–This is  a guest post from the always-hilarious Aubrey of Vagina Drum. Her prose is cutting, often insightful and always lol-worthy. She writes about sex and culture AND OF COURSE she had unbelievable story to share on porn–

Bus in the ass. I don’t even know what that is. The internet apparently doesn’t even know what that is. And if the place where you can order your groceries for a whole month, watch that video of Ron Livingston doing Keyboard Cat on loop, and see a crude sketch of Lisa Simpson’s vagina can’t come up with a satisfactory explanation, then nothing can. It simply must not exist.But, somehow, it does. And not just in my imagination where that busty redhead from The Magic School Bus is driving into someone’s ass and then that annoying blonde child starts droning on about rectum factoids and how it can expand to accommodate three regulation size dodge balls (not a real fact).

I saw it myself on Kink.com’s model application. While I was filling it out. To do porn. I briefly considered the “Bus in the ass” option, but, much like eating at Olive Garden, realized it was probably a bad idea that I would later regret. I did, however, sign up for Fucking Machines, Divine Bitches and offered myself up for men, women and anyone who might want to urinate on me. I attached my photos and expected to get a call never.

I suppose that’s why I had no qualms doing porn because I sincerely thought that I would never get the chance to actually do porn. Because the thing is, doing porn has this sort of connotation that you also burn down churches and Ronald McDonald Houses in your free time. And while I’m sure that’s a fetish somewhere, for me it just means that my writing career is slow right now and I wouldn’t mind getting paid to eat pussy.

Which is what I said when they called me the next day asking me to come in for an interview. My first thought: How is it possible that I’m the only one who applied? My second thought: I hope my boobs decide that, after about five years, they want out of the flop and sag business.

In preparation for my interview, I got waxed and spent around three hours trying to achieve a smokey eye until I gave up because Faces of Meth isn’t even something Kink.com is affiliated with. And like any self respecting media junkie (internet user), I googled to see if anyone had documented their experience interviewing with Kink. Since ‘wear a smart skirt suit and sensible heels’ isn’t prudent advice for this kind of thing, I came up with nothing. So, completely rudderless, I showed up to the San Francisco Armory (torture castle) in a t-shirt, jeans and my best pair of underwear.

Through some cruel exercise of the anthropic principle, James, the guy who was asking me about my pain threshold and taking photos of me with my legs spread so wide he probably should’ve tipped my waxist, had the same name as my dad. Luckily, he didn’t wear the same St. John’s Bay t-shirts or tell me that no matter what happens, he will always love me. Okay, maybe the last part would’ve been nice. But he did say that I had nice boobs, which is close enough.

I only looked half this deranged

While I was posing for him, I kept thinking, “Aubrey, you can do this – you’ve heard NIN’s Closer at least three times so just try to exude whatever that is.” He didn’t show me the photos and I didn’t ask to see them. Even after seeing me naked, I didn’t think we were close enough at the time to have a good cry together.

Later, he tested some nipple clamps on me and showed me some of the rooms where I could potentially be bound and gagged. Then we watched porn together.

If it had been a first date, I would’ve married him by now. Or at least had some sort messy breakdown because he rejected my proposal and left me at Denny’s without a ride home. But as much as I want to romanticize my experience, it was still an interview. One where I was naked for about 30% of the time and said “I just want to have sex with women” so many times he probably thought I was cop who was trying to bait him by repeating the same buzz phrase.

I’m still waiting to hear back. Even though I was lukewarm on the idea initially, now I wish I could pull an R. Kelly and turn back the hands of time so I could check the “Bus in the ass” option and maybe have a better shot at getting a foot or nipple or something in the door. Or in this case, vise.

Get more Aubrey on Vagina Drum