Pornstar

I posted an image yesterday, to Twitter and to Facebook: ironic, sarcastic, call it what you will - a take on the trend to post words designed to both highlight injustice and put it right at the same time. Or expressing one’s individuality by choosing something funny from a preprepared list of names. And all without needing to exercise one’s scrolling digit. Instant gratification.

The words from MY image:

“Get your porn name by changing your name to that of your favourite porn star.”

And later, on Twitter, I was asked a simple question:

“What would yours be?”

Thanks Neil! A very good question, very good indeed. A question to expose one’s interests, proclivities, inadequacies, you know, those private things one simply doesn’t talk about except with close friends. Very close friends.

So, a dilemma. Do I write any further?

Of course I do!

At this point I could be forgiven for writing about:

Innocuous stuff, you’d think, but nonetheless addictive if one allows it. But no, I’m not going to write about those.

I’m about to launch into an in-depth treatise at times exploring the deepest darkest reaches of the human psyche. Those of a nervous disposition, please look away now.

Are you ready?

Just kidding. I’ve got my reputation as an intellectual lightweight to uphold. Besides, the UK government probably already knows what I’m into; give it a few years and I’ll be leaking all OVER the place!

A question: How patient are you?