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Cock rock: Dig the groovy, sleazy sounds of The Plaster Caster Blues Band
02.12.2018
04:02 pm
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I’m sure that many readers of this blog are familiar with the legendary Plaster Casters, the Chicago groupies who made Plaster of Paris molds of rock star cocks, starting in the late 60s with Jimi Hendrix and later the likes of Jello Biafra and Ariel Pink. There’s even a KISS song about them. But did you know that Cynthia Plaster Caster and her friend Dianne (“the designated giver of blowjobs”) also had an album?

Well they did. Kinda. Sort of. Well not really… Apparently only their name is on it, not their actual voices. I doubt they even got paid for it. It’s a groupie-themed novelty record where unsurprisingly the actual music (a competent group of session players jamming on some highly enjoyable blues-rock) takes a backseat to the album cover and the nudge-nudge-wink-wink song titles which tend to promise a whole lot more than they actually deliver on.
 

 
For instance there’s “Lanoola Goes Limp” (referencing, apparently, an in-joke among the members of Paul Revere & The Raiders) or “Seven Foot Drummer From Fleetwood Mac.” And who wouldn’t want to listen to “Joint Venture” or “You Didn’t Try To Ball Me (For Frank Zappa)”? What about the intriguingly titled “Diane’s Blue Plate Special” (“plating” = “fluffing” in the Plaster Caster vernacular) or “Blues For Big Jimi”?

By the way, it’s almost entirely instrumental. Don’t get me wrong, it’s actually pretty good! If you like “groovy” sounds, I don’t want to scare you off, this might be for you.

The album was produced by music business veteran Bob Thiele and released on his newly launched New York-based Flying Dutchman record label, which mostly released jazz and blues, including important albums by Gil Scott-Heron, Gato Barbieri, Oliver Nelson, Lonnie Liston Smith and Thiele’s wife, pop singer Teresa Brewer. Flying Dutchman also released albums of speeches by Black radicals H. Rap Brown, Angela Davis and cultural critic Stanley Crouch, but nothing else that I am aware of quite like The Plaster Casters Blue Band.

The Girls Together Outrageously this is not. And who would have retailed something like this in 1969? Dirty bookstores? How anyone thought they would make a buck on such a product—I remind you that these are not songs with “dirty” lyrics, but instrumentals—is mystifying, but I applaud this misguided, weirdo effort.

More after the jump…

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Posted by Richard Metzger
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02.12.2018
04:02 pm
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Before dick pics and sexting: How men asked for sex a century ago
01.30.2018
09:58 am
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Before our indulgent misuse of technology made us a tad brutish and unsophisticated in our relationships with each other, men and women once had a form of ritual quaintly called “courtship” where a chivalrous young man was expected to woo a demure young woman with subtly, attention, kindness, and flowers. Such actions were supposed to signal his honorable intentions, trustworthiness, and his reliability to furnish his intended with all that she might require. (Oh, how many poor women fell into a life of drudgery because of that? I wonder.) Of course, these young men would also have their needs but they could only hint at these through the saving grace of innuendo and saucy humor, which made it possible to say one thing and mean something entirely different!

Exhibit A: A set of American postcards dating from 1905 which depicts a young man and the woman of his dreams. These cards were supposed to show our earnest young man’s burning desire to pop the question and ask his fair lady to marry him. But wait, there’s more… These seemingly innocent-looking cards were also a means by which a randy young git could ask his lady friend for his nazzums, his nookie, his how’s your father, his horizontal refreshment, his whoopie, his you know what, you know, get his end away. Of course, women were far too high-minded, civilized, and ever so polite to even know about such things… But...if ever they did, then they’d know only too damn well what his nibs was on about. Indeed, one of these cards does look like it was specifically meant for use by the ladies to send to their beaus in which our eager young heroine suggests that if her reluctant young man would only ask her to marry him, well, then he’ll get it alright.

Though their intention for sex maybe similar, these little cards certainly make a refreshing change from dick pics and unwanted sexting, but plus ca change...
 
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The unsubtle: ‘How about it Kiddo?’
 
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The subtle: Ask me to marry you and you’ll get what you desire.
 
More after the jump…

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Posted by Paul Gallagher
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01.30.2018
09:58 am
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Meet Carol Doda: Pioneering topless dancer & friend of The Monkees (NSFW)
01.18.2018
10:41 am
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Exotic dancer Carol Doda held up by Peter Tork of The Monkees, and surrounded by the rest of the band (Davy Jones, far left, Michael Nesmith, left back, and Micky Dolenz, right) in 1968.
 
If you were coming of age in San Francisco in the 60s, you were probably swept up in a lot of things, including perhaps the scandalous news reported in June of 1964 about a woman by the name of Carol Doda. Doda was an exotic dancer who took off her top during a performance at the Condor Club (which also employed a young Sly Stone for a short time) in the San Francisco area of North Beach while on top of a piano. Why was this such big news you ask? Well, Doda has been credited by many as one of the first dancers to perform without her top in the U.S., making her a pioneer in the field. According to an interview with the New York Times in 1988, Doda says she was handed a topless bathing suit (a so-called “monokini” designed by Rudi Gernreich) and was told this would be her new “costume.” Doda mused about being “really stupid” but adding if someone told her to do something, she “did it.”

While this would be more than enough to propel Doda to stardom, she would further capitalize on her worldwide notoriety by injecting her breasts with silicone at the behest of her managers at the Condor Club. In twenty weeks and as many silicone injections, Doda’s bust went from a 34B to a 44DD for a mere 1,500 bucks. Soon newspapers were referring to Doda’s boobs as the “the new Twin Peaks of San Francisco.” However, not everyone embraced San Francisco’s topless establishments and at some point in the year following Doda’s topless debut, San Fran’s mayor at the time John F. Shelley made the following statement—which is unintentionally hilarious—about what was behind the alleged rise in crime in the North Beach neighborhood:

‘‘The topless craze is at the bottom of the whole problem.’‘

As funny as Shelley’s war cry on boobs was, it was followed the next day with action by the police who hit up different topless establishments, arresting the dancers for “lewd conduct” including Carol Doda. The crackdown wouldn’t stick, Doda and others were acquitted, and the topless craze spread like lightning throughout North Beach, which would soon welcome other topless spots such as an ice cream stand and a very busy shoeshine business. A few years later in 1969, Doda would take it all off much to the ire of California Governor Ronald Reagan who granted communities the legal right to stop topless clubs and such from opening in their area. Reagan launched his crusade against the topless industry shortly after winning the governorship in 1966.  There was also an effort to try to ban the word “topless” for use on signage which failed.
 

Carol Doda proudly displaying the newspaper headline regarding her acquittal outside of the Condor.
 
In between all this Doda found herself cast in a role which would earn her a lifetime of recognition by joining the cast of the 1968 film Head (co-produced by Jack Nicholson)—the fantastically weird flick starring The Monkees, with Frank Zappa, Annette Funicello, and Doda as Sally Silicone. Doda would continue to perform sans clothing for over twenty years before retiring from the business, though she would remain a local fixture in SF. She fronted a band called the Lucky Stiffs in the 90s and later ran her own intimate apparel shop, Carol Doda’s Champagne and Lace Lingerie Boutique. She would continue making appearances (now clothed) at various clubs in North Beach until 2009 before passing away at the age of 78 on December 9th, 2015.

I’ve posted photos of Doda doing her thing below, as well as a few choice photos of her with her darling Monkees. Most images are NSFW.
 

Micky Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, and Carol Doda in a scene from ‘Head.’
 

A photo of Doda from September 7, 1968, in Ramparts magazine, accompanying an article called “Bugging Cops.” The article provided a detailed profile of well-known San Francisco sleuth, Hal Lipset, an expert in miniature electronic surveillance.
 

Doda showing off her newly augmented breasts.
 

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Posted by Cherrybomb
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01.18.2018
10:41 am
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Bond girls are forever: Seductive trading cards featuring 007’s femme fatales


A trading card featuring Swiss actress Ursula Andress as Honey Ryder in 1962’s ‘Dr. No.’
 

“James? Take me ’round the world one more time.”

—Holly Goodhead (played by actress Lois Chiles) in Moonraker, 1979

The cultural phenomenon surrounding fictional British Secret Service agent James Bond started in 1953 when author Ian Fleming’s first Bond novel Casino Royale was published. Over the course of the next 65 years, Fleming’s books and short stories featuring the exploits of James Bond would become blockbuster films which made actors like Sean Connery and Daniel Craig into international stars. As legendary as Bond is, the women 007 found himself entangled with (in more ways than one) are just as legendary.

In 2003 trading card maker Rittenhouse put out a set of Bond trading cards called Bond Girls are Forever. Each pack contained twenty different black and white images of Bond girls along with their character name and another photo on the back. This collection was a companion set to the super groovy lenticular card set Women of James Bond in Motion. Additional cards related to the series saw the light of day in other Bond-themed card sets such as The Quotable James Bond, Dangerous Liaisons, and The Complete James Bond.

Here’s the thing—if you’re into collecting trading cards some of the ones I’ve mentioned in this post can be elusive and expensive once/if you track them down. This is especially true when it comes to the Bond Girls Are Forever set which I’ve seen going for nearly 500 bucks on eBay. In the case of Ursula Andress and her famous white bikini from Dr. No, Andress’ single card can run you more than 70 dollars—or roughly the price of an actual bikini.

A selection of Bond girl trading cards below—some are slightly NSFW.
 

The iconic Grace Jones as May Day from 1985’s ‘A View to a Kill.’
 

Bonita the belly dancer at the El Scorpio night club played by actress Nadja Regin in the pre-title sequence of the 1964 James Bond film ‘Goldfinger.’
 
More after the jump…

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Posted by Cherrybomb
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01.15.2018
10:49 am
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Dames, Dracula, & the devil: The erotic fumetti of Italian artist Alessandro Biffignandi
01.12.2018
10:51 am
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Erotic horror-inspired artwork by Italian artist Alessandro Biffignandi.
 
Italian artist Alessandro Biffignandi passed away in January of 2017 a few short months after an incredible book chronicling his vast body of work was released by Korero Press in June of 2016, Sex and Horror: The Art of Alessandro Biffignandi. You can also thank Korero for the entertaining book which preceded Biffignandi’s, Sex and Horror: The Art of Emanuele Taglietti, another master of the genre and if I understand correctly—and I hope I do—it appears Korero intends to keep publishing other books under their “Sex and Horror” banner. This is all pretty fantastic news if you enjoy the explicit classic sleaze which defines Italian fumetti (or comics) from artists like Biffignandi, Taglietti, Stefano Tamburini and Tanino Liberatore (who created comic series RanXerox praised by director Guillermo del Toro), and Enzo Sciotti.

After developing a love-affair with comic books as a kid, Biffignandi had the good fortune become a student of Averardo Ciriello, a very busy, highly influential Italian artist (with a very dirty mind) who is historically best known for his work creating movie posters (approximately 3,000 over his career) for Italian cinema. After studying with Ciriello, Biffignandi was personally recruited by the largest movie poster production house in Italy (at the time) Studio Favalli run by Augusto Favalli. Sometime in the 1960s, Biffignandi relocated to Milan where he worked for prestigious Studio Creazioni D’Ami which provided artwork to publishers in the UK and France. Biffignandi also found work with another publisher, Edifumetto (who also widely used artwork by Emanuele Taglietti) and his horror-inspired erotica would soon be seen in magazines such as Sukia, Zora, Wallestein il Mostro, and other fumetti-style comics.

Before you start scrolling through the images in this post, I’d like to share a couple of things. First, and I’ll give it to you gently, it seems that Biffignandi had a thing for Disney characters and books as a child and his work is known to reflect this interest at times. So, you know, you just might see your old pal Peter Pan doing things that only a real boy could. Could be worse. Also important to note, especially if you are not familiar with this genre, is Biffignandi’s work is somewhat explicit and pretty much all that follows is very NSFW. YAY!
 

 

 
Much more after the jump…

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Posted by Cherrybomb
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01.12.2018
10:51 am
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‘The Concrete Jungle’: The long-awaited return of the ‘women in prison’ cult classic
01.10.2018
09:39 pm
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The Concrete Jungle,’ (1982) 22x31” Original Thai poster. Artist: Larry Salk
 
Like so many 1970s tots with a taste for lurid, inappropriate, forbidden thrills, in print and onscreen, I count as a key corruptive influence the most notorious Charlie’s Angels episode from its tawdry 10 pm-time-slot Farrah Fawcett first season, “Angels In Chains.” With its sweaty redneck county work-farm setting, menacing guest villain corrections officers—Anthony James, the terrifying hearse-drive from Burnt Offerings, and Mary Woronov as butch sadist Maxine, forcing the undercover Angels to openly shower before applying delousing spray to their naked bodies — and shocking sexual slavery twist, this sordid summer ’77 rerun minted legions of instant Women-In-Prison devotees.  But since tween access to grindhouse gold like Barbed Wire Dolls, SS Experiment Love Camp, Escape From Hell & Wanda the Wicked Warden was sadly impossible, I had to wait over five long years to experience the dawn of the 1980s surprise American exploitation WIP resurgence with The Concrete Jungle.  And it was so, so worth it.

Produced by Billy Fine, who followed up with the star-packed, much more infamous (and slapdash) Chained Heat in 1983, Concrete Jungle benefits hugely from the assured direction of underrated trash-film expert Tom DeSimone, whose resume not only comprised the zero-budget 3-D 1972 softcore bait & switcher Prison Girls, R-rated drive-in/cable megabits like Chatterbox (the talking-vagina comedy with adorable Candice Rialson), Linda Blair’s slasher Hell Night, and later, the rollicking Wendy O Williams/Pat Ast/Sybil Danning parody Reform School Girls, but a slew of all-male XXX movies, including Heavy Equipment, the first gay porn feature in 3-D.   

In DeSimone’s professional hands, Jungle starts off like a slick network TV movie but quickly plunges into hard-bitten, gritty sleaze enacted by a glorious, well-cast, thoroughly committed ensemble led by Happy Birthday To Me and soon-to-be Young and the Restless star Tracey Bregman as “Cherry,” the new fish, a fresh-faced innocent ski-bunny turned unwitting cocaine smuggler; Jill St John, the imperious, glamorous, oh-so-crooked warden; classy dame TV-staple Nita Talbot as the crusading reformer who thinks Jill and her tactics stink to high heaven; and the deliciously diabolical Barbara Luna, another daytime diva, oozing silky malevolence as Cat, the evil queen bee of the cellblock who sashays around in designer jeans, pulling the other gals’ puppet-strings by supplying (and withholding) narcotics, pimping the hot ones (“You’ll fuck who I tell ya to fuck!”) to rapey muscle-daddy Officer Stone, and unleashing her twitchy, wild-eyed blonde henchwoman Icy whenever a wayward prisoner needs bashing or killing, which is often.

As played by the amazing June Barrett with such gleeful, star-quality, damaged ferocity, Icy manages to steal scenes from a memorable gallery of supporting skanks, including thuggish matron Kendal Kaldwell (best known as the ample bikinied lesbo producer coaxing hapless brilliant screenwriter Pia Zadora into a hot tub at the end of Lonely Lady); foul-mouthed shit-starter Aimee Eccles (as Spider), and even raunchy redhead Carole Ita White—who got fired from Laverne & Shirley when all the laughs she was getting as nemesis-nasty Rosie Greenbaum sent Penny Marshall whining to her showrunner brother Garry— but went on to become a grindhouse Bette Midler with other cherished appearances in Chained Heat, Hellhole, The Naked Cage and Savage Streets

DeSimone keeps tension simmering right at the boiling point, always keeping us fearful for cutie-pie Cherry, while choosing inspired moments to whip things into a filthy froth, like when he intercuts between sexual assault and childbirth, the mother’s shrieks, the rapist’s groans and the wails of the victim (Camille Keaton, who got plenty of practice as the epically poked lead of I Spit On Your Grave) blending into an unforgettable aria of tastelessness.  And when Cherry’s pushed too far — beaten, tormented, molested (off-camera) by Muscle Daddy, friends whacked — and, innocence broken forever, likewise snaps the teeth from her rattail comb, then squeezes her jagged new Clairol-shiv in one hand until blood starts to flow, it’s such s rapturous WIP movie-moment, the ensuing exercise yard riot, a rousing spectacle of mud-wrestling and electrocution, is but icing on a cine-slime cupcake discriminating trash fans may never tire of scarfing.

Not available on US home video since RCA/Columbia’s cruddy-looking VHS tape hit the streets 35 years ago, this essential bitches-behind-bars classic has now received a 2K restoration from the original interpositive with Code Red’s brand-new, sparkling all-region Blu-ray, exclusively available at RoninFlix.com. Aside from the enhanced resolution revealing some shockingly shoddy stunt-double wigging, the only thing wrong with this release (which includes great new interviews with Bregman, DeSimone and co-star Sondra Currie) is the intro with the label’s inexplicably ubiquitous “Banana Man” — an unfunny fixture in desperate need of recasting… or retirement.

Below, a selection of “women-in-prison” movie posters, now on sale for 30% off at Westgate Gallery. Use the code “BF30” at checkout.
 

The Concrete Jungle,’  (1982)  27x39” Original Spanish poster. Artist: Larry Salk
 

Barbed Wire Dolls,’  (1976)  39x55” Original Italian poster. Director: Jess Franco
 
Many more after the jump…

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Posted by Christian McLaughlin
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01.10.2018
09:39 pm
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‘Candy’: a bizarre sex comedy featuring Marlon Brando as a long-haired, sex-crazed psychedelic guru


Marlon Brando explaining to Swedish actress Ewa Aulin how strong his tongue is.
 
As far as movies go, 1968 flick Candy has it all. A star-studded cast comprised of Marlon Brando, Richard Burton, James Coburn, John Huston (playing the head doctor of a mental institution), Walter Matthau, John Astin (best known for his role as Gomez Addams on TV’s The Addams Family), Ringo Starr (as Emmanuel the Mexican gardener) and striking Swedish actress and beauty queen Ewa Aulin. Add a killer soundtrack composed by Dave Grusin which includes The Byrds and Steppenwolf and you have the perfect flick. What else could you possibly need? While I’d venture to say that would be enough for most movie fans to give Candy a whirl, there is so much more to this cult classic than just the Oscar-winning actors in the cast and the movie’s outrageously hot, 23-year-old blonde starlet.

Based on the scandalous 1958 book by Terry Southern and Mason Hoffenberg, Candy is a film centering around Ewa Aulin’s character of Candy Christian—a high school student pursued by pretty much every male who comes into contact with her. In fewer than ten minutes into the movie we meet alcoholic poet MacPhisto, Richard Burton’s character whose prose and persona are so seductive that he causes his female fans to faint. MacPhisto’s dramatic entrance is enhanced by invisible fans that blow his wild hair, long scarf, and cape (!) as he recites a fictional poem Forests of Flesh while a bevy of teenage girls swoon and scream. A few even bend to kiss the stairs that MacPhisto walked on as he exited the lecture hall. At this point, Candy has been rolling for about fifteen minutes, and unless you don’t have a pulse, you’re impossibly hooked and can’t wait to see what happens next. Especially since the sly MacPhisto has managed to make the first pass at Candy by passing her a note requesting her presence in his Mercedes where things get weirder than weird—and that’s all I’m going to say about that.

As the film rolls on, the rest the cast is introduced, like James Coburn who digs into his role as Dr. A.B. Krankheit (a spider monkey specialist and brain surgeon) while John Astin regales us with a constant stream of one-liners from his dual characters of T.M. Christian /Jack Christian, Candy’s father and uncle. The non-stop barrage of bizarre incidents involving Candy and the film’s cast of characters culminates in her meeting spiritual leader Grindl played by Marlon Brando whose “temple” resides in the trailer of a moving truck. Although Brando/Grindl and Candy seem to have a pretty good time, according to the actor (as seen in the 2015 documentary Listen to Me Marlon), Candy was the worst movie he ever made in his life. In an ironic twist, Brando was Candy‘s money-man and he personally helped secure financing for the film as a favor to director Christian Marquand—a close personal friend of his who Brando named his son in honor of. (Marquand was also briefly married to wild child actress Tina Aumont). If you still need to be somehow convinced of Candy‘s many merits, it also contains a nutty scene between 60’s “It Girl” Anita Pallenberg (as Nurse Bullock) and Ewa Aulin that involves a bit of hair pulling. Meow.

I’ve posted some great stills, posters and lobby cards from Candy for you to check out as well as the bonkers trailer for the film which was beautifully restored and released on Blu-ray in 2016 by New York-based film distribution company Kino Lorber.
 

A publicity photo of Marlon Brando and Ewa Aulin for ‘Candy.’
 

 
More eye candy from ‘Candy’ after the jump…

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Posted by Cherrybomb
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01.03.2018
12:22 pm
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Jingle all the way: Joan Collins, Burt Reynolds, & Jayne Mansfield selling sex mags at Christmas
12.22.2017
09:26 am
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Hustler, 1976.
 
I’ve never quite bought into the idea that red is always a color of sex and desire. Not that I give a fuck or have any scientific evidence to back up my uninformed opinion other than the anecdotal prejudice that if red was a color of arousal then we’d all cop off at stop signals and dear old Santa Claus would be a sex god.

Maybe he is.

And maybe this explains why porn mags get into spreading some Christmas cheer every December by getting a little festive with their covers.

Such naive and dot-to-dot thinking led me to browse (ahem—for research purposes…of course!) through a fine selection of vintage, glamor mag covers just to get the inside skinny on how they once celebrated the Holiday Season. For if there is one thing I do know, thanks to analytics, is that our dear readers like stuff that says “NSFW” with a hint of the naughty, the naked, and the red.

So maybe red does mean sex?

I mean just look at the amount of red splashed out on the following selection of covers—it’s enough to give one hypertension. And note too how it was once seemly for megastars like Jayne Mansfield, Burt Reynolds, and Joan Collins to appear on the cover or even naked in the centerfold of such glossy, adult entertainment mags.

And last but certainly not least, these covers offer a potted history of porn mags. From when once adult magazines were about artful erotic photographs and great writing (by the likes of Hunter S. Thompson, George V. Higgins, Norman Mailer, Gore Vidal, interviews with writers like William (Lord of the Flies) Golding, and articles on the threat of the impending devastating weather changes and corruption in politics) the adult mag soon became just a selection of close-up hardcore pix which might not have looked out of place in a medical textbook (Gynecology 101?) and very little readable content. It was, I guess you could say, rather prescient of how our world has moved from text to pictograph and hieroglyph (emoji) via technology.

But, anyway, this is all a by-the-way to sneak in a few saucy vintage covers for your seasonal entertainment.
 
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Joan Collins on the cover of Playboy, Xmas 1983.
 
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Don’t be fooled by technical side of Practical Photography, 1965.
 
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Jayne Mansfield on the cover of Variedades, 1956.
 
More saucy covers, after the jump…
 

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Posted by Paul Gallagher
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12.22.2017
09:26 am
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Erotic illustrations for Baudelaire’s ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’


An illustration from 1935 by Italian-born artist Carlo Farneti for a posthumous edition of Charles Baudelaire’s book of poetry ‘Les Fleurs du Mal.’
 

“That heart which flutters like a fledgling bird,
I shall tear, bleeding, from his breast, to pitch
It blandly in the dust without a word
To slake the hunger of my favorite bitch.”

—a passage from Charles Baudelaire’s poetry book, Les Fleurs du Mal.

When French poet Charles Baudelaire first published his poetry book Les Fleurs du Mal (The Flowers of Evil) in 1857 it caused quite the scandal. Baudelaire, his publisher Poulet Malassis and the book’s printer were all prosecuted for creating “an insult to public decency.” Baudelaire would eventually be convicted on two charges—obscenity and blasphemy. He was also forced to remove several poems from the book when it was republished in 1861. Below is a portion from Les Fleurs du Mal “Une Charogne” (“A Carcass”) in which Baudelaire beautifully romanticizes a decomposing corpse:

“The blow-flies were buzzing round that putrid belly,
From which came forth black battalions
Of maggots, which oozed out like a heavy liquid
All along those living tatters.

Then tell the vermin as it takes its pleasance
And feasts with kisses on that face of yours,
I’ve kept intact in form and godlike essence
Our decomposed amours!”

 
The controversy over Les Fleurs du Mal would eventually lead to the demise of Baudelaire’s career as a poet. Heartbreakingly, Baudelaire would pass away in 1867—ten years after the publication of Les Fleurs du Mal, addicted to opium, penniless and in a state of perpetual paralysis. Les Fleurs de Mal was published yet again in 1868 to include previously unpublished poems written by the poet. This publication would reignite interest in his work which would continue to grow in the years following his death. In 1935 Italian artist Carlo Farneti created a series of evocative illustrations for Les Fleurs du Mal for Parisian bookstore Gibert Jeune. Farneti had relocated to France in 1926 and quickly became a sought-after artist creating illustrations for books by renowned French novelist Émile Zola and Edgar Allen Poe (who Baudelaire referred to as his “twin soul.”) Twelve of Farneti’s exquisite illustrations for Les Fleurs du Mal follow—some are gorgeously NSFW.
 

 

 

 
More after the jump…

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Posted by Cherrybomb
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12.21.2017
01:54 pm
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The technicolor covers of Spanish horror magazine Dossier Negro
12.21.2017
01:41 pm
Topics:
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One of the 217 vibrant covers of pioneering Spanish horror magazine, Dossier Negro.
 
Dossier Negro made its debut in 1968, earning it the distinction of being the first-ever Spanish horror magazine. Staff illustrators were plucked from the young and vibrant local artistic community including Leopoldo Sánchez who at the time was just twenty. Sánchez would go on provide artwork for several influential magazines, including Vampirella and Eerie, and for Marvel Comics.

During its 217 issue run work by other prominent artists would appear in Dossier Negro, such as José Ortiz (Spain), Ernesto “Ernie” Chan (aka Ernie Chua), Frank Frazetta, comic hero Bernie Wrightson (a long-time collaborator of author Stephen King) and comic master Enrique Torres-Prat/Enrich. Initially put out by Ibero Mundial de Ediciones (issues 1-124), the publishing house engaged the services of a fixture of the Spanish comic scene, Josep Toutain Vila (or José Toutain). Toutain would quickly make a connection with Jim Warren of Warren Publishing to license Warren-owned content for use by Dossier Negro as well as other comics from Italy and the UK. Later on, three different publishing houses would continue to provide a home for the wildly popular magazine. Noted in the 2012 book, Spanish Horror Film by Antonio Lazaro-Rebol, Dossier Negro remained a favorite in Spain throughout its twenty-year run which concluded in 1988.

I’ve posted 24 images of cover artwork from Dossier Negro that I know you will dig below. Some are slightly NSFW.
 

 

 

 
More after the jump…

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Posted by Cherrybomb
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12.21.2017
01:41 pm
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