Here's a scenario for you to ponder: You've just come home from a long day at your shitty job and the only thing on your mind is "relaxing the gentleman's way." You know what I mean. A bit of "the old man shuffling dice." "Cranking the glue gun." "Working the fleshy butter churn." So, what is there for you to choose from to facilitate the free-flying of hot gobbets of DNA? How about this little charmer?

What? You say that's not working for you? Then let's try this posterior-centric offering:

Going from one extreme to another, we have this sensitive examination of cross-cultural communication and ebony-hued masculine equipment that shares much in common with the souvenirs doled out on any given baseball stadium's "bat day" promotional.

If that's not to your liking, there's always the ongoing avalanche of porn parodies to choose from. I was recently hipped to the biker crime drama SONS OF ANARCHY by my old friend Jim Browski, and it's truly great, so a tenderloin version was inevitable. The biker genre has fueled exploitation films and porn (especially in the gay field) since at least the 1960's, and there is much in this latest iteration of the form that could easily be re-dressed (or not) for the adult market.

I posted about this next one earlier this week on Facebook and asked all and sundry if this could be final, concrete evidence that we are truly living in "the last days." Who, I say WHO feels the honest need for the existence of Oprah-based stroke fodder?

And who in their right mind has a need for porn based on a game show that features unfunny '80's comic Howie Mandel, star of WALK LIKE A MAN (1987), one of the worst mainstream films ever made?

I can almost understand how there's a porn version of this late-1970's sitcom classic, what with characters like Bailey and Jennifer to translate to the filthiverse, but I hope and pray there is no fuck scene involving a Les Nessman stand-in.


Since the parodies have clearly bottomed-out this week, there's always the "mature" sub-genre to rely on.

I remember the MILFs from my youth — an era nearly twenty years prior to the invention of the term — being genuinely hot, but that may just have been the perception of a hormone-driven high school kid and the chicks seen on this packaging may be the more realistic representation of what lurked beneath the garments of my friends' moms. (Though not in the case of a friend whose mom was a genuinely smokin'-hot Semitic-looking professional belly dancer. Now, she was mouth-watering!)
And from that sobering thought, here's an even more sobering image and title to contemplate, and from White Ghetto Films, no less:

And with that, I leave you to shiver in the fetal position in the corner of your choosing until next week. Peace out! (Or should that read "piece?")
No comments:
Post a Comment