Porn stars, Paul McKenna and me or how I learned to stop procrastinating and love the blog.

Saved By The Bell, David Lynch-styleee

One of the more interesting aspects of much-maligned but ultimately harmless Twitter (sorry to bring it up again..) is 'following' hardcore porno stars like Bella Donna and Sasha Grey.
Their twatters (titter titter, fnar fnar) were featured in a Sunday paper a few weeks ago and so I naturally signed up as quickly as I could. Where would I be without research, eh?
Essentially, they use Twitter to promote various DVDs and shows but to give you a taste of what kind of output (careful..)they are producing (....) this is basically it:

10am : Woke up, still sleepy, need a frappuccino

12:15: Can't believe my dog is soooo cute LOL. He's the best you guys.

3.27: Arrived at work and haven't even had dinner yet. Real hungry.

4.24: Wow, Aiden's cock is sooo massive and I had three in my ass 5 minutes ago!!

6:17: Time for home again and ice-cream.Yummy.

It's the equivalent of watching that part in Fight Club where Brad inserts(crikey) the Johnson into the kids' film.
It can also be highly amusing as other Twitterers pop up saying the usual daily twattery things and then up pops a reference to girl-on-girl dildo action and a conveniently attached pic.
Not for the office at all at all - unless you work in a porn office.
If there is such a thing.
Probably not an office you'd want to see a stapler or ring-binder in.

Now, I have a treat for you. No-one can resist the mid-Atlantic tones of new media's favourite bespectacled huckster, Paul McKenna, so check out the top dollar creepiness factor on this recording of his, which I found on some Torrent site, that is meant to boost self-confidence. I couldn't resist it. My confidence was at a dangerously low 99.7% and needed topping up. And I figured it would be hilariously deranged.
If you don't need a red hot shower immediately after hearing any portion of this, you officially have the platelet-count of a paedophile or some ilk of deranged sex-offender and you should frog-march yourself directly to the nearest Garda station, strip naked, douse yourself in Tesco own-brand voddy and light a match.
He even layers his voice at one stage and creates a trippy 'McKenna all over your ears' effect. Horrid. I promise not to do this to you again. And by that I mean I will seek out new ones as often as possible, gradually replacing the recordings with my own voice and gathering together an army of blogger 'sleepers' ready to do my bidding the moment I use the trigger-word. The task would most likely involve murder and VIP magazine in some way. Or making me an omelette with especially strong cheese.

Paul McKenna - How to be creeped out in the most heinous way

I'm off to listen to a bit of Bonnie Prince Billy's Beware (available from Drag City here to pre-order). More on that again. Now...sit back and relaaaaax. Let my voice sooooooothe you......