6 Hilarious X-Rated Artifacts From Early Computers

It was called Teletext, and it was a product of the '70s and '80s (if the color scheme wasn't enough of an indicator). If you had the required decoder on your TV, you could receive text and text art over unused television spectrum -- it's how closed captioning works, basically. However, the most efficient use of this amazing technology was, of course, the advertising of boner-causing services. In Europe (especially Germany, as you may have guessed), Teletext ran shitloads of advertisements for phone sex hotlines apparently staffed by Sierra game characters. The flashing, colorful light pixels conjured up images of vaguely female sex partners while presumably killing every lonely epileptic in the continent.

And yes, they actually worked. Real people saw those things and said, "Holy crap, gotta get me some of that blocky action."

All of this was going on a full ten years before the World Wide Web became a thing, which is quite impressive. Even more interesting is the degree to which Teletext has not changed in the years since its birth. Although most major broadcasters have dropped the system, since it's not compatible with digital television, there are still people using it. And the sex ads look exactly as they did in 1983. So if you have any older European relatives who refuse to get rid of their archaic TVs, well, you may have now learned more about them than you ever wanted to.

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Aimed at the internet-savvy, Future Sex billed itself as your cool robotic aunt -- "creative, offbeat, kinky, goofy, pro-sex." In reality, however, the magazine was exactly as futuristically sexy as being ninja-starred in the junk by a DVD of The Lawnmower Man. Sandwiched between the unflattering boob and penis shots were painfully awkward thinkpieces ...

... stories about dickin' in the future that make Fifty Shades Of Grey look like Lady Chatterley's Lover by comparison ...

... coverage of some guy whose dick has its own blog ...

... and the piece de resistance: a vision of what cybersex might look like one day, courtesy of some designers who have never seen genitals or experienced any kind of sexual arousal.

The magazine covers in general resemble the sort of manic hallucinations that Harlan Ellison might have experienced if he'd taken a tab of LSD right before watching Showtime After Dark.

If you're confused about why Future Sex wasn't able to last beyond a phenomenal seven issues before collapsing like a black hole made from floppy penises, what can we say? The advertisers obviously weren't bringing in the dough. However, it's debatable whether that's down to the magazine itself or the fact that the ad copy was nothing beyond the sort of cybersex puns that we all made in high school.

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Back in the '80s and early '90s, when only military types and major poindexters had access to the internet, everyday mortals had to settle for Usenet -- essentially a giant email thread of user-posted articles that could be accessed from any dial-up location. Usenet was for sharing text only, and even then, it only allowed 7-bit ASCII characters (so no fancy symbols or anti-American letters with squiggly lines for you). Pictures weren't allowed ... but porn always finds a way. Usenet users figured out they could share smut anyway by painstakingly encoding image files into the extremely limited set of ASCII characters, then posting them to a Usenet group in dozens of small parts. Then the poor sucker looking for something to masturbate to on the other end had to download each part and put the file back together, only to inevitably realize that "hairy_dwarf_eating_pussy.jpg" was actually a photo of ALF.

It was especially painful to get something you didn't like when people started repeating this process with video files. You could literally spend weeks downloading a single pornographic clip, so it was devastating when you opened it and it didn't suit your sensibilities.

If this sounded like too much of a hassle (or more likely, you were too dumb to make it work), you could always settle for the vast sea of erotic stories at your disposal. A good chunk of Usenet was devoted to simple .txt files about everything from vanilla husband-wife sex to lesbian urination adventures. You can still visit "alt.sex.stories" today and enter search terms to look at, for example, the first pioneers to write online pony erotica.

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Retailing at $29.95 (or $82 with inflation), Softporn Adventure placed you in the shoes of an average guy trawling bars, casinos, and strip clubs in the hope of finding somewhere to stick it before succumbing to his obvious mental illness. Presumably because they expected players to have whacked themselves into a near-unconscious delirium by the opening screen, the game is ridiculously easy to play, even by the standards of a genre in which the most complicated task you'll ever endure is dropping an ax. In fact, the most mentally challenging aspect of Softporn Adventure is customizing the color, flavor, and ribbed-ness of your condom loadout.

There's no pictures, but that's where this game comes into its own. It's such a powerfully erotic script that you don't need graphics, what with all the vivid imagery bukkaking in your mind's eye.

For instance, take this saucy scene, wherein you're spying on someone through a peephole:

Or the scene in which you hate-fuck a sex doll into oblivion:

Like we said, it's powerfully erotic material. That feeling of griminess is just ... a side effect. If you're an action fan, this doesn't mean that there's nothing for you. After all, there's the adrenaline-fueled sequence in which you get robbed by a hooker and face the choice of starvation or 48 Hours-ing yourself out of a bondage rope.

Thankfully, the game doesn't end by forcing you to write an existential despair-filled suicide note. In what must be the most controversial video game ending that isn't Mass Effect 3's, your character manages to romance someone into sharing whatever lifetime he has left after his undiagnosed venereal diseases kick into action.

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The adult chatrooms called Minitel Rose made use of Minitel, an early precursor of the internet that was rolled out across France in the 1980s. In order to get as many people as possible using it, every user was issued with a free access terminal. It isn't a great surprise, then, that the adult chatrooms became the popular part of the service, especially in rural areas. The first question asked by early adopters is "How do I turn it on?" The second is always "How can it turn me on?"

Truth be told, it was a pretty good system. It was expensive, thanks to the pay-by-the-minute charges, but there was no chance of anyone being phished or hacked or scammed ... unless you count the fact that most users (who were guys) were actually talking to the employees of Minitel (other guys), not some busty mademoiselle gazing wistfully out of her chateau window. But if anything, that confirms that it was ahead of its time.

And for the, like, cinq people left in France who didn't know what they were missing out on, the adverts sure as hell gave them a good idea:

Minitel was eventually withdrawn in 2012, after everyone realized that they could now climax at a speed higher than 0.1 Mbps. Still, that means that there would have been plenty of demand for The Joy Of Cybersex, an informative how-to guide that puts the "D" in "CD-ROM." When it was released in 1993, it quietly delighted frustrated fathers everywhere with its in-depth knowledge about adult bulletin boards, slang, sexy video games, and -- as they called it -- "future sex and teledildonics."

Frankly, we don't even know what the point of this fancy futuristic technology is if we can't dress up like Robocop's creepy uncle and pipe 1996's Playboy: Girls Of The Internet into our virtual reality headset.

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Our first question upon seeing the game in action is whether or not there was a chestburster lurking inside this poor lady, because her breasts seem to pulse erratically in a way that no one who has ever seen a woman in real life would find natural. As you use a variety of sex toys on the female protagonist, she suddenly starts freaking the fuck out, twitching like a dying beetle. That's the kind of thing that kills a masturbation session faster than accidentally answering a FaceTime call from your mother, so we're not sure what it's doing in this game.

Notice the "sex partners" menu? That's where things get really weird. You can pick three partners: a fellow lady called Lola, a slightly less lady-like version of Lola with a fetish ensemble, or "Melvin." Picking Melvin is, for all intents and purposes, the "Game Over" button, because if you do, this happens:

For reasons that can never be explained, Melvin is some sort of freakishly tiny man with an 8-ball for a head, and if you dare summon him, he comes flying onscreen like a freaking circus goblin and takes that vagina to church. Why? We're not even sure it matters at this point. Be thankful you live in the golden age of porn, and don't have to make do with the log cabin that is MacPlaymate.

When they aren't rocking your world with bad puns and harsh truths, Marina and Adam can be found on Twitter. Now they've joined forces, and no one can stop them.

Also check out 5 Weird Ways Porn Completely Changed In Just A Decade and 4 Things In Every Porn You Should Never Do In Real Life.

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