forgotten/lost/miscellaneous

Posts tagged “70s

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

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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


Readers Wives Polaroids of the 70s/Milano Calibro 9/Cold Flesh the Colour of Potatoes

Make a date with the brassy brides of Britain
The altogether ruder readers’ wives
Who put down their needles and their knitting
At the doorway to our dismal daily lives

The fablon top scenarios of passion
Nipples peep through holes in leatherette
They seem to be saying in their fashion
‘I’m freezing Charlie – haven’t ya finished yet?’

Cold flesh the colour of potatoes
In an Instamatic living room of sin
All the required apparatus
Too bad they couldn’t fit her head in

In latex pyjamas with bananas going ape
Their identities are cunningly disguised
By a six-inch strip of insulation tape
Strategically stuck across their eyes

Wives from Inverness to inner London
Prettiness and pimples co-exist
Pictorially wife-swapping with someone
Who’s happily married to his wrist

John Cooper Clarke

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Milano Calibro 9

Milano calibro 9 is a poliziottesco film written and directed by the Italian crime film specialist Fernando Di Leo in 1972. The film is based on a novel of the same name written by Giorgio Scerbanenco. The soundtrack for the film, Preludio Tema Variazioni e Canzona, is a collaboration album between Luis Enriquez bacalov and the Italian progressive rock group Osanna.

download soundtrack: Milano Calibro 9 -Luis Enriquez Bacalov & Osanna

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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Gray Vegetation/The Terran Trade Authority/The Extra Inch I Was Denied

“Soon silence will have passed into legend.  Man has turned his back on silence.  Day after day he invents machines and devices that increase noise and distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation, meditation…tooting, howling, screeching, booming, crashing, whistling, grinding, and trilling bolster his ego.  His anxiety subsides.  His inhuman void spreads monstrously like a gray vegetation.”

Jean Arp

and I discovered these books in my childhood new-age  library/attached to the protestant church and dentist in town/showing the death of glamour and gold/where we met and played as scouts/fist fights and wrestling I preferrd to football and marching/I allways loved to climb trees/now I get scared/and piles of tin-tin and asterix/led in bed before you knew how fucked the world was/where the only terror was glue sniffers at the park and gas-heads/pre 90s recession/when the world felt like a static safe place/and homes were for forever/and time just ticked on/and Victorian England was terrifying in books and oliver twist/and sibling fights/lego and star wars toys that were better than the films could ever be/forts and bases/before poverty and plain spaghetti every night/maybe an omelette/think I could have grown an extra inch of cock had I not been starved for protein as a child/and when this happenned obsessed with vietnam and don mccullin/I built VC traps/to protect myself/panji stakes and trip wires/the moment of realsation and terror that the world was unstable and cold/that it was your enemy and set on destroying you

never

leaves

me

like

a

rape

victims

memories

 

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download soundtrack: little johnny from the hospital – company flow

if you enjoy this album please obtain a legal copy


Galen Rowell – Western China/Mountains of the Middle Kingdom

a year ago, we meandered through western china/ate dumplings and tsampa/with yaks milk and butter/and tea that tasted of old cheese/and rode horses in the mountains/and breathless up stairs from the altitude/tiny pool halls with broken cues/and snuggled under piles of blankets in ornate rooms all painted wood/and tattered prayer flags flapping in the wind on lonely temples/ and incense sticks thick as john holmes/and twice as long/sky burials we missed eating cucumber in dirt floor houses that smelt of firewood, colours grimy with soot/our hosts trying to arrange marriages with their daughters/and creaky cable cars through the misty rain/and tree tops/ feet hanging down from orange plastic seats/huddled on tiny chairs drinking steaming tea/and rain so soft/ tibetan prayer wheels and tiny villages with watch towers and fields of corn/ and fresh walnuts we smashed open with rocks/noodles in broth and bunches of dried chili hung in doorways/and shirt off cool beers and szechuan hot pots of red oil/sweating in the heat and murk of the whole place/mahjong clattering on fold out wooden tables/and through the chilled plates of strange foods and skewered organs

china

is

still

wild

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Galen Avery Rowell (August 23, 1940 – August 11, 2002) was a noted wilderness photographer and climber. Born in Oakland California, he became a full-time photographer in 1972.


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