Then a paper called Willamette Week came along. Willamette Week wanted to attract hip, young readers like you, Portland, and hip, young readers like you don't like their tired, old paper. But you did like my sex-advice column, so the editors of Willamette Week started licking my ass--and you do remember how much I like to have my ass licked, right? They offered me more money, more readers, and drugs--lots and lots of drugs.
What can I say? I was weak, I was human. I yanked my column from PDXS and went home with editors of Willamette Week. I thought we were going to make beautiful love, but do you know what happened? Willamette Week fucked me. And fucked you, too, Portland.
After talking me into pulling my column from PDXS, after making a big fuss (running ads on newspaper boxes, inside papers, and on buses), Willamette Week only ran Savage Love for four weeks. Then Willamette Week's editors called me and said, "Ooooh, Mr. Savage, we didn't realize your column was soooooo naughty! Ooooh, one old granny called to complain! She thinks you use baaaaad words. Ooooh, we're soooooo scared! Ooooh, we messed ourselves!" And then do you know what they did? They DROPPED MY COLUMN!
Because one old granny called to complain! Can you believe it?! Yeah, Portland, we had a good thing goin' on--until those fucks at Willamette Week came between us. Well, I'm back now and lemme tell you something, Portland, I'm going to make it up to you, I swear. It's gonna be like old times between us, you'll see.
But first, there's something I wanna say to that old granny who thought my column was too offensive for Willamette Week: You're right, my column is too offensive for that chicken-shit paper. Way too offensive.
Hell, M*A*S*H re-runs are too offensive for Willamette Week. And as for my language, well, all I can say is FUCK FUCK FUCK. FUCKERS FUCKING FUCKED UP FUCK-FUCKERS! FUCK ME, FUCK YOU, FUCK OFF. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. What's that, granny? Your hearing aid was turned off? Well, lemme repeat it for you: FUCK FUCK FUCK. FUCKERS FUCKING FUCKED UP FUCK-FUCKERS! FUCK ME, FUCK YOU, FUCK OFF. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. What's that? You gotta problem with that kinda language, granny? Well, there's a middle-of-the-road, drooling, incontinent, piece-of-crap weekly paper just for you, granny, and it's called Willamette Week. The Portland Mercury ain't for you, granny, so beat it before you have a stroke.
And, finally, before we do the nasty, Portland, there's something I want to say to that pansy-assed, geriatric-butt-kissing chickenshit who runs Willamette Week: PORTLAND IS MINE. Get your hands off her knee, you slimy bastard, because you never loved Portland, not the way I love Portland.
Portland and I were made for each other. We love each other. You? You only love money and that one granny and the smell of your own goddam gas. You don't deserve Portland, and, as God as my witness, I intend to take Portland away from you.
Okay, let's get to the questions...
For the last eight years, I've been videotaping myself while naked and jacking off solo. Here's the problem: I'm 21 now, and don't know what to do with these old vids of myself. I've been called really cute by many people and since the wallet is low, can I sell them? Do they check the age? I'm old enough now, but could I just say I was over 18 the whole time they were being made? What would you recommend a guy in my shoes do?
The tapes you made of yourself before you turned 18 are, technically, child pornography. While it is illegal to possess, produce, or distribute child pornography, the fact that you made these tapes of yourself masturbating sent me scurrying off to a guest expert. While it's illegal for a 21 year-old to own a videotape of a 13 year-old masturbating, I wasn't sure it would be illegal for a 21 year-old to own a videotape of himself masturbating at 13. I mean, would a kid who took a nude Polaroid of himself wind up in jail?
"No, he wouldn't," our guest expert assured me. A criminal prosecutor who's put a few child pornographers in jail, our guest expert did not wish to be identified. We'll call her Helen, after rail-thin D.A. Helen Gamble on ABC's The Practice. "Possessing these tapes is not against the law--for him," Helen explained. "Certainly selling them would be illegal. It would also be illegal for a minor to make tapes of himself with intent to sell them," meaning it's illegal for children to produce child pornography. "But making these tapes for his own pleasure? That's not illegal."
Could you lie about your age and sell tapes that you made when you were, say, 14 years-old, claiming you were actually 18 at the time? Maybe, but if you have a run-in with the law, police and prosecutors won't just take your word for how old you were when the tape was made. "Pediatric social workers and physicians review this kind of material, and by looking at things like bone development and secondary sexual characteristics, they can pretty closely determine the age range of the person in the tapes."
Finally, consider this: Once upon a time, a person could do a porno or pose naked for a magazine with some assurance that, sooner or later, the pics would be out of circulation. Not anymore. Porn lives forever on-line, each pic being endlessly copied and posted. If you do decide to sell those tapes, be prepared for your grandkids to find your nekkid ass on-line someday.
I am a 24 year-old breeder female who can't figure out what to call a turn-on of mine. If his dick and balls brush against my feet when my boyfriend goes down on me, I go insane with desire! Would this be considered a "foot fetish"? Or does a foot fetish require being turned on by feet themselves? Define this quirk of mine!
The American Heritage Dictionary defines fetish as "a material object or non-sexual part of the body that arouses sexual desire and may become necessary for sexual gratification.... an abnormally obsessive preoccupation or attachment." By American Heritage Dictionary's standards, SF, you're no foot fetishist. You aren't obsessed with your boyfriend's feet or your own, and your boyfriend's cock is definitely a sexual part of his body. You enjoy a specific activity--his cock rubbing your feet while he eats your pussy--which is more circumstance or position than fetish.
I'll never leave you again, Portland, my darling... so write me at: firstname.lastname@example.org.