forgotten/lost/miscellaneous

Posts tagged “Design

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

 

click on thumbnails for full-size images

download soundtrack: The Fabulous Chordettes – The Chordettes

if you enjoy this album please obtain a legal copy


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The Deserving World/Guillotines & Firing Squads/A Straight Hit Like Sì-Wŭ-Liù

“Console yourself by remembering that the world doesn’t deserve your affection”

Arthur Schopenhauer

frigid fingers held to the naked light bulb of the lamp for heat/these are frozen days/with prickly heat from space heaters/you run for 40 seconds under the duvet as coins slip through the gaps in the floorboards and the blinds/and for those who sit in large warm houses/with piles of superfluous things/complaining/poor me/like an obese man crying into his ice cream about his weight problem/I want to open his skull with a claw hammer/and their dismal holidays bourgeois versions of package holidays to Greece and Spain/complaining about the service and food/buying tat and crap/disenchanted dinners in tourist haunts/tiny bottles of soap and shampoo never touched/sipping on 3 euro coca-cola from the mini-bar/fenced off from the locals/unaware of who is the animals/and such long noses to look down/and cleaners to tidy their mess/to sweep their floors and polish their shit from porcelain/and wash their sheets/and dust their huge televisions/there is a parallel between the silt and the cream/a species imploding/to rub my arms with gasoline until I gleam/and these are the sentiments of genocide/of bitterness and disenchantment/and I dream of a primitive world

of guillotines

and

firing

squads

click on thumbnails for full size images

Download soundtrack: 4,5,6 – Kool G Rap

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

click on thumbnails for full size images

 


Buddy Esquire & Phase 2/Graves in the Snow/Old School Flyers

where junkies prowI,
where the tigers growI...

in search
of that much-needed bIow.

Where winos cringe
on a canned-heat binge...  

and find their graves
in the snow.

Russell Stevens Jr. / John Hull
 

click on thumbnails for full size images

 

download the soundtrack:

Long Live the Kane – Big Daddy Kane

if you enjoy this album please obtain a legal copy


piano necktie packaging/women/harlem rag

“What a strange thing man is; and what a stranger thing woman.”
Lord Byron


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


On the beach/Figure heads/Origami & Tessellations

moodboards with a beach/shell/tessellation/origami theme, burnt oranges, sepia, monochrome and washed out olive and navy colour palette.

if there is a particular image or images you would like please post me and I will do my best to email it/them to you asap

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