Erm, well, porn actually...
...and it wasn't particularly good porn either. But there are one or two elements here that maybe perk the cliche up.

First, my age at the time - Seven? Eight? Yes, it sounds bad, but...well, no 'but' I guess.

Second, the aesthetics. The dirty pr0n in question? Page 3 lovelies gleaned from my father's sultry copies of The Sun. Occasionally my collection would be suplemented by judicious use of the Littlewoods catalogue, depending on the time of year. As you can see, the bacontrout of yore had no small amount of class. And where to keep such a bounty of mammary!? Why, my very own official brand A-Team lunchbox thanks!

I kept this lunchbox under my bed, a bunk type contraption without the lower bunk. Instead, it had a sort of crawlspace, that by day was a useful place for toys and the like. Come the night, and it's time to break out my Fwap Commando Unit (Murdock and Face looking on approvingly) for...well I don't really know. This was an age before fwapping. To be blunt, I have never really questioned my motives at this delicate time, as who knows where that might go. Instead, I will explain it all away by merit of my vaguely obsessive collecting and categorising nature (think Lance in 'Neighbours' when he collects all those cricket stats. In fact don't, you'll feel better), coupled with my undeniable boob envy.

So, having regaled you for some time with a fairly obscure moment in my smut career, lets cut to it.

Of course my mum finds it. Of course she does. That much is obvious. How? Exactly, who fucking cares. She's my mum, it's her job. What is of note is the ensuing conversation...

*a cherubic bacontrout gambols through the front door, fresh from a days "top to bottom and flick and cross" (ahh good ole Zig-Zag - there is an obvious link between it's discontinuation and the rise in knife crime I feel), only to see his mum holding in her hand THE END OF HIS LIFE AS HE KNOWS IT (Murdock disapproving now)*

Mum - "Bacon, what are you supposed..." - these are the first fucking words out of her mouth, mind - "what are you supposed to put in your lunchbox?"

Me (looking down and swivelling my right toe into the floor) - "Sandwiches..."

Mum - "And what don't I want to find in there?"

*sigh*

Me - "Boobies."

Which was all a bit of a moot point really, as I never got the lunchbox back. She must have presumed it was designed for the job, and no other receptacle would do. In some respects, she was probably right.

So remember kids, if you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire...The Fwap Team DA DADA DAAAA DA DA DADAAAAAA
(bacontrout got ska, Fri 15 Aug 2008, 3:25, 3 replies)

Snap!
I also collected page 3 girls way back before I knew why I wanted them. I chose a craftier hiding spot, however..... twixt the pages of my Beezer and Topper annuals. So ingenious was this that I myself eventually forgot they were there, and was only reminded after having given the books to my girlfriends young brother. Oh what joy I had explaining that, I'd rather my mum had found them.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Fri 15 Aug 2008, 4:26, closed)

Hmm
I think my porn is still stashed on the top shelf of the wardrobe in my old room at my parents house. Not too fussed but really hope they don't suddenly decide to redecorate.
(Milo Minderbinder, Fri 15 Aug 2008, 10:28, closed)

Lance?
... "think Lance in 'Neighbours' when he collects all those cricket stats"...
the most random and best metaphor ever! Congratulations.
(Fully Goyle what?, Mon 18 Aug 2008, 14:28, closed)