A funny thing happened at work recently...
Posted: Tue Aug 30, 2005 11:17 am
So recently our boss goes into partnership with a porn studio to set up a "legitimate" film / TV studio.
The porn studio is very successful and incredibly well kitted out (porn is on the cutting edge of broadcasting technology). The guy running it just wants to make a name for himself in proper TV land.
We've hired in a very good studio manager who has the accent to put customers at ease, and is a real dynamo.
Things are going really quite well, and it's turned out to be a wise investment. Proper broadcast companies are showing interest, mainly thanks to our contacts, and the future looks bright
And one of the first customers is....
A Christian TV channel.
GOLD.
See, you look around this studio, and there are still little giveaways everywhere.
The faint smell of disinfectant.
The jacuzzi.
The mouse-mats on the office computers with cocks, tits and fannies everywhere.
The web address on the number-plate of the replica Starsky & Hutch car that's parked in the studio.
And the guy who owns the studio itself is the final straw.
Slicked-back, receding hair, an open shirt revealing copious amounts of chest hair and some major bling, a bright orange fake tan, and an attitude towards women that mainly consists of wondering how good they'd look with a cock between their tits...
The porn studio is very successful and incredibly well kitted out (porn is on the cutting edge of broadcasting technology). The guy running it just wants to make a name for himself in proper TV land.
We've hired in a very good studio manager who has the accent to put customers at ease, and is a real dynamo.
Things are going really quite well, and it's turned out to be a wise investment. Proper broadcast companies are showing interest, mainly thanks to our contacts, and the future looks bright
And one of the first customers is....
A Christian TV channel.
GOLD.
See, you look around this studio, and there are still little giveaways everywhere.
The faint smell of disinfectant.
The jacuzzi.
The mouse-mats on the office computers with cocks, tits and fannies everywhere.
The web address on the number-plate of the replica Starsky & Hutch car that's parked in the studio.
And the guy who owns the studio itself is the final straw.
Slicked-back, receding hair, an open shirt revealing copious amounts of chest hair and some major bling, a bright orange fake tan, and an attitude towards women that mainly consists of wondering how good they'd look with a cock between their tits...
