I’ve been big lately on psychology and our upbringing, and the way it relates to porn, although I never really studied psych in school – besides the obligatory Psych 101. Anyway, I’m always looking for ties to why people do what they do. Cause we live in a crazy world. And it all comes back to what happened to us when we were young.

As it relates to porn? Well, I’ll get to that…but this goes not only for the talent in my business, but for what you and I look for when we look at porn as consumers.

See, I’m a big fan of facials, and lately, I think I know why. And before that, for a very short time and a very long time ago, I was a huge fan of lesbians…again, I think I know why.

I’ll start with the lesbian thing first: it’s 1977, and I’m in 7th grade, and about 3 blocks away from where I was living then, lay the desert. The wide open, rattlesnakes and scorpions, desert. Now it’s a strip mall, but then, you could find a horny toad, a scorpion, and a rattlesnake if you turned over the three closest rocks.

We also found a pile of stroke mags once, under a Palo Verde tree, and as secretly as possible, we hustled them back to our fort. What a haul! It was better than sunken treasure: tons of Oui, Playboy, Penthouse, and the very best of the lot – Hustler. What filth! And it was in that pile o’ gold I saw my first pics of girl-on-girl sex, and it made my head spin.

Our fort turned into a lending library for all the boys in the neighborhood.

I couldn’t think of anything else for the next, say, 2 years. On the way to school, it was all about girls licking each other’s boobies. I’d be in Mr. Boswell’s algebra class, thinking about girls making out. In PE class, girls licking each other’s vaginas. After school, I’d race to the fort and grab something off the circulation desk – usually a Hustler – and head home and beat my meat until I couldn’t anymore. Or, until it was time for dinner. Usually while listening to Boston’s first record, or Frampton Comes Alive.

Things all changed in 9th grade. I was 14. My pal Biff had an older brother, Todd. Todd was going to be a senior in high school. We all looked up to Todd, for various reasons, the biggest being his library of Swedish Erotica. Super 8 films. And the literature/pamphlets that went along with them. Add to that their dad’s super 8 projector, and after school Biff’s house was a stag party. Better than a Friday night at the local VFW Hall.

John Holmes was The King. Seka, The Queen. Then there was Sharon Mitchell. Ron Jeremy. Aunt Peg. And various actors and actresses you’d see once, and never see again. Kinda like now.

The super 8 shorts didn’t have much of a plot, lasted less than 10 minutes, and I think Todd had maybe four of them. Five tops. And while they were watching the movies, I’d have to “take a piss” and I’d grab one of the pamphlets, and it was there I saw, for the first time, a picture of a girl getting a facial.

My lord! What in the world? It made my head spin. Obviously more than the lesbians. And sometimes, I don’t think my head stopped spinning…until I started making dirty movies. (Feel “addicted” to porn? Just become a director, my friend. You’ll be instantly cured.)

It’s the reason why I had my hand in creating sites like Spunkmouth and Jizz On My Glasses. It’s the reason why I rented Peter North movies, when I rented porn. And even though interracial sex fiends love to see cream pie endings to their favorite films, I usually opt out for the facial when I’m in the director’s seat. It’s not about the humiliation factor, either, although I know that’s what pushes a lot buttons for most dudes; to me, it’s just about seeing something sexy that isn’t natural, I suppose. Just like lesbos.

Sometimes, I wonder what happened to poor Rob Black and Max Hardcore when they were growing up…