You spend hours of each day in your darkened, carpeted, suburban basement, hovering in front of a grimy PC with a handful of lemon-scented Jergen’s in one palm and a wadded lump of damp Kleenex in the other. Your neck’s tense and your eyes don’t blink - you’re a porn addict, hard-core, and there’s no changing you. But don’t despair, cousin; things have been worse! Here’s what’s AWESOME about your porn-drenched lifestyle:

- Thanks to recent developments in modern technology, your addiction costs a lot less than it did ten years ago, and is far easier to hide. Guys like you used to shell out $47.99 in “Sex Shoppes” for one measly, oversized, mammoth VHS copy of “Cheatin’ Hearts.” (Where do you put that so your wife doesn’t find it? In a drum of motor oil?) But now, unless you’re a total idiot, or hate having money, your entire collection’s probably built around mpegs and websites. The biggest problem you’ve got now is making sure your keyboard’s free of wayward shots of stringy, aged, yellowing jism. But that’s your deal and I can’t help you with that.

- Whereas porn used to be almost totally impenetrable for its “fans,” nowadays, if you’re a hardcore deviant who likes to make the occasional “big splash,” you can come right down to Winnetka Avenue, put on a hockey mask or a strange bandana, and take part semi-anonymously in an “American Bukkake.” Participating will both cut the cost of your addiction (Bukkake guys currently receive $100 for their contribution to the nation’s most public sperm bank) and allow you the chance to meet other people whose love of “the game” has become all-consuming.

- There are worse addictions!

Alcohol: Nose swells, corpuscles burst. Always been too scared to beat your kids? Try some alcohol!

Cocaine: Dick doesn’t work. Costs insane amounts of money (unless you’re in Peru). Dick doesn’t work. One day you realize you’ve been spending all your money on a drug that is basically a variant of coffee, but makes your nose bleed and dick not work.

Marijuana: Ever find yourself listening to a String Cheese Incident bootleg while someone named “Mushroom” who’s wearing a hemp body suit smokes scented tobacco and intensely fingers his dog’s anus? You are an addict of marijuana.

Heroin: With a porn addiction, at least you have some semblance of a life. But do enough heroin and you nod off all the time, apparently even while asleep. After a while your body gets confused and you end up looking like Anthony Bourdain dressed up as Paris Hilton dressed up as Tommy Lasorda’s skin cancer. No.

- In a very direct way, you’re keeping Taylor Rain off the streets. Let’s take a moment here and think about what addiction really means: it means you’re feeding people. Fuck all that Sally Struthers shit; with your addiction, you’re putting bread on American tables. A hump Jones might leave you pale and flabby, with a wife that gets sexytime only on weekends and paid vacations, but hey, it’s your secretly inexorable lust that makes it possible for countless Chatsworthian fuck-starlets to make their June rent. Chris Cannon can afford to shave his balls with high-quality lather because of you. (And I hate to belabor the coke thing, but would you rather fund a faceless Colombian narco-trafficante bullet-proofing his SUV, or would you rather make it possible for Rodney Moore to continue to see in Rodney-vision? Yeah, I know the answer, you don’t have to shout it: proud to be an American, cuz at least you know you’re freeee. . .)

- Everyone’s addicted to porn! Jesus, with the internet the the way it is now, saying you’re “addicted to porn” is like saying you’re addicted to “swallowing food.” No one’s talking about it, but you can bet your ass everyone’s doing it. The whole phenomenon reminds me of how whites like to say the word “nigga” amongst themselves after a few cold brewskis. They’re not owning up to it unless they’re basically under oath, but damn if they won’t keep on doing it. Our country thrives on little indiscretions of this sort - much like an elementary-school principal thrives on his free trial-membership to “Brazzers.” Without bullshit like porn, we’re liable to implode in a humorless puritanical frenzy and start flying planes into the side of buildings.

I guarantee - I fucking guarantee this - if they’d install solid internet connections with free-roaming, all-inclusive memberships to the BangBus network (*includes Captain Stabbin’ and Mike’s Apartment!) in the Madrasas nowadays, we wouldn’t have quite as deep and abiding an anti-American hatred thing going on in the Middle East. Now, for clarification’s sake, I’m not saying Pakistani Wahabis would start finding Bibi Netanyahu witty, urbane, or even not-gross-looking just because they finally get to whack off in peace like a normal person - but you tell me, who’s going to argue over a li’l strip of Jew-land when you could just as easily be watching Sasha Grey blow four dudes in a warehouse? I mean: that is one mind-boggling blowjob. It just really, really is.

And you, porn-addicted-guy, you helped make that blowjob possible. Remember that, next time you’re feelin’ low: by underwriting the industry that makes it its mission to capture impassioned acts of animal joy on videotape, you have fostered a million fantasies, given light to a million, spectacularly-titted dreams. And in the process, you may have eased international Jew tensions. Porn addict? I salute you.