my “Dear Penthouse Forum;” problem

On July 27, 2018 I wrote a story called “Dear Penthouse Forum;” Like all of the stories I post it was widely ignored and soon disappeared from the public consciousness. It was innocent enough, with no lurid sexual content whatsoever, and ended with one of my favorite quotes from David Whyte.

For those of you unfamiliar with Penthouse Forum, do not believe a word of what Wikipedia has to say about it. Wikipedia says the following; “Penthouse Forum was started in March 1968 and featured letters, articles on health, medicine psychology and social relationships.”

Social relationships my ass. What total bullshit. In reality, at least how I remember it, Penthouse Forum was the largest depository of boner-inducing tales of sexual conquest that has ever existed. Short of actually seeing actual boobs, it was the next best thing.

“So what’s the problem?” you might be asking yourself.

Here’s the problem.

About six months ago people started viewing it on my website. I’m not sure how ‘they’ found it or why, but traffic for that story started to go up.

And up.

Now every day more people visit my site to read that story than whatever new thing I have posted. Sometimes two or three times as many.

“So what’s the problem?” you might be asking yourself again. “Views are views.”

No. They are not.

You see, and here’s the problem in all its glory, the people coming to read “Dear Penthouse Forum;” have come to read smut. When they used their one hand to click on my link, you don’t want to know what their other hand was doing. They want dirty words and graphic descriptions of intercourse and a myriad of other perversions. While it might be true that they can find just that type of content in other stories I’ve posted, “Dear Penthouse Forum;” has none of that stuff.

Something these horny bastards soon discover and click out of my site. The average time they spend scouring my delightful story for hardcore depravity is about 4 seconds.

I kid you not.

I can just imagine their disappointment when Google sends them to my page and they are sitting there, throbbing away and desperate to release their cumbersome payload, only to discover that some unknown douchebag is rambling on and on about the different outfits a girl was wearing. If they even get to the David Whyte quote it must be a slap in the face.

They depart cursing the name of Lance Manion.

Not exactly the type of PR I was hoping for when I wrote it.

If you Google ‘Dear Penthouse Forum’ you will find over 21,100,000 links. Mine sits at #3.

NUMBER THREE! w t f

First page, right under Wikipedia and Reddit.

How the fuck does that happen? For years the dumb story slumbered unnoticed, but then, due to some algorithm I’ll never understand, I’m getting a herd of perverts from around the globe visiting my page every day. Perverts that then depart angry at Google, Lance Manion and the stuck-up women who caused them to have to jerk off online in the first place.

Not the crowd I was to be associated with.

I’m an author damnit! Why couldn’t one of my brilliant essays on culture find its way to Google? Or one of my poignant examinations of the human condition get a little love from the internet?

I’ll tell you why… because I don’t write brilliant essays on culture or poignant examinations of the human condition. I write nonsense cloaked in pseudo-intellectual nonsense.

Don’t like that last sentence? Then you’ll hate most of what I write.

But I didn’t write a damn letter to Penthouse Forum and there appears to be no way to stop the flood of horny men and women looking for me to get them off with my literary prowess.

I bet nobody even got to the

Yours Sincerely,

Well Hung Up On Someone

Bangor, Maine

part.

At least Bangor sounds dirty…