I am not going to pussyfoot around. I am going to tell them the truth, just as my father told me.
Children seem to have a natural enhanced sense that pornography is lying around somewhere.
This would happen to me over and over again. But, although all of the pages would be intact, still bound between their greasy covers, the magazine itself would usually be jaggedly ripped in half. Essentially, you would be staring at half-mast, incomplete porn, its torso cleaved from its nether regions. Somewhere, dearest god in heaven, its twin rested. Probably between the hands of another half-wit kid like me, wondering why he was looking at an entire magazine devoted to disembodied vaginas.