You’re stroking along, totally in the zone, and then – bam! – some crime scene saxophone wails through your speakers, or a pornstar moans like she’s possessed by a dying vacuum cleaner. Kills the vibe faster than mom walking in. And yet… you keep watching, don’t you? There’s something about that chaotic, clumsy audio – those squishy sounds you know didn’t come from a real body – that just works. Maybe it’s nostalgia.View Post