syrrys

That was the thing about the tapes: It wasn't the stuff that was in them, but you wonder about the low, desperate sort of individual who could be turned on by such a shabby production. The best of the three I got had what I took to be an aging Serbian prostitute, a straight-off-the-boat immigrant from Zimbabwe, and two hairy guys who couldn't even 'perform' (if you know what I mean), all of them talking in some kind of Eastern European Yiddish. It was like a window in to some level of grubby desperation you hope to never know.

^^^^^^
?????

That said, you know you're no loser. You were far better off not going out on VDay.