Friday, May 18, 2012

Where you been?

Hi everyone,

You may have noticed that I haven’t been regularly updated the Jizzmopper Chronicles for a while and I wanted to let you know why.

My wife (and our 7-month-old son) has been kind enough to point out that all the time I was spending on this blog and its Twitter account was taking massive amounts of attention and interaction away from them. When I realized just how badly I was neglecting them, I realized I needed to quickly reframe my priories before I lost anything more than time.

Because of this, we’ve been spending our time as a family, rather than just me hunkered down alone on my computer.

What does this mean for the Jizzmopper Chronicles?

The first phase of the chronicles has been written and a lot of it has been posted on this blog. The second phase is mostly written, but as I reviewed my writing, I realized that a lot of phase two needs to be revised and beefed up.

So, I will continue to finish new sections and post them on this blog, but they won’t be daily, like I had been doing. I also won’t be active on Twitter. (I’ll still try to posts links to new posts if I can, but the two other accounts I manage have taken up all the attention I have to give to micro-blogging.) The goal is still to turn this into a book eventually and I’ll post on the blog when this process gets closer.

Thanks for reading and continuing to follow my stories.

Friday, May 4, 2012

12.5 Hours in a Porn Store

Usually I work the 6 to 10pm shift, but today I covered for the coworker who works the 10am-6pm day shift. This means I was looking at a 10am to 10pm shift without breaks behind the glass counter of a porn store.  The coworker I was covering for regularly worked the 10am to 10pm shift at the store, so I knew it could be done, but this was the longest consecutive time I have spent in a porn store (even including my time working at an adult bookstore during college).

If you’re anything like me, you face a challenge like this with an amusing theme. In this case, I decided to spend the shift listening to the complete discography of Bob Marley and the Wailers. From African Herbsman to Uprising (I decided to go alphabetical instead of chronological), it was to be a Reggae day.

The first thing I noticed was that being around sexual-related items put a new twist on some of Bob Marley’s classics:
  • Anal Sex – No Woman No Cry, Exodus, TRENCH Town Rock
  • Masturbation – Lively Up Yourself, Stir it Up, Crazy Baldhead
  • Sex Toys – Positive Vibration, Kinky Reggae
  • Sex in General – Is This Love, Could You Be Loved, Jammin’
  • And I’m completely convinced that I Shot the Sherriff is an analogy about being a top in anal sex (sheriff), but now allowing yourself to be a bottom (deputy).

This experience also gave me a new appreciation for the Wailers as a live band. Songs that were recorded on a bare-bones budget in a studio outside some Jamaican slum take on a renewed energy when performed live by a band with high-end instruments that put the crowd’s energy directly back into their music.

Only one customer commented about the music playing in the store. It was a man in his twenties who gave me a smile as he asked, “Cool tunes… they let you play stuff like this in the store?”

To which I replied, “Nope.”

I wasn’t supposed to be listening to anything other than the 4 approved radio stations, but I man has to have something to get him through the day.

Sometimes it’s fun breaking the rules and being naughty in a naughty store.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

No sex until...

A customer came up to me today and asked me questions about what men use when they’re "by themselves." I took him over to the pocket vaginas and gave a vague description of how to use them. This only confused the poor guy, so I went into more graphic details, including the classic finger into the clenched fist routine.

One of the more awkward things about working in an adult store is trying to figure out what terms are appropriate to use when describing body parts. It feels funny telling someone they’re supposed to put their penis and testicles into the stretched rubber of the vibrating dual-headed-cock ring. At the same rate, it feels just as strange using the words cock and balls to a customer in a retail setting.

This customer went onto explain how he and his fiancé were living together, but they were still waiting to have sex with each other. They were both in their 40s, had been previously married and were not virgins, but still wanted to save intercourse for their wedding night.

“No kidding!” was his repeated phrase as I answered his questions about everything from anal plugs to ball gags, the whole time wondering if he was for real or if this was all a rouse that was giving him some sort of sick thrill.

After 45 minutes of sexual education from me, he didn’t buy anything.

Situations like this always leave me wondering if people are really so naive that they don't realize that the answers to their questions could easily be answered by visiting the internet. I chose to work here and expect questions like this, but I can't help but think it would be less embarrassing and awkward to do a little research on your own. But a lot of folks decide it's easier to come ask questions and give intimate personal details to a stranger behind a glass counter.

Then I start to think about how sheltered some people are. Granted, with my experiences I'm pretty jaded, but I'm surprised to see people come into the store that don't know what a dildo is. I know there are people like this in the world, I just wouldn't expect them to come into a porn store.

On the upside, it does help break-up my shift.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

The Jizzmopper Chronicles Phase II - Legitimate Porn

Well here we are again…

I’m back working at an adult bookstore. This time in Minneapolis.

For those of you just joining the blog, I spent the majority of my college career at Minnesota State University, Mankato working at a creepy porn/head store on the edge of town. I started out on overnights and eventually worked my way up to Assistant Manager. For the most part, it was amusing. Once I became Assistant Manager, I worked 3 days on, 3 days off and made more there than my first two “professional” jobs after I graduated from college.

This time, I’m working at a newly-built adult bookstore to raise extra cash for my upcoming wedding and to give me some more life experience to write about. It’s not a sleazy store with guys jerking off to porn in the video booths and toothless, meth heads coming into buy glass pipes. This is a couple’s friendly, “legitimate business” stationed in a mini-mall at the edge of a suburb.

You might think that working here would be a lot less amusing and tame than working at a cum-soaked whack shack, but you’d be wrong. People are much more likely to open up to me here and I learn about bedroom antics from all walks of life. (It’s also caused me to wonder if my mailman is wearing a locked-on butt-plug under his pants as he makes his daily rounds.)

I’ll be posting amusing anecdotes and things I feel the need to rant about. I’m currently working on turning these stories into a book, so stay tuned for more information.

Happy reading!

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

A lesson in love...

I expected to meet a lot of new people when I started posting these stories online and promoting the blog through Twitter. What I didn’t expect was to learn so much about other people’s lifestyles and sexual interests.

I’ve written a lot about fetishes and about how I really don’t care what people are into as long as it isn’t hurting anyone. But I found that the more I learned about different fetishes and lifestyles, the more I wanted to know and more questions I had.

Fortunately, there have been a number of very patient people who have taken the time to answer some of my questions via Twitter and email. I am thankful to these teachers who gave me some true insight into a different world. They’re probably tired of explaining their interests to others or perhaps gave me a little window into a part of their lives that they don’t share with most friends and family.

My burning question involved asking how people are able to live a dedicated BDSM lifestyle. This is something that I’ve wondered about ever since I saw the, “Bring out the gimp,” scene in Pulp Fiction.
I’m something of a realist when it comes to fantasies. I’m the one who’s always finding plot holes and asking questions like, “Why didn’t Cinderella’s glass slipper change back to rags like the rest of her clothes?” Additionally, as a new parent, I’ve seen just how thin patience and humor can be stretched when you’re sleep-deprived and pressed for time.

Knowing this, how the hell can a couple be dom/sub all the time?

I’m very grateful that the first response about this wasn’t, “Couples do it when they can, just like anything else asshole!” But after the first email, a lot of things started to make sense. The “real-world” has a way of limiting the amount of time anyone can spend on their passion, whatever it may be. Couples with children who are also into BDSM often save their play for evenings when they can be alone in the bedroom. If Master started trying to enforce commands that involved doing the dishes and getting lunch boxes filled, the fantasy would completely disappear rather rapidly.

Someone else said, “You’re a Star Wars enthusiast right? While I’m sure you’d like nothing more than watching the movies and reading the books during your spare time, you probably don’t get to. So what do you do? You spend time on this interest when you can!”

Another excellent point was that many people online have specific Twitter accounts or websites dedicated to their fetish interests. To an outsider such as myself, it looks like they do nothing but have crazy, wild sex all day long and that they’re a complete devotee to this kink. But the reality is that this is a “normal” everyday person who no one would ever suspect is into anything kinky, spending their free moments writing about their secret passion.

And let’s not forget that not everyone online is always telling the truth.

This was a good learning experience for me. Since I had been exposed to the sides of many peoples’ personalities that they normally hide, I assumed that these folks spent all their time kinking it up. In all honesty, these people could be my neighbors, coworkers, even close friends and I would never know.

Follow your bliss people. I just hope that after taking care of your kids and sleeping, you’re able to find enough time for both work… and play.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

And now it's time...

All good things must come to an end and we’re getting to the part of the Jizzmopper Chronicles where I graduate from Minnesota State University, Mankato, quit the porn store and move to Phoenix. The parent company of the store didn’t have the need for a full-time marketing and communications employee (despite the fact that they were pleased with the ads I had created for the store) and I was getting sick of retail, so I quit.

The events that have taken place in this blog so far actually took place between 1998 and 2001, but are written as current because I think they’re more interesting this way. Besides, everyone loves nostalgia. Just look at!

Phase II of the Jizzmopper Chronicles will cover the second time I worked at a porn store. This time it was at a mini-mall, couple-friendly, suburbia-appropriate store that had fall less cum on the floor, but just as much creepiness. 

I was no longer a bored college student. I was working a second job during evenings and weekends to save up money for my upcoming wedding.

In some ways, this store was even stranger than the "whack-shack." In a more comfortable setting, customers are much more likely to ask for your help. This is cool for the most-part, but they’re also much more likely to start telling you intimate details about their health and sex-life that you’d rather not know about.

One woman spent an hour on the phone telling me about how her first husband raped her, and then came into the store to tell the whole story again in person. Old men loved to tell me about their inability to achieve erection without one of our elaborate devices or expensive, placebo sex pills. Underage teenagers tried to come in the store all the time and those that were 18 often attempted to pay with a relative’s credit card. (Anyone in retail has probably noticed the disturbing trend of adult children paying with parent's credit cards. But it's one thing when this happens at the grocery store, it's quite another when it's to buy a vibrating butt-plug.)

Anyway, since things are moving forward, I wanted to invite readers to send in any more questions or comments about the Mankato store before I start posting about the new store. I can always comment on either store, but I want to make sure I collect your thoughts before you forget about any burning queries concerning video booths, jizzmopping or meth pipes.

Thanks again for taking the time to read my sick, little blog!

Friday, April 20, 2012

Exposing yourself at the porn store…

When I first began college, I was a theater major for my first semester. Eventually, I decided that I didn’t want to spend four years training for something that I could audition for without a degree and switched over to mass communications. But this first semester introduced me to a lot of different people, different lifestyles and taught me a lot about the world of theater.

Yesterday, a former theater classmate came into the store and bought some gay videos. He acted like he didn’t know me, which kind of bothered me since we had performed a scene together for our Friday morning acting class. (It was a theatrical reworking of the scene in Pulp Fiction where Vincent accidentally blows Marvin’s head off in their car. And it was awesome!) After he left, and I thought more about the situation and suddenly realized how uncomfortable it must have been for him.

Buying anything at the porn store completely exposes a large portion of yourself that most people would rather stay hidden. Now, I’ve written a lot about messing with people who were uncomfortable in the store, but this is only because they’re acting uncomfortable about something I feel they should be relaxed with.
When a customer buys something like gay pornography, they’re essentially coming out to a stranger. Who knows if they’re still in the closet or if they’re terrified of recognizing the person behind the counter. Mankato is a small town and even in the college community, word travels fast.

This gave me a new appreciation for people who buy certain items at the store. I’ve always shown customers buying gay porn the utmost respect. I figure they put up with enough shit in their lives without me being a smart ass. This respect has been expanded to people who buy bondage gear and lingerie. The purchase could be for a side of their personality that only a select few (or no one) know about.

The same church that drove through our parking lot while preaching threw a megaphone has also been spotted camping out in the parking lot across the street with binoculars, checking out who was coming into the store and writing down license plate numbers. I’d never be involved with a church that performed such a blatant invasion of privacy, but this act is despicable no matter how you look at it. Don’t they have anything better to do with their time than obsessing over what helps people achieve an orgasm?

I know Jesus doesn’t mention homosexuality, bondage, cross-dressing or huffing video head cleaner in the gospels, but I like to believe he’d be cool with it as long as it was consensual. I also like to imagine St. Peter at the gates of heaven stopping the people from Westboro Baptist Church (the God Hates Fags people) and saying, “Haven’t you guys read the new testament?” Before pulling the switch that sends them down to an eternity more fitting of their behavior.

My hat is off to all of you who buy anything from porn stores that you want to keep private. Yes, the internet has made ordering a lot of these items anonymously a lot easier, but I would make sure you give your postal carrier a decent tip over the holidays.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

What is obscene?

A discussion with my Mass Communications Law professor got me thinking deeply about my personal beliefs and values.

We were studying landmark cases that involved journalism, communication and freedom of speech. Her main point about a particular case is that sometimes things aren’t seen as obscene and made illegal until they’ve been brought in front of a court of law. This also works in the opposite direction. Sometimes laws are unconstitutional and things are banned, but they need to be challenged all the way to the Supreme Court of the United States for the law to be thrown out.

One section of the class was focused on pornography and obscenity. Usually, these cases involved artwork or literature, but as we moved closer to the present day, they started to involve pornography. Books and pieces of art could be around for years before someone decided to challenge them as obscene. Magazines and movies could float around in the underground for quite a long time before someone gets arrested and charged with anything.

Technically speaking, for something to be declared as art, it needs to serve some productive purpose for society, and this can be a very tricky thing to prove. Additionally, as social norms evolve, something that is commonplace today could be seen as completely obscene in the past.

Her statement that caught my attention was, “Are there things being sold at the porn store on the edge of town that are obscene? Of course there are, they just haven’t been challenged in court yet.”
She knows I work at the store and will sometimes toss in references just to get my attention. This didn’t bother me, but her statement made me realize that I don’t think anything that isn’t hurting someone is obscene.

I’ve made peace with the fact that if I had been born in most other historical eras, I would most certainly be put to death. Lucky as I am to be living in our modern, open-minded era, I can honestly say that the only thing that offends me is when other people are offended.

I don’t think that ANYTHING is above criticism or satire. This goes for everything from government and public figures to religions and so-called profits. Obviously, you don’t want to be an asshole, but to be offended at a legitimate questioning of something you believe in shows insecurity. We still live in a world where people are threatened with death after offending someone’s religion, so there must be a lot of insecure people out there.

My feelings are similar towards porn. Yes there are valid arguments against exposing children to pornography and there are dangers of becoming obsessed with it because the lines of reality can start to blur, but we don’t ban alcohol simply because there are alcoholics.

Yesterday’s post about strange fetishes discussed how strange some peoples’ sex lives can be, but no one is forcing anyone to watch their personal life or their choice in porn. If gay porn grosses you out, don’t watch it. If gang-bangs creep you out, don’t participate in them and certainly don’t watch porn that features this sexual act. If you feel scat-play is disgusting, send the link to 2-Girls-One-Cup to your buddies, but don’t actually go to the website yourself.

I’m a little jaded and certainly desensitized, but the idea of calling something obscene and attempting to ban it seems pointless. Any media will be judged by the eye of the beholder and there is always going to be someone who hates everything. Leaving the decision up to politicians and judges does not strike me as a good idea. (Any decision they make will be the one that they think will look best to their constituents, not based on how they actually feel. Besides, they’ll be able to buy all the sick shit they want through the black-market anyway.)

I’ll post the question to you; Is there anything you consider obscene?

Post below, tweet to @jizzchronicles or email to jizz_mopperhhh at 

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Snowballing, space docking and other weird shit…

If you’re familiar with this blog, you know I try really hard not to judge people. Sure I’ll laugh at you and write up lengthy posts about your bizarre behavior, but if what you’re doing isn’t hurting anyone else, I say go for it.

Thanks to the porn store, and also the internet, I’ve learned about some really crazy fetishes. I’m really open-minded about sex and am open to trying just about anything once, but I can honestly say there’s not one particular act or focus that only turns me on. Lots of things turn me on, but I don’t need to be tied up and called a sissy in order to get an erection.

I don’t expect everyone with particular fetishes is absolutely obsessed with it and can only perform when they experience this particular thing, but there are people who are into things that even I think are kind of odd.

#1. Snowballing – This isn’t really that strange and I can’t say I’m completely opposed to it. The problem is that when you’re in the throws of passion, a lot of things sound really hot at the time. I can’t count the number of times I’ve collapsed after ejaculating, so glad that I didn’t act on my impulse to finish by throwing my robe on like a cape and screaming, “Hong-Kong-Phooey,” before emptying into my wife. (She will be mortified when she reads this section.)

I feel that snowballing would be a similar situation. While receiving a deep, erotic blow job, it might sound like a good idea to share your semen during a long, post-ejaculation kiss with your lover. But as soon as you cum, I’ll bet this incredibly hot idea no longer seems as erotic and you’re in for a big surprise.

#2 Space Docking – I have no idea if people actually do this, but the amount of content on the internet dedicated to this topic suggests it at least turns certain people on. Briefly, space docking is when someone shits into another woman’s vagina. (There are a billion other variations and arguments about what “true” space docking is, but I’ll leave that for you to Google yourself.)

I’m not into watersports or scat play, nor have I spoken to anyone who is, but space docking takes this to a completely new level. I find myself wondering what horrific childhood experience would cause someone to find feces being expelled from a vagina attractive. Then there are the hygienic aspects of this act. (Can you even douche out poop?)

#3 Cock Stuffing – I’m not sure why anyone would have the urge to put anything up inside their penis, but there are devices dedicated to this practice. Personally, I’d be worried about losing the foreign object up inside my bladder and an embarrassing trip to the urologist. Not to mention the possibility of infection and severe damage to your urethral tract.

There are a million other things out there that people are into and it’s impossible to even begin to delve into them. So I’ll leave you with these questions:
  • Are you into anything you consider weird?
  • Why do you think you like it?
  • What’s the strangest sexual act you’ve ever participated in?
I’ll leave you to decide whether to post, email or tweet me your answers. 

Friday, April 13, 2012


One of the great things about being a porn store clerk is that you always have a little something over your customers. As confident as they are about buying porn or sexual products, there’s at least a tiny bit of them that’s embarrassed about the purchase. Because of this, customers are less-likely to complain than in other retail industries and you can fuck with those who are really uncomfortable about being in the store.

Since this is a porn store, and we expect people to purchase sexual related products, embarrassing customers isn’t quite as easy as if I worked at a novelty store like Spencer’s Gifts (where they sell a small number of sex items and a whole shitload of other useless crap.) While I was in high school, a friend of mine worked at the local Spencer’s inside a mall. He worked there for three years and only had one person come up to the counter with a vibrator. The poor woman was beet red as she tried to discreetly set a vibrator and small bottle of lube onto the counter. Ever the salesman, he smiled and said loudly, “Would you like batteries for your purchase?” This caused the mortified woman to run out of the store and he was forced to put the dusty vibrator box back on the shelf.

More often than not, I was able to mess with stoned customers rather than ones worried about buying pornography. Screwing around with someone stoned out of their gourd would always put me in a good mood and I had several favorite methods I liked to use:
  • Loud-Quiet-Loud – In this case, I would ring up the customer, start saying the price in a loud, clear voice, only to mumble the amount of change necessary for the purchase. For this trick to work, you need to prepare by turning the price display of the cash register away from the customer, though some are so dazzled by the well-lit fluorescence of the store, they couldn’t read the numbers anyway.
  • Bo-Waterpipe – Most customers coming into the store know what they can (and can’t) say that won’t get them kicked out of the store. Technically, we sell Water-Cooled Tobacco Pipes, not bongs. Inevitably, a customer would forget and ask to see one of the, “Bo..waterpipes,” on the top shelf. When this happened, I would give them a severe look and ask in my most serious tone, “What’s a bo-waterpipe?”
  • No – Some of the regular customers were really bad at asserting themselves and seemed to be in a constant state of massive paranoia whenever they came into the store. When these customers would ask to see something, I’d simply tell them, “No.” An awkward silence would follow until they decided I was joking, give me a slight smile and I’d glower back at them. (I only kept this up long enough once for the customer to actually leave the store without buying anything.)
  • Good Cop – Despite the fact that it's complete bullshit, there are number of people who believe an undercover cop must tell you that he or she is with the police if you ask. (If this were true, so many classic movies would have been over within the first 10 minutes.) Whenever these misguided souls would ask me this question, I’d always assure them I was a cop and that I liked porn, so this was a great undercover gig for me. (This did cause one of the regular meth-pipe customers to turn and walk straight out of the store, never to be seen again.)
I wasn't much more delicate when dealing with an embarrassed porn customer. If it was a single guy buying a magazine or video, anything was fair game, but I always tried to put couples and female customers at ease.

My general line when a sweaty, insecure male customer brought a movie up to the counter was an incredibly loud, “Oh Shit! This one is fucking awesome!” I’d turn around, find the tape on the wall of thousands of filed VHS tapes and then slide it into our store TV/VCR player so I could show him my favorite parts. I would wait for at least three, “That’s okay,” pleads before I took the tape out and sold it to him.

When the embarrassed customer was dressed like a jock, I’d grab the tape and as I was loading it into the case, just about to ring it into the register, I’d say, “You know this has gay sex in it.” Then I’d watch the guy’s eyes widen until they were about at his eyebrows and say, “Nah, just kidding,” and ring him up really fast.

*Note, I never fucked with customers buying gay porn, even if they were embarrassed about it. I always figured they received enough harassment in their everyday lives without me messing with them.

One thing I couldn’t stand customers buying way Playboy magazine. While it’s not bad reading material (despite the classic joke), it’s completely useless as porn. In each issue, there are only three, heavily airbrushed, pictorials of women who look like they came straight out of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition. I know some guys actually like this type of porn, but they should really pick up a Hustler or a Gallery to get the most out of their money.

If a shy customer came up with a Playboy, I’d hold it up in front of my eyes and say, “Nooooooooo, you don’t want this.” Then I’d come around the counter and walk him back to the magazine shelves to give him my, loud and obnoxious, expert opinion. During this consultation, I’d ask all sorts of embarrassing questions about what parts of a woman he most admired. Then I’d tell him all about the magazine’s that I liked to masturbate to (usually picking the most unusual and fetish-based magazine I could find.)

Nine times out of ten, after my giant display of assistance, they’d end up buying the Playboy anyway.

Let’s be honest, working retail kind of sucks. You need to do a little something to make the hours go by. I’d like to say I’m sorry for messing with these customers, but I’m not.