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LONDON - SURFING PORN FOR PAY

Downloading indecent images is once again in the news. Thing is, you can't just google that shit. You really have to dig for it on creepy messageboards. But isn't it weird how everyone who is charged says they were doing "research"? Well here's a true story of a guy who actually did it "professionally":

"Surfing for hardcore porn was my job. Well, porn was just part of it. I signed a non-disclosure agreement, so I'm legally bound not to go into specific details about my employers. All I can say is that the job was part of a wider 'sort through' of thousands of UK websites looking for "unsuitable and illegal material"…

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On my first day at work my boss handed me a print-out that read:

UNSUITABLE & ILLEGAL MATERIAL:
Erect penises / Penetrative sex (with any implement) / Oral sex / Faecal sex / Bondage and torture / Injury/fatality sites / Violent acts to human beings or animals / Hate sites (Nazi, racial vilification, personal attack, etc) / Child pornography / Rape / Bestiality / How to make a bomb / How to make drugs / Hacking

We had to find this stuff and report it. My hours were 3pm to 11pm. Our kindly manager laid on cold beer every day - on Friday nights he even bought us pizza … So here I am sitting at work, munching pizza, sipping on a brewski, surfing for hardcore porn and getting paid cash-in-hand to do it! Was this the bestest job in the world?

No it wasn't. After just a couple of excruciating 8-hour shifts sifting through thousands of websites, my euphoria faded rapidly. Surfing porn for pay became monotonous. It became just like a regular job.

I spent hours staring deadpan at a computer screen, looking at all the nasty stuff that people put online. Through continuous clicking I entered a trance of indifference. Shocking images lost their shock value. The provocative became routine. Sex did nothing for me. Cumshots, day in, day out. Snuff-pix = BO-OORING!

Don't get me wrong though, it wasn't like looking at all this stuff didn't affect me. The job began to take its toll on my wellbeing. I sat at my workstation, bloated from the laid-on pizza and nauseous from the mix of beer and prolonged screen-staring. Worst of all, I was daydreaming about gang-rape and murder. I couldn't sleep at night due to the sickening slideshow flashing before my closed eyes: chicks with dicks, mutilated faces …

I quit.

C.O. JONES