Roughly about the same time when I was getting into the amateur sex video business, pop sensation Madonna had already freaked people out with her upskirt shot on TV as she rolled around singing “Like a Virgin” and she had already tried her best to freak out the Catholic Church with “Like a Prayer”, her book entitled “Sex” hit the dirty sleazy streets of LA. Even I bought a copy of it knowing that while I wasn’t much of a Madonna fan, being far too busy with my Grateful Dead affinities to invest in her Pop sensibilities, that book was destined to become a collectors item. Why not? Madonna doing high end porn with top models in a limited edition metal covered coffee table book, who wouldn’t want to be titillated by such a thing?

Never one to be vague or beat around her hairy bush as shown in her Penthouse pictorial, “Sex” contained photos that were provocative and titillating but it was sort of inspiring as well. Here was a major public celebrity, basically giving the big thumbs up to expressing herself as a sexual being. Liberating. But, like a slave finally being untied and allowed the gratification of masturbation on his Dom’s feet, it was a relief but not necessarily a rescue from future punishments. Finally, someone was willing to “go there” and (ahem) embrace sexuality as a creative inspiration without ruining it with lame apologies and insincere validations; I applauded her for not making it “Like a Sex Book” but really delivering the goods and showing off some crazy stuff. Cross dressing, peeing, lesbians (everyone loves lipstick lesbians right?) and with a menage-a-try-anything approach, she really stuffed that meaty stuff deep inside the corseted spiral bound covers. However, it was sort of so high concept, strictly staged, and tightly bound to being “artsy” that it essentially lost the down and dirty appeal of being actually sexually inspiring. In fact, it was anything but sexy in a way that would actually motivate a person to actually have sex. Like “voguing” it was all postures and no real play.

That is the same sort of disappointment I had watching her during the Superbowl halftime show. Clearly, there were not going to be any risky wardrobe malfunctions to spice up the night. No perky breasted cheerleaders cavorting in leather and lace cheerleader outfits simulating sex with dancers dressed as jocks in bare butt jockstraps shaking their booties. No kink, no pain, no pleasure, no gain of more yards in the great game of making sex ok in front of bazillions of viewers. Just because you wear the high heeled thigh high black leather boots doesn’t make you sexy enough to be Pussy in boots ready to get down and get off.

Shame. Back to square one. Negative yardage on the play.

Now that I think about it, I can’t find my copy of “Sex” either. Maybe that is lost too, just like Madonna’s sex appeal and willingness to be risque’.

1. Everyone knows that politicians are great at giving you the shaft
2. Caucus – forget what it supposedly means and hear what it actually is saying
3. Pole and poll… Starting to see the connection?
4. Winning an election and getting an erection both feel great until you are prematurely pulled from the office/orifice.
5. Studies show that skirts get shorter when the conservatives take office – so vote republican because fascists will leave nothing to hide
6. Politicians are like whores – you get a say in what they are supposed to do but they probably won’t do it and charge you for it anyway
7. Sex and Politics both have conventions where people flaunt themselves shamelessly
8. Political speeches are like fake orgasms, you don’t believe what you hear but it sounds good at the time so you go along with it for a chance to try again.
9. Sex is like politics because everyone likes to have their say in making things better
10. “Made by the people for the people, Homegrown Video represents the democracy of porn”, according to US News and World Report

1. Prunusphilia, a strange desire to copulate incited by smelling the breath of someone that burps after drinking Dr. Pepper.
2. Mommamalia, the urge to use human breast milk as a lubricant for sexual intercourse with a woman’s breasts
3. Eroticondria, eroticondriacs must maintain being highly aroused in the belief that sexual willingness will prevent them from getting sick
4. Acerophilia, a profound sexual appetite for maple trees, inspired the phrase “go fuck a tree”; remaining Toronto Maple Leaf fans tend to be closet acerphiliacs
5. Spandexaholic, an insatiable desire to watch women in spandex doing work out routines until one can see a discernable sweat spot in the crotch region
6. Ecovagilarianism, a commitment to only eating foods that resemble “a hairy pussy” such as slice of cake with chocolate sprinkles or coconut flakes or a wedge of quiche lorraine
7. Canusilia, when one cannot help but howl like a dog after sexual consummation through intercourse in the so-called “doggy position” and bay at the moon until the sun comes up, thought by scholars to be the origin of the werewolf myth
8. Ambrosiadyxliosis, where one becomes uncontrollably aroused when confronted with a bowl of ambrosia pudding and wishes to perform sexual intercourse with the dessert
9. Rabinnophilia, an intense attraction to the beards of Orthodox Jewish Rabbis which is sometimes characterized by a condition related to Tourette’s Syndrome where a person will suddenly and involuntarily speak obscenely in Yiddish
10. Maxohomegrownvideoitis, where a person suddenly needs to watch every single video from the original amateur porn company, Homegrown Video

Daphne, Homegrown Video

Some folks just absolutely ooze with Homegrown Video’s truest spirit, the unbridled sexuality that pumps life into those homemade sex tapes. For example, when the time came to represent, to stand up, to deliver the goods, Daphne would always go the extra mile to make good great. Whenever she and I shot some amateur porn taking turns running the camera, shooting photos, and that sort of thing, if she became turned on by the action then off would come the clothes and Daphne would be wanting to jump into the middle, usually pulling me by the Johnson to join in the fun.
Once, while I was finishing up shooting a live show from our San Diego studio, Daphne disappeared briefly. I was a little miffed that she was leaving me to deal with everything. You can only imagine what the aftermath of several hours of live sex looks like. Sweaty sheets pulled out of place with a tangle of spent condoms slithering around oozing cum like runny noses drip. There is wet underwear and stinky shoes. The swampy sweet fog of greasy lust permeates and clouds the senses. Don’t get me wrong.
I love it. But….
I just don’t like being the one that has to clean it up. So I called for her. No answer. Where the hell did she take off to? Things were put back in order. The sheets changed, the condoms gingerly coaxed into waste buckets. I was sitting on the bed pausing to enjoy a moment of peace and cleanliness when Daphne stepped in. She had changed into a sexy red gown and put her hair up. She crawled up on the bed and lifted the dress to show off her gorgeous ripe pear of an ass. She looked back at me mischievously. “I want you to fuck my ass” she begged.
I turned back on the live feed. The show would definitely go on.

In terms of automobiles, a car is considered vintage if it was originally sold between the 1920’s and 1930’s. However, when it comes to amateur porn, vintage means it was produced in the 1980’s and is considered “classic” if it was produced in the 90s. As a result, there is really only one company that can lay much claim to actually having authentic vintage amateur porn, and of course that is Homegrown Video.
The 80s were not just the time for big hair and lots of neon lycra, Laura Ashley dresses with big stuffed shoulders and frilly embellishments. The eighties were when amateur porn still had the innocence of being something folks did mostly for fun and frolic rather than trying to make the cut for fortune and fame and be the next Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian. You can tell by the way the bedroom is lit, by the candor and enthusiasm of the people making their first homemade sex tape, this is when making amateur porn was mostly done for the ones making the video and not for any anticipated future audience.
Homegrown Video has been digging deep in its vaults to keep up restoration efforts of this material, which is now approaching 30 years. The goal is to make it all available online, even the stuff that formerly “fell on the cutting room floor” when the scene was originally released back in the day. In that way, Homegrown Video adds becoming historical archives to its resume. Researchers may one day study the changes in sexuality by reviewing how amateur porn has evolved over time. When did women start shaving their bush? Why did anal sex become so popular? How did changes in technology effect the production of homemade sex tapes… all pressing sociological questions demanding intensive, rigorous study at the highest levels of academia.
At Homegrown Video, we are proud to house this collection for the enjoyment of future generations!

Think about the cultural ramming-her-fications of such a space. For once and for all, the wild and wooly, down and dirty, hot and heavy social importance of the porn industry would be firmly and resolutely established. Forever more, the wankers and the spankers would have a place that exalted the objects of their desire in a way that did justice to all their perverse pleasures in a safe, clean, and well stocked with tissues environment.

Almost forgot. There needs to be a wing devoted to biblical sex where all the great begetting and loin springing tales can be brought to life with startling realism and exacting attention to detail. All that Sodom and Gomorrah and Samson and Delia and even that New Testament foot fetish stuff would have to be included. That way tickets could even be sold to the groups of bible thumping protesters that would otherwise be milling about outside could be brought in and charged admission. Everyone knows they are the kinkiest freaks too though so special care would need to be given to making sure that they didn’t freak out the rest of the patrons. Perhaps special flogging utensils need to be provided for the severely penitent and unworthy.

Which also reminds me that the cafeteria better have a catchy name, like “Snatch Bar”.

To all the horny housewives that brought some spark back to the bedroom with a camera and a couple lights

To all the sweet young co-eds looking for a few extra bucks for beer by sending in their sexy antics caught on tape

To all the swingers, and lifestylers, and pan-amorists, and orgy enthusiasts, and gang banging boys and girls that know not only how to have a great time but also how to share it well with others

To the beautiful couple that loves watching porn and wanted to make their own amateur sex video then got the nerve to send it in to us

To all the talk shows, and news programs, magazine articles, and yes, even Paris Hilton and Pamela Anderson, for helping to advertise amateur porn and make it seem perfectly normal to so many others

To all the stripper chicks with big racks and their rock star in their own mind boyfriends that want to show off how wild they get in the sack

To all the amateur studs that still don’t want to take off their socks when they fuck for fear that their cocks will be just as cold as their toes

You all took the chance, made the choice, did the leap, and landed on this side of the tracks where others might see you and judge you and jerk off to you regardless

You have put smiles on faces and inspired others to enjoy life celebrating one simple joy in one trillion orgasms shuddering and rippling out an ever widening smile across the universe

Homegrown Video thanks you

If you ask me, porn is responsible for the pube-less prepubescent look so prevalent in the prurient fashion pretenses of today’s prototype of the usually protean nubile prima donna. The tangles and twists of short and curly pubic hair previously so popular in the public’s eye have predictably been plucked in favor of exposing pretty, puffed, waxed, and pampered pudenda for no better purpose than to be able to purvey what is happening… down there… when the penis is penetrating the pink folds of the labia. Today, Lady Godiva rides out of gates in a palace of perversions for panting Peeping Toms to peruse her particulars and note whether her pussy is particularly shaved, in a shape perhaps, like a point of an arrow, or trimmed to pretend the patch of hair is soft as the fuzz of a peach. Previously, that place where the sex was protected by the thicket of soft thistle providing cover to that most private of places was revered by prurient interests with a propensity of lustful propriety; all hailed the hairiest bush properly. Today, the prim and the prude prance about extolling how propriety requires proper cropping for one to be promoted to perfections of sexual propensity. I say, fuck that, the hairiest bush is just as warm a place to point my proud erections!

You and me plus one

makes three excellent reasons

to fuck our lights out!

Of course, with that first admonishment the first seeds of shame were planted in a sandy soil, the true grit of my soul, and though the roots run deep to nourish from a wellspring of muddy guilt, my libido like a resilient scurrying little hungry for sex rodent burrows in. The landscape is a desert for inspiration but somewhere between the barren patches thorny fruits nourish my craving for something sexual, no matter how brittle and lacking in actual sexuality. A Sears catalog full of tons of crap an eight year old could care less about has just a few pages of brassiere ads offering scant but fulfilling enough nectar to feast my eyes on. Books by Freud offer suggesting tidbits but hide the tastiest morsels in Latin. (Years later I would spend a couple years learning Latin so as to be able to translate those passages… unfortunately I could never find the book again in my parent’s shelves.) Tough times, but I survive and learn to forage furtively.

In the scheme of things, arousal doesn’t necessarily inspire the spirit of courage but it can make one courageously curious on a quest for arousal’s inspiration. This became quite clear to me as I set out to more and more dangerous crags and crevices of the house to find whatever possible scrap where it may lay. Though the prospect of getting caught searching through my parent’s bedroom and their closets was severely unpleasant, the risk would ultimately merit the reward, but not without a few very, very, way too close for comfort close calls.

Of course, whoever thinks “what if… I get caught?”