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Alcoholic Oreos, for when you can’t vomit fast enough!
12:32 pm



As a connoisseur of disgustingly sweet margaritas—with a young adulthood lubricated by MD 20/20 not so far back in my rear view mirror, no less—I’m not one to turn up my nose at a dessert-oriented booze-stuff. Alcoholic Oreos however, are clearly a monument to man’s arrogance and shall someday be punished by an angry God. This sinister aberration—the unholy creation of a mad scientist, no doubt—is made by combining the liquor of your choice with Oreo pudding mix, scraping the filling off some Oreos, and spooning the alcoholic mixture betwixt the newly emptied cookie halves.

After that, I suppose you just start wolfing down these bad boys like you’ve given up on life—or maybe just cut out the middleman and just throw them directly into the toilet?

Either way, it’s a race between diabetes and alcohol poisoning—may the best death win!

Via Foodbeast

Posted by Amber Frost | Discussion
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‘The Gourmet Cokebook: A Complete Guide to Cocaine,’ 1972
11:53 am



I stumbled upon a reference to this marvelous book The Gourmet Cokebook: A Complete Guide to Cocaine, and I instantly knew I had to have it. I’ve never done cocaine, so how else am I supposed to learn about it, aside from watching Goodfellas or listening to Sticky Fingers?

The Gourmet Cokebook was published in 1972. There is conspicuously no author information provided, but the name “Daniel Chasin” appears on the copyright page, which was either a piece of misdirection or undermined the purpose of avoiding the attention of the authorities. I don’t know who Daniel Chasin is, but a Daniel Chasin is credited as acting on the movie Hussy from 1980, and a Daniel Chasin is also credited with writing and directing the 2003 It’s Tough Being Me, apparently a mockumentary about the inventor of the “Fart Machine,” which I suddenly absolutely HAVE to see. I know it’s a longshot, but I really hope those are all the same person.

The publishing company of The Gourmet Cokebook is listed as “White Mountain Press,” which I find hilarious and perfect. The book cost $2.95 at the time, which I know because the price is printed in rather large letters on the back. It has that Loompanics feel of a semi-clandestine operation designed to teach you how to pick locks or make a fake passport.

In truth, the idea of a “Gourmet Cokebook” is hilarious but in principle, the idea isn’t so bad. As the author (Chasin?) points out, there really wasn’t any proper resource around if you wanted to find out more about the drug—the authorities certainly weren’t going to help. There wasn’t any Internet, of course. The book is mostly sensible and helpful, supplying information about the history of the drug and some nuts and bolts information. But in 1972 cocaine was a new drug for mainstream America, and it would take a decade or so for the down sides of its excesses to become plain to all. The book has an idealistic edge to it that doesn’t sit well with the aura that surrounds cocaine today. There’s an appendix at the end addressing the relationship between cocaine and sex, and to the author’s credit the single paragraph is quite up-front about the fact that after excessive use, “the strong sexually stimulative nature of the drug changes to one of frustration, where erections and orgasms become almost impossible.”

Here are a few pages from the book. The bit that opens chapter 2 is an amazing piece of coke-writing that I love. Click on the image for a larger version.







Posted by Martin Schneider | Discussion
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Forty glorious minutes of seedy footage from Times Square in the early 1980s
11:51 am


Times Square
Charlie Ahearn

Everyone agrees that the changes that occurred in Times Square during the early 1990s were emblematic for the city, regardless of what you make of it. For tourists and the local suburbanites, cleaning up Times Square was a prerequisite to visit. For many Manhattanites, the signs portended a neutered, sterile city geared to the wealthy and lacking all noteworthy spark or grit. The best treatment of the changes in Times Square is most likely Samuel Delany’s 1999 meditation Times Square Red, Times Square Blue, a book that my friend Lawrence Daniel Caswell has urged me to read but I haven’t gotten around to yet. (Do check out Caswell’s account, told in comix format, of the meaning of Delany’s book as applied to Cleveland, courtesy of that city’s Scene alt-weekly a couple weeks ago.)

Those who are old enough will remember the enchantingly seedy—and dangerous—Time Square of the Mayor Koch years (ahem, that’s the 1980s in case you didn’t know). I barely caught the tail end of it, starting to hang out in Manhattan in a serious way in 1988, when I was a teenager. But college and travels abroad intervened, and by the time I came back for another look, it was 1995 and Times Square was very, very different. (The vast majority of the shuttering of the smut shops and sex cinemas took place in a matter of months—with movie marquees that had once advertised Cannibal Holocaust and Inside Seka turned over to artist Jenny Holzer for her brand of signature sloganeering. It was not a long drawn-out process.)

Doin’ Time in Times Square, which we found courtesy of Gothamist, is an artful montage of footage that movie director Charlie Ahearn took from his apartment building on 43rd Street. This footage was shot between 1981 and 1983, the exact period during which Ahearn was working on the groundbreaking hip-hop classic Wild Style featuring Fab Five Freddy, Lady Pink, the Rock Steady Crew, and so on. In between the surreptitiously recorded scenes of religious freaks, cops, and a handful of epic, er, disagreements of a physical nature, Ahearn throws in some moments from inside the apartment as his family members celebrate birthdays and the like. A godforsaken New Year’s Eve gets its due as well, no worries.

Doin’ Time in Times Square has been dubbed “the home video from hell” for a reason. It appeared at the New York Film Festival in 1992, and you can get it on DVD here.


Posted by Martin Schneider | Discussion
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‘The Side Effects of the Cocaine’: Mini-comic about David Bowie’s coked-up, paranoid years
10:15 am


David Bowie

Nearly five years ago, in August 2010, Sean T. Collins (writer) and Isaac Moylan (artist) posted “The Side Effects of the Cocaine” on a Tumblr dedicated for the purpose. It had as a subtitle, “David Bowie 01 April 1975-02 February 1976,” which puts us squarely in the Thin White Duke era, of course, covering Station to Station (the title of the comic comes the title track of that album), Nicolas Roeg’s The Man Who Fell to Earth, Bowie’s appearance on Soul Train, Bowie’s Playboy interview, conducted by Cameron Crowe, who also wrote “Ground Control to Davy Jones,” a profile on Bowie for Rolling Stone that appeared in February 1976. As Peter Bebergal wrote in his excellent book Season of the Witch: How the Occult Saved Rock and Roll, “When a nineteen-year-old Cameron Crowe visited David Bowie for a Rolling Stone magazine interview in 1975, he found a coked-out Bowie lighting black candles to protect himself from unseen supernatural forces outside his window” of his home in Hollywood.

In that Playboy interview Bowie made some comments about the appeal of fascism that would get him into trouble:

Television is the most successful fascist, needless to say. Rock stars are fascists, too. Adolf Hitler was one of the first rock stars. ... Look at some of his films and see how he moved. I think he was quite as good as Jagger. It’s astounding. And, boy, when he hit that stage, he worked an audience. Good God! He was no politician. He was a media artist himself. He used politics and theatrics and created this thing that governed and controlled the show for those 12 years. The world will never see his like. He staged a country.

Bowie’s diet during this period was famously red peppers, milk, and cocaine, with more than a soupçon of fame and paranoia.

It’s one of Bowie’s best and most interesting periods—Station to Station is my favorite Bowie album—and in “The Side Effects of the Cocaine” Collins and Moylan take a peek at the romantic/fucked-up mythos of that period. What is the significance of the dates April 1, 1975-February 2, 1976? Well, April 1, 1975 was the date that Bowie severed ties with MainMan, Tony Defries’ management company, and it’s that scene that kicks us off in the comic. On February 2, 1976 was the start of his Isolar tour, in Vancouver, British Columbia, which ends the comic. You can read an account of that show by Jeani Read under the title “Sinatra Having a Bad Dream,” which presumably ran in the Vancouver Sun the next day (but I don’t know this):

Bowie performances are-have been-legendary for being massively orchestrated orgies of visual and musical sensationalism. Which makes the current offering the biggest no-show of his career. And possibly the best. The thing was absolutely brilliant, maybe for its sheer audacity than anything else, but brilliant nonetheless.

Dressed in black 40’s style vest and pants, white French-cuff shirt, edge of blue Gitanes cigarette pack sneaking out of his vest pocket. Posturing-a naked kind of elegance now, brittle and brave-in front of a bare essential band of guitars, keyboards, drums and bass, on a bare black stage in the bare glare of white-only stage and spots. Looking about as comfortable as Frank might fill-in as lead singer for Led Zeppelin, and even within that assuming total control over the proceedings.Bowie has always said that on stage he feels like an actor playing the part of the rock star.

Collins and Moylan take a slice-of-life approach with Bowie’s life, with the proviso that his life wasn’t anything like a normal person’s at this time. Towards the end some of the panels feature Bowie making utterances from his Playboy interview.

Click here to read the whole thing.






Here’s “Station to Station” being rehearsed in Vancouver prior to the Isolar tour in 1976, for those who want to hear the title line. Note that Bowie forgets the lyrics, but the band soldiers on:


Posted by Martin Schneider | Discussion
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Buy a ‘mask’ weed pipe from the guy who originally played Jason Voorhees in ‘Friday the 13th’
09:55 am

Pop Culture

Friday the 13th
Jason Voorhees

In the pantheon of “milking decades of relevance out of a single brief role in a movie,” I submit for your consideration Ari Lehman. Lehman played the role of “Jason Voorhees” in Friday the 13th—you can even look it up. He never wore the famous hockey mask, he played Jason as a younger person—in the scene he is shown emerging from a lake. He never played Jason in any of the ... however many movies followed, there were a lot of them.

Lehman is in a heavy metal band called—you guessed it—First Jason. (Fair warning: Clicking on that link will force the hard rock strains of First Jason’s “Soul Seller” on your ears, which never, ever did anything to you.)

On his website you can buy a “Jason mask glass pipe” for $50—if you would like Lehman’s autograph “in permanent Titanium ink,” then the price is $65.

Be one of the first to own this first piece in a line of Quality Glassware from Ari Lehman and Horror Glass. Each piece handblown and decorated in Heavyweight Glass by one of the best shops in the USA $50 + Shipping. Ari Lehman the First Jason Voorhees from “Friday the 13th” will Autograph your pipe in permanent Titanium Ink for an additional $15. ORDER NOW!!! JASON MASK GLASS PIPES MEASURE AROUND 5” BY 1.5” MADE IN USA!!!

First Jason will be performing on Friday, March 6th, 2015 at Wizard World Presents Bruce Campbell Horror Fest, Donald E. Stephens Convention Center, 9291 Bryn Mawr Avenue, Rosemont, IL 60018

Here’s a brief clip from Friday the 13th, the 2009 remake, in which some poor sap meets his untimely demise because he comes across some cannabis plants in the woods. 

Posted by Martin Schneider | Discussion
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‘Sick Drugs Stunt’: That time when Pulp were ‘Sorted for E’s & Wizz’

There are not many pop lyricists as good as Jarvis Cocker. Listen to the best of his solo work or the songs written with Pulp and you’ll hear a man who eavesdrops on life and turns the everyday into poetic gold.

When he started, Jarvis had a romanticized view of the writer’s life—the noble poet ensconced in some distant high tower contemplating his own suffering and angst. This all changed after a brief spell in hospital when he tuned into the conversation of his fellow patients and found their lives and tales to be more fascinating than his own. It changed the way Jarvis wrote his lyrics—changing from songs of myself to songs of experience.

When Pulp headlined at Glastonbury in 1995, Jarvis explained his inspiration for the band’s new single:

“‘Sorted for E’s and Wizz’ is a phrase a girl that I met in Sheffield once told me… and she went to see The Stone Roses at Spike Island and I said “What do you remember about it?”. And she said, “Well there were all these blokes walking around saying ‘Is everybody sorted for E’s and wizz?’” And that’s all she remembered about it and I thought it was a good phrase.”

‘Drugs: Pulp Fiction’—NME fire an early warning shot about ‘Sorted…’.
When Pulp released the “Sorted for E’s & Wizz” as a double-A side with “Mis-Shapes” in September 1995, there was a sense that “Sorted…” would have the curtain-twitchers of Tunbridge Wells scratching angry letters to the papers. But as it turned out, it wasn’t the lyrics or the song’s title that saw a tabloid hate campaign launched against Pulp, but rather the single’s sleeve that caused a furore, as music paper Melody Maker explained at the time:

The cover of the single features a photograph of a page from a magazine folded into the shape of a speed wrap. No drugs are shown on the sleeve. The inside booklet features a series of origami-style diagrams showing how to fold a piece of paper to make a speed wrap. Again, drugs are neither mentioned nor shown. However, under pressure from retailers and Island Records, a new, plain white sleeve has been printed.

The press denounced the cover as a “sick drugs stunt,” and the Daily Mirror ran a campaign to ban the single claiming the band were “offering teenage fans a DIY guide on hiding illegal drugs.”

Exhibit A: The offending drug wrap cover.
I think it fair to suggest that most teenagers or twenty-something Pulp fans in the 1990s already knew how to make a drug wrap, because everyone was sorted for E’s, wizz, coke and anything else you could get your jammy little mits on during that decade—and this includes a whole tier of hypocritical Fleet Street journalists and TV producers, who snorted in their executive toilets but damned users in print and picture. Right or wrong, it was just the way it was, and Pulp’s song reflected the ubiquitousness of that culture.

But the Daily Mirror wasn’t just content with keeping down some working class pop stars, their journalists cruelly phoned a father whose son had died from taking ecstasy, and used his experience to damn the band. Classy.
It forced Pulp to change the single’s cover and opt for a clever and rather tasteful knitting pattern design for the song “Mis-Shapes.”

As Jarvis explained the change was more about giving people the chance to hear the song than just giving in to the ire of a few media pundits. In an interview with the Melody Maker, he discussed what happened:

When did you first become aware that the Mirror was going to run with the story?

Jarvis Cocker: It was about half past 10 on Tuesday night. It was my birthday. Usually I would be out on my birthday, but I wasn’t that particular night, and I got a call saying it probably was gonna happen. The next thing I heard about it was my mother calling up at quarter past 10 the next morning, saying breakfast TV and various people had been ringing her up trying to get my number and trying to get her to make a statement about it, and stuff. But me mum’s alright, she’s not daft, so she didn’t say anything to them.

It surprised me, cos the thing that I was anticipating having trouble with was getting the record played on the radio. I’d been told that, because it mentioned drugs, they wouldn’t touch it with a barge pole. They wouldn’t listen to it, and so they wouldn’t realise that it was just a song about drugs. It wasn’t saying drugs are fantastic. So, you know, I thought we were home and dry, but then they started taking exception to the sleeve. It’s stupid, cos that’s basically an origami diagram. Origami does not lead to drug addiction, as far as I know - I might be wrong. Nowhere on the sleeve does it say, ‘Put your drugs in this handy container’. People say it’s obvious what it’s for, but it’s them who’ve spelt it out. It’s like saying if you have a picture of a gun on a record cover, that means you’re gonna go out and shoot people. The subject matter of the song is about drugs, so it’s appropriate that it has drug related imagery.

Any road, the Daily Mirror took it upon themselves to ring up the Association Of Police Officers and get their opinion on it. It was kind of weird, cos they rang back and said they thought the song was great and they had no problem with it, but they thought the sleeve was bad. That was a problem for us, cos basically that could have led to it being banned from a lot of shops. So I thought to myself, I think it’s an important song for people to hear, and if the sleeve is gonna get in the way of people hearing the record, I don’t want that. I’ve been quite angry today cos there’s all this stuff to do with the chart people and all this daft formatting business, and they’re saying if you change the sleeve then it’s another format so it’s not eligible for the charts any more.”

More from the Melody Maker:

Ironically, the pre sales on the single were already well over 200,000 before its release on Monday - the biggest advance figure in Island Records’ history, according to the label’s marketing director, Nick Rowe. Regardless of the tabloid reaction, with Sorted For E’s & Wizz, Pulp seem to have tapped into the wider debate going on in the media concerning drug use in Britain. Recent examples being Channel 4’s ‘Pot Night’ and the current series, ‘Loved Up’.

Jarvis Cocker: I’m not saying I did it cos I thought we could open up a forum for discussion, but I think the drugs thing in Britain now is something that people can’t ignore any more. So many people are doing it you can’t just say it’s these fringe elements and they should be rehabilitated. People are just doing it on a recreational basis and treating it in the same way as they treat drinking or having some fags, so you can’t just say everybody who does it is an evil monster, and you can’t just like shut your ears to it every time somebody mentions it. There’s got to be some kind of a change in attitude to it. That’s why I thought it was great that it got played on the radio, cos that to me showed that there had been a change in attitude to drugs.”

Exhibit B: The offending diagram showing how to make a wrap.
Despite all the unnecessary hoo-hah about nothing much in particular, “Sorted for E’s & Wizz”/“Mis-Shapes” went on to hit the number two spot in the UK pop singles charts.

Below Pulp premiere “Sorted for E’s & Wizz” at Glastonbury 1995.

Posted by Paul Gallagher | Discussion
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‘Degenerate Art’: If you smoke grass from glass, watch this fantastic film on the art of glass pipes
11:25 am



Degenerate Art: The Art and Culture of Glass Pipes is a fascinating look at what goes into our beloved glass paraphernalia… I mean, not literally what goes in to it, but rather the history, industry and the artisans that make the ornate and beautiful objects from which we toke. In fact, there’s surprisingly little reference to pot for a documentary about glass pipes—this film is 100% all about the art, though it can’t ignore the fact that the industry remains besieged by archaic drug laws that leave pipes legally precarious, if not technically illegal in some municipalities.

In the beginning, there was Bob Snodgrass, a hippie glassblower who stumbled on a technique that left his pieces changing color after repeated use—this is the brilliant blue that you may have seen bloom over time on a pipe. Bob’s pipes quickly became a hit in the parking lot of Grateful Dead shows, (okay, some stereotypes are true), and pretty soon, merely owning a “Snoddy” wasn’t enough. Bob began to attract apprentices; thus, an innovative generation of glass pipe-makers was borne in Eugene, Oregon.

As techniques and materials diversified, designs became more complex; the psychedelic, mystical hallmark of a simple glass pipe began to flourish into something more closely resembling Art Nouveau—some of them look like they could have been designed by Tiffany. Of course different regions began developing their own styles, many of which eschewed their hippie roots altogether. I’m partial to the irreverent, modern, NYC designs, like the above Warholian Sherlock pipe, and the adorable frosted “honeybears”—a tongue-in-cheek nod to the old DIY classic.

Unfortunately, the rise in popularity of glass pieces coincided with an attempt to extend the war on drugs to the Internet by then Attorney General John Ashcroft. In 2003, armed with a conveniently vague definition of what legally constitutes “drug paraphernalia,” Operations Pipe Dreams And Headhunter ran massive busts on both manufacturers and distributors. Merchandise and assets were seized, businesses were sunk, fines were levied and people (including Tommy Chong!) went to federal prison, all under the premise that selling pipes was tantamount to trafficking drugs. Much of the law surrounding glass pipes remains indistinct, and many glass artists and head shops remain at risk.

A one-of-a-kind piece by famed glass artist Robert Mickelsen
The film’s second conflict is the ambivalence of the glass artists themselves toward the pipe as a subject; some are perfectly happy to be creating a functional object, while others long to work work on non-pipe glass art. Many seem to find a balance by paying the bills with pipes, but do other glass work in their spare time. Attitudes of glass artists who do not make pipes are similarly varied, with one asking out loud, “why does it have to be a pipe?” then acknowledging that his aversion may be snobbish. Like all of the non-pipe making glass artists interviewed, he would never deny the artistry and innovation he sees in so many pipes.

Weed is a drug that lends itself to socialization, specialization and history, and the glass artists of Degenerate Art (many of whom are downright charming stoners themselves), are the perfect guides through the world of pipes. You can watch the film on Netflix, or free on Hulu, here.

Posted by Amber Frost | Discussion
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Booze shoes: FINALLY liquor-concealing lace-ups! (Unfortunately they’re terrible)
07:52 am


Johnny Walker

As a lover of both drugs and fashion, the idea of booze-filled shoes fulfills a sort of James Bond fantasy of mine, wherein one—that would be me—gets to pretend they’re being classy, but ultimately they’re just getting secretly, stylishly sloshed. Unfortunately, these “Johnnie Tan Leather Brogues” fail in both form and function. First of all, the shoes do not conceal the liquor! Not only is there a peekaboo window on the bottom off the heel, the neck of the mini-bottles poke out from the back! For $489, I want to be able to go to church in those things!

There are aesthetic issues too. The shoes are a promotion for Johnnie Walker (Scottish shoes for Scottish whisky), and while the classic shape of the shoe is pretty unobjectionable, the branding is really heavy-handed. In addition to two mini-bottles of liquor sticking out from your feet, you got the “JW” in large, high-contrast stitching on the back heel, plus the Johnnie Walker “Striding Man” logo on the outer heel. Even if I liked Scotch (which I strongly suspect is actually just a plot to pour bog water into good whisky), I think this would be a little too much of a “walking” advertisement for most people (get it?).

I’ll bet I could produce something more covert (and cuter) by hollowing out a pair of wedges for mini-flasks (and at less than half the price!), but if you’re willing to forgo subtlety altogether, may I suggest a jaunty chapeau de la brewski instead?




Posted by Amber Frost | Discussion
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High as shit journalist giggles helplessly in front of a big pile of burning drugs
08:37 am



Here’s something they don’t teach in journalism school: How to report on the impromptu disposal of high-grade narcotics while you have the biggest contact high on the planet Zartron-9. This exact situation happened to respected BBC reporter Quentin Sommerville four years ago while taping a report in front of a burning pile of “eight and a half tons of heroin, opium, hashish, and other narcotics.” As you’ll see in the video, his conduct was as professional as one could possibly expect under the circumstances.

On Monday he tweeted the clip with the following message: “Dear tweeps, it’s been a year of bullets & bloodshed. You’ve earned a xmas laugh, at my expense.” In the video Sommerville repeatedly tries to tape a news report on the burning drugs but can’t keep a straight face. He later took the video down, probably due to copyright issues, but the video has since surfaced elsewhere.

According to a BBC spokesperson, “The video of Quentin corpsing, which has now been deleted, was posted in the spirit of a blooper. ... It was filmed four years ago—it hasn’t been seen before and was never broadcast.”

Posted by Martin Schneider | Discussion
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Psychedelic sex education video for kids
07:06 am


kids tv
sex education

I’m staunchly supportive of early sex education, I’m certainly all for childhood body positivity—especially in these days of surgical and Photoshop fantasy—and I also don’t think the efficacy or value of children’s programming should me measured by its appeal to adults—sometimes kids shows are visually and aurally lurid to compete with a clamorous world (also, a lot of kids just have bad taste at that age). However, the body positive kids’ sex education web show “Baby! Love Your Body!really challenges my allegiance to a carefree and liberated vision of childhood. It’s intended for children as young as three, but maybe it shouldn’t be?

Borne of energetic French feminists “Fannie Sosa” and “Poussy Draama” (who—shocker—both belong to an art collective called School of No Big Deal), “Baby! Love Your Body!” is what happens when the impetus for cultural liberalism—apparently at all costs—supersedes all instinct for appealing to a popular audience. It starts with a value-neutral tour of vaginal slang, with all your favorites included. Then it makes a quick left turn with two people dressed up as raver vaginas. From there we see some confusingly metaphorical portrayals of sex and masturbation interpreted with erratic dancing, and then it just completely abandons narrative with a “Through the Looking Glass” love canal adventure. Yes… someone enters a vagina and a psychedelic journey ensures.

There is only one episode so far, but it’s been done in English and in French—I’ve blessed you all with the disorientingly English-dubbed version below. The tone is manic with the sort of exhausting, heavy-handed enthusiasm and good cheer that afflicts so much children’s programming these days, but I could see kids responding well to it even if I didn’t. I give Fannie and Poussy a hard time, but in spite of some some absurdly prudish backlash, I think the show could actually be useful—if parents can handle the acid-trip presentation. For those of you who might prefer a more sedate teaching tool—may I suggest a nice, sterile anatomy textbook, preferably in Danish.

Posted by Amber Frost | Discussion
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