forgotten/lost/miscellaneous

Posts tagged “Colours

3 Decades of Large Breasts: An American Obsession/Is she woman … or animal?/Fascination & Indifference

“Women are always complaining about men’s fascination with breasts. But what if men were absolutely indifferent to breasts? What would women do then with these things that serve one function once or twice in a lifetime, and the rest of the time are just in the way?”

Jonathan Carroll

Some call it the American obsession, but men everywhere recognize the hypnotic allure of a large and shapely breast. In The Big Book of Breasts, Dian Hanson explores the origins of mammary madness through three decades of natural big-breasted nudes. Starting with the World War II Bosom-Mania that spawned Russ Meyer, Howard Hughes’s The Outlaw and Frederick’s of Hollywood, Dian guides you over, around, and in between the dangerous curves of infamous models including Michelle Angelo, Candy Barr, Virginia Bell, Joan Brinkman, Lorraine Burnett, Lisa De Leeuw, Uschi Digard, Candye Kane, Jennie Lee, Sylvia McFarland, Margaret Middleton, Paula Page, June Palmer, Roberta Pedon, Rosina Revelle, Candy Samples, Tempest Storm, Linda West, June Wilkinson, Julie Wills, and dozens more, including Guinness World Record holder Norma Stitz, possessor of the World’s Largest Natural Breasts.

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Russ Meyer – Vixen

Is she woman … or animal?

Download Album Link: Russ Meyers ‘Vixen’ – Original Soundtrack


Jacques Henri Lartigue’s Parisian Women/Curves/Mae West & Edith Piaf

“Curves:  The loveliest distance between two points.”

Mae West

Jacques Henri Lartigue (June 13, 1894 – September 12, 986) was a French photographer and painter.

Born in Courbevoie (a city outside of Paris) to a wealthy family, he is most famous for his stunning photos of automobile races, planes and fashionable Parisian women from the turn of the century.

Although Lartigue occasionally sold his pictures to the press and exhibited at the Galerie d’Orsay alongside Brassaï, Man Ray and Doisneau, his reputation as a photographer was not truly established until he was 69, with a retrospective at the Museum of Modern Art in New York and the publication of a portfolio in Life. He now added his father’s first name to his own surname, becoming Jacques Henri Lartigue. Worldwide fame came three years later with his first book, The Family Album, followed in 1970, by Diary of a Century, conceived by Richard Avedon. In 1975 he had his first French retrospective at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs in Paris. For the rest of his life, Lartigue was busy answering commissions from fashion and decoration magazines.

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Click on Link to Download Soundtrack: The Voice of the Sparrow – Edith Piaf

if you enjoy this album please obtain a legal copy


James Nachtwey War Photography/The Existence of the Human Soul/There are plenty of good reasons for fighting

“There are plenty of good reasons for fighting, but no good reason ever to hate without reservation, to imagine that God Almighty Himself hates with you, too.”

Kurt Vonnegut

James Nachtwey (born March 14, 1948) is an American photojournalist and war photographer. He has been awarded the Overseas Press Club’s Robert Capa Gold Medal five times. In 2003, he was injured by a grenade in an attack on his convoy while serving as aTime contributing correspondent in Baghdad, from which he has made a full recovery.

hard to pick the featured images/as every shot is pure fire/like capa on crack/capturing every aspect of living with violence/squeezing the human condition down to a pin-point of light/the human struggle/sentient bags of translucent tubes, blood, gristle/torn open and spilling like garbage bags/but more importantly/showing such emotion

that

the

human soul

is

an

undeniable

reality

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Bad Girls of the 50s/All-night Joints & All-night Dames/That Cool Cat From Not That Far Back Wants Hotdogs

The TRUCKS that hi-ball thru the night!

The ALL-NIGHT joints of dames and java!

The rough-tough guys and wide-eyed Dolls who get their kicks from BENZEDRINE!

and saturday night  drinks in bars where all the ladies bad dentistry/dolphin and tribal tattoos adorn tired flesh/dirty flat beers with the best company/but me on the sleazier side of drunk/watching karaoke kings and queens/once upon a time I was falling in love/now I’m only falling apart/as the doors lock and the kerry katona iceland treats come out on paper plates/tandoori chicken bites and soggy goujons/the dirtiest tapas you ever saw disappear with drained pints of stale lager/and we three slip away/a blur of taxi rides through the misty streets/into the a.m./where dark rooms shuffle a sinister cabaret of shemales/fags in drag/and a muted hard-on in my trousers/and I can hear the static noise of drunk in my ears/playground legends just tourists in this grim safari/too drunk to be disgusted or to get my dick sucked in the back room/she says she wants it rough/for me to pull her hair/and call her a dirty slut/but that nausea I can’t shake/like the dirt in my belly I can never throw up hard or deep enough to get out/and breakfast fried plantain with scrambled eggs and peppers/and that cool cat from not that far back/wants hot-dogs

so

we

throw

them

in

the

pan

too

 

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download soundtrack: The Fabulous Chordettes – The Chordettes

if you enjoy this album please obtain a legal copy



70s Porn Poster Design/Catholocism/Mr Wankee Man & Me

“I thank God I was raised Catholic, so sex will always be dirty.”

John Waters

and the weekend left me bruised and trampled/paddled by a mistress whose nazi uniform/black strapon and heels/thrashed me on a st andrews cross/and buxom corseted ladies put me in the trampling cage and sat on my face/and put their heels in my mouth/and next to the dance floor a mistress whipped admirers as they lapped at her little pussy through the bars that guarded her/or them/and I thought that whilst that pussy looked good it was maybe riddled with herpes/and my arrogant chin thrust out I drew the line in the sand/and she hit me in the face/and outside the human ashtray/whose burns and ashy grey lips/and sissy boys/where freaks and fingerings/slaps and shuffles/stockings and shoes/breasts constricted in corsets and me drunk/staggering through this/like a half-tranquilised kaiju/riding through the grim carnival like gidrah/stroboscopic lights/and mr wankee man/shuffling dismally/using the least amount of energy and movement possible to slap both thighs with a sore looking penis/in some ketamine disco jiggle/gold lurex leotard/one stocking fallen down/blonde wig and golden mask/but when the mistress prodded my ass with her strappon/I was weary of being thrashed

and

just

wanted

to

get

naked

and

fuck

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nothing is true/persian illuminati/in god we trust

“Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.”

Hassan I Sabbah


Pakistan Circus/The Nonexistent/Argos and Mr. Frosty

By believing passionately in something that still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired.

Franz Kafka

and my parents never took me to the circus/or bought me a mr frosty/but I had buckaroo and operation/which is more than the ethiopian kids in live aid had/as they never knew it was christmas/ but I still wanted these things/and remember when everything you could every want in the world could be found in argos/board games/transformers/robots/lego/and its so cold today, even in bed/ I wish I could sleep a thousand years/and wake up as dust/and there was a kid who came to our school/with air max III/and other cool shit/and cable tv/and poisoned our minds/ to be hungry for things that existed outside the argos world/and we became devils/seduced with new things/and one night at camp we had a fight/and I beat him/but it was a pyric victory/because I still wanted to be him/ later on I heard he burnt his brain cells out on acid/much the same as me/but instead of becoming paranoid, bi-polar and manic like me,

he

just

turned

into

a

dribbling

retard

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download the soundtrack:

circus faux prez beats – odd nosdam

if you enjoy this album please obtain a legal copy

 


Tetsuo/Japanese Monsters/Dinosauroid

 

Utagawa Kuniyoshi (1797-1861) was one of the last great masters of the Japanese ukiyo-e  style of woodblock prints and painting, and is associated with the Utagawa school.

The range of Kuniyoshi’s preferred subjects included many genres: landscapes, beautiful women, Kabuki actors, cats, and mythical animals. He is known for depictions of the battles of samurai and legendary heroes. His artwork was affected by Western influences in landscape painting and caricature.

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Tetsuo: The Iron Man
1. Megatron (05:04)
2. The Sixth Tooth (06:34)
3. Rana-Porosa Porosa I (05:47)
4. Mausoleum (04:16)
Tetsuo II: Body Hammer
5. Lost (06:39)
6. Dinosauroid (03:16)
7. Rana-Porosa Porosa II (01:57)
8. A Burned Figure (04:05)

Soundtrack:  Chu Ishikawa – Tetsuo: The Iron Man

if you like this album please purchase a legal copy


Annie Get Your Gun/Cannibal Holocaust/Night of the Wang

and the porn then was visceral, all meat and potatoes with a side order of meat/todays filth so clinical with rubbery cold flesh, astro glide, the smell of bleached surfaces and antibacterial hand gel/there is no vaginal discharge, stray hairs, wet pussys, just cold lube smeared on cold thighs sickly sweet/a machine pumping out dilated cunts and viagra engorged wangs.

and they asked buttman in a documentary about his fixation with anal, and he said that it was because it was ‘real’ that you get a ‘real’ reaction from the actress/and I like that, porn thats ‘real’/and rocco siffredi still holds the fort down/no antibacterial hand gel or viagra there/the last great porn auteur/dirty anal kelly in rome part 2 his citizen kane.

and I heard about a cocktail, called a mexican hooker, that consists of tequila, tuna brine and tabasco/and thought it sounded quite good/and talking of mexican hookers, if they all looked like jessica alba in the killer inside me/I’d be continually broke/and they don’t understand that casey affleck is the physically small, appearingly mild mannered psychopath that jim thompson captured and characterised in a lot of his books/and played it perfectly.

so enjoy the tattered magazine covers/ranging from sinister to hillarious/with wild typographic design/and semen glazed laminate/and the riz ortolani soundtrack/ecclectic sounds that somehow are never disjointed/so go get your gun and lets christen this evening

the

night

of

the

wang

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soundtrack: Cannibal Holocaust – Riz Ortolani

if you like this album please purchase a legal copy


Alvin Lustig – New Classics Bookjackets – Set of 36

Book jackets artwork from the design legend Alvin Lustig, for the New Classics series. This is the full series from a the New Classics section of the Alvin Lustig website, to view his incredible ads, identities, periodicals, architecture, interiors and more book jacket artwork click on the link bellow.

Alvin Lustig

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“Lustig’s solution of a book jacket problem was seldom a literary solution. He was no verbalizer; as a matter of fact, writing came hard to him. His method was to read a text and get the feel of the author’s creative drive, then to restate it in his own graphic terms. Naturally these reformulations were most successful when there was an identity of interest, but it was remarkable how far he could go on alien ground.

In discussions of values in art the positiveness of his assertions occasionally suggested egotism; he would submit himself to it fully and with humility.I have heard people speak of the “Lustig style” but no one of them has been able to tell me, in fifty words or five hundred, what it was. Because each time, with each new book, there was a new creation. The only repetitions were those imposed by the physical media.”

by James Laughlin, New Directions – Print Magazine, Oct/Nov 1956


Bikers: Colours & Sex

sons of anarchy is kind of like a grubby version of the wonder years; with jax’s soul searching monologues at the end of every episode comparable to kevin arnold’s own insightful and introspective realisations.

kevin and jax’s soliloquies both not only make me want to cave their faces in with my bare fists, but were also cringeworthy to the extent of making me actually ashamed of my species.

the question is,

‘is jax the hamlet of the metrosexual generation?’

the only reasons I’ve watched this show is because of the talents of Ron Perlman, Kim Coates and Bobby Munson. the rest of the show is really kind of lame and/or kind of silly; jax’s consistent childish and self indulgent philosophising, the biker pledge who looks like the cat from coldplay and the soap opera/rape my mum/evil supervillain taking over the town narrative.

as a huge fan of the shield and as having had a long standing interest in biker culture, sons of anarchy was a real disappointment, especially considering the intriguing subject matter, strong cast and the writer/producers previous project.

So, what should it have been like?

It

should

have been

like

this

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