"There will come a point in many of our careers, when we begin to think about making a living in the non-adult world. Some will want to expand or open their own non-porn ventures."

Lord help me if I ever have to apply for a non-adult job in the future. I can just imagine it now:

Employer: "So, you spent the last _______ years working as a writer? What did you write? Who did you write for? Do you have any examples of your work?"

Mind you, I have answers for all of those questions. My problem is I'm not sure many future employers want to hear my replies. That is, if I ever decide to find a job in the non-adult market.

My hope is that I keep my sweet, Cozy gig for as long as possible. I love what I do. I would prefer to be a writer for the rest of my life. Yet, I have aspirations that go beyond the adult Internet. I want to write for everyone. I want to see my name on the spine of a hardback, displayed at a commercial bookstore. I want an agent. I want an editor. I want a publisher. I want to use my real name.

For now, I'm damned thankful to I have the job that I have. I would never have been given this opportunity if it weren't for the adult Internet. Just the same, I've built up a respectable body of published work. I have experience. In a perfect world, I should be able to trade on that experience. On my future resume, I should be able to include my porn years. In magic happy land, it would not matter that I worked for the Internet sex business.

Oh, but it does matter. It matters a lot.

Very few consider our profession as legitimate. Even the 'open-minded' still think of us as borderline criminals or fly-by-night operators. We're within our rights. We're within the law but just barely. We are the black sheep of the business world. We are the untouchables of industry. We're pornographers in the eyes of potential non-adult employers, not to mention investors and lenders.

"Your nightclub concept is great, Stan. Your business model is tight! But, before I invest, I need proof that you can make a success. What were you doing before you got into the bar business?"

"I see you recently sold your controlling interest in ReadyGo Productions Incorporated. What sort of company was ReadyGo Productions?"

"Yes, I understand you were in Internet marketing for a long time. What I want to know is, what kinds of products did you sell?"

The fact of the matter is there's a burnout factor to porn. Don't misinterpret me. We all believe in sexual freedom. However, most of us are barely phased anymore by the imagery we deal in: Tits are tits. Asses are asses. Dicks are dicks. Some are rounder. Some are smaller. Some are monsters. Fucking is fucking. Gang bangs are gang bangs. A dildo - glass, rubber or silicone - is still a dildo.

There will come a point in many of our careers, when we begin to think about making a living in the non-adult world. Some will want to expand or open their own non-porn ventures. Some will want to return to the corporate world. Some of us will go back to school. Some of us plan to trade up from our pre-porn jobs.

Whatever your future, have you thought about the repercussions of what you're doing now? Will you be able to tell a potential employer that you supported yourself for five or six years by making pornographic gallery pages for TGPs? Can you include your sets of blowjob pics in your photography portfolio? When you're courting investors for your dream hobby shop are you going to tell them you made your fortune selling gay videos to horny surfers?

Me, I'm a little luckier than some. A smutty history isn't so much of a drawback to a writer. My problem is being a writer in the first place. This business has allowed me to do something most writers never get to do. I make a living at what I love.

So, in addition to learning all the tips, tricks and magic it takes to be an adult webmaster, you need to consider the consequences of working in porn. Today it seems right, but what about the future?