Oliver Miller indulges in some. On the joys of scrambled channels:

So today’s teenagers will never know the true, the soul-searing horror of thinking that you were jerking off to Playboy, and suddenly having the screen come into full focus, and realizing that you weren’t watching the right channel. Instead of watching some soft-core porn star, you were watching something else. And as the screen came into focus, you would realize that it was, say, a repeat of “The Golden Girls,” and you had been jerking off to the massive face of… Bea Arthur.

Look: someone somewhere found her hot. Leave Bea Alone! But yes, I do remember squinting sideways, and gleaning some jagged edge of boobage or, in my case, chestage with one eye constantly on the door in case my mom were to walk in. Good times.

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