Taking a DIY Porn Class is Awkward, Amazing

A look inside the Armory…

A couple weeks ago I had the pleasure of taking a class in how to make my own porn, DIY-style, at the Armory — that lust-laden, brick fortress of pornographic pleasure.

But let's be clear. This was a crash course not in how to hone your “O face” from a pained, wind-sucking wince into more of a blissful moan that someone might find arousing, but, rather, about the practicalities of porn: How to find actors, raise money, where to shoot it, the legalities surrounding this wonderland of flesh.

I arrived just before dusk on my bike, already sweating, which seemed appropriate. Taking the stairs two by two I glanced behind me to spot an older yuppie couple (white hair and khakis) sheepishly walking in behind me.

I was greeted by a security guard flanked by a slew of flickering monitors. He gestured to a sign-in sheet and waiver that basically stated I was relinquishing all rights to be offended — I was poised to see all sorts of shit, genitals and otherwise, so get ready.

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