somewhere just a wee bit on the debased side, like a hippie commune, or France.
NB: If you're a French person reading a translated version of this article, thanks for being the world's "cool parents."

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A Classic Restaurant Scene with Blowjobs and Sex

The other day, I was at the gym watching the Sex and the City movie while on the elliptical machine because I hate myself. Have you ever seen the Sex and the City movie? It's basically a few scenes of simulated sex, a few scenes of the redhead being depressed that no one loves her because she's boring and homely, and a lot a lot a LOT of scenes of terrible people eating and drinking at amazing restaurants. This vintage clip takes all of those things and smashes them together into a 20-minute-long video. Efficient!

The "narrative" at play is that some prim and proper broad (who we learn is a famous author) is being interviewed about her work over lunch at a fancy restaurant. But this isn't just any restaurant; this is a fucking restaurant. Instead of the soup or salad, patrons can chow down on tuna taco or have a suited waiter stoically jerk it onto a bed of lettuce. At one point, after a third lady is seated at the table, our subject informs her, "I already ordered for you." What she really should have said was "HEY WATCH OUT THAT GUY JIZZED IN YOUR SALAD THIS PLACE IS MADNESS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHY DO WE KEEP COMING HERE???"

Mostly, what I want to know is who decided that this was an appropriate locale for an interview? I'm not even talking about the fact that this is the one restaurant where the soup of the day is a hot load to the face; I just mean that it would be unbelievably distracting. Anyone who's ever conducted an interview knows that it's difficult enough to focus as some discarded byproduct of the fame machine waxes philosophical about "artistic integrity" without having to deal with actual P in V penetration happening to your immediate left.

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Verdict: Zagat gives it an A++, Department of Health and Sanitation gives it a Negative F-million. Talk about "ladies who lunch!" (is the obligatory joke here…)

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She Loves Her Cream of Wheat

If you read my last column or you just happen to watch a lot of porn, you're probably thinking that, based on the title, this is going to be a creampie video of some sort. To that, I say this: You are vastly underestimating the depravity of the Internet, friend!

There isn't a great deal I can (or want) to say about this clip, so I'm just going to give you a very basic rundown to the best of my abilities:

A half-naked woman is making Cream of Wheat, which she apparently loves. We know this because, 20 seconds into the video, she declares, "Mmm, I love Cream of Wheat." Anyway. She then hears a man's voice in her kitchen and whips around to find not a man, but a GIANT BOX OF CREAM OF WHEAT COME TO LIFE. Naturally, as with any situation where your home intruder is actually anthropomorphized package of breakfast porridge, she proceeds to blow him (yes, the box has a dick, sorry if that wasn't clear).

The duo is then joined by yet another home intruder: a piece of toast wearing COOL-ASS SUNGLASSES and playing a SMOKING-HOT SAX SOLO. No one seems to mind. Hey, it's only weird if you make it weird, bro.

Verdict: This clip is only four minutes long, and you should probably just watch it so you'll have something to impress and confound your friends with the next time you get wasted and make the mistake of pulling out your laptop. Also, nobody loves Cream of Wheat. Nobody.

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What makes you hot? What makes you cringe? What have you made yourself? Send me your filth!

Sasha.Hecht@vice.com

VICE Magazine
C/O Sasha Hecht
97 N 10th St. Suite 204
Brooklyn, NY 11211

@sashahecht

Previously: Girl Reporter's Porn Report #1