Thursday

Round and round the indoor track
the Hispanic goddess
ran the orbs of her luscious breasts
bouncing up and down
jiggling and wiggling inside the frilly
cups of her sexy teddy
with each and every step she took
outside it was snowing
while inside the curvaceous goddess
kept her well-endowed
athletic body in shape by working out
all the better to please
her employer who has become one of
the richest men upon
good ole mother earth’s roving surface
spinning around the sun
wealthy enough to support his harem
filled with the most lovely
concubines mother nature has to offer
who along with their six
other just as lovely companions in arms
though altogether
different each in their carnal speciality
must share the burden
formidable though it may be of pleasing
the brown haired and
rather well-hung Star Master in his bed

[Via http://dapoetslament.wordpress.com]

Naked man on side of gay bar

In Basel, Switzerland, turkish born Memeth J, was having a gay ole time at a 4th floor of a gay bar. Suddenly a fire started and because the door was locked Memeth flew through the window outside, naked. He was hanging on the side of the window for 5 minutes before firemen saved him. Memeth, who is not out as a gay man, said he was only looking for a friend. Why he was naked is another story!! He just hopes his parents do not recognize him.

[Via http://gaydutchnyc.wordpress.com]

March Madness: Fran Gerard, Miss March 1967

I was fortunate enough to stumble over the entire original layout and spread of the Playboy issue featuring the very lovely and very talented Ms. Fran Gerard, Miss March 1967.

Photographed by Mario Casilli and Gene Trindl. (Color work by Casilli, B&W shots by Trindl, according to the orig. spread’s credits)
We predict a sparkling future for our heavenly-bodied Miss March. Generously configured Fran Gerard is a girl for the stars. “We’re forever searching the cosmos for new meanings.” (“Stars In Her Eyes,” Playboy, March 1967.)

The specs-sporting young Ms. Gerard worked as an astrologer’s assistant (zodiac quackery rears its head AGAIN) in L.A. at the time of her appearance, so they made a big deal out of that.

But the main thing of her is that she is tied right up there with Janet Lupo, Cynthia Myers, etc, for the largest natural breasts ever to be featured in Playboy.

As it was quite sometime before Janet, Cyndi, Roberta Vasquez, Alana Soares, et al came along to potentially unseat Ms. Gerard as undisputed mammary queen (I am not bothering to list the silicone sweethearts whose plastic racks match the numbers in name only and never rate so high in the eyes of the lord), she has understandably enjoyed long-lasting and tremendous fame in the Playboy world.

A “little looker,” her Playmate data sheet reports she was just 5′2″ tall at the time of her appearance in the magazine at age 21. Holy chumbuckets, I cannot even imagine the back trouble the girl had to have had by age 30. Sorry if that deglamourizes things, but dang. That’s some serious rackage to haul around for a chick that only weighed around 110.

More than just a pretty face hovering over likely-uncomfortably-giant knockers, Ms. Gerard was a genuinely swingin’ chick with a good head on her small shoulders. And great taste in music!
Our plenipotent Playmate is as versant with combos as with cosmos: “Charlie Parker’s ‘Ornithology’ was the greatest single ever made,” says Fran, “and I think E.S.P. by Miles Davis is the best LP.” Sinatra is her favorite singer, especially “Cottage for Sale.” (Ibid.)

She says, “[I] like artists Marc Chagall and Salvador Dali. They capture so much of the glory of the universe in their work, but I don’t think I’m being stuffy: I like ‘Batman,’ too!” (Ibid.)

“Batman”? Heyoooo! Actually, I have also always liked Chagall’s work, especially this one piece he did that told a Russian folk tale, if I’m remembering rightly… Maybe later this week I’ll throw up some stuff about him.

Fran credits another favorite, a book, with being the source of all this happiness and satisfaction. “It’s The Magic of Believing by C. M. Bristol. It helps you to think positively.” (Ibid.)

Fran’s favorite book is still in print. It is also available for purchase as an ebook. Here’s an excerpt from the first few paragraphs:Is there some force, or factor, or power, or science—call it what you will—which a few people understand and use to overcome their difficulties and achieve outstanding success? I firmly believe that there is, and it is my purpose in this book to try to explain it so that you can use it if you desire.
Around 1933 the financial editor of a great Los Angeles newspaper attended lectures I gave to financial men in that city and read my brochure T.N.T.—It Rocks the Earth. Afterwards, he wrote, “You have caught from the ether something that has a mystical quality—a something that explains the magic of coincidence, the mystery of what makes men lucky.”

(source, and please do not consider the link an endorsement)

Wow, what is amazing about that is it could have been written, like, yesterday, except replace “1933″ in the suspiciously specious and detail-lacking anecdote with “2003.” I did not think people were marketing murky bullshit that long ago, but I live to be surprised. I should’ve known, I suppose, given all the snake oil salesmen and shenaniganizers who’ve always walked this earth conning money out of suckers. Like the rightly revered Msr. Barnum observed, there is one born every minute.

I think I will try my hand at tossing off a few sentences. A few years ago, I was addressing a colony of junebugs at an annual meeting. After the meeting, a junebug who had just been raised to upper hive-management approached me and invited me to have a drink. He told me that he had seen me speak at a junebug team-building conference near an abandoned swingset only six months earlier, and had returned to his nest eager to apply the Simple Principles that I teach. Within just a few months, he had already been promoted above his boss and was handling new junebug regions of management!

Like so many countless others that I have been happy to help, this junebug told me in that hotel bar that he would have never believed the success and accomplishments he would achieve in such a short time just by following these three simple steps to harnessing the power of YOUR potential to do Great Things!
(E., Right Here, Right Now.)

How did that sound? Would you buy my shit? No? I’m huge in junebug circles, picking up sales in bee hives, and keep it between us but I think I’m about to crack the highly elusive ladybug market. (What I am saying is that I think this is all fishsticks and curried potatoes, this malarkey. Positive thinking is very powerful, yes, and important to your overall well-being, but so is hustling your buns to earn a simple living and have rich relationships with loved ones rather than sucking down cultish nonsense like coca-cola and craving weird amounts of power through ESP. Mad love and respect to Ms. Gerard, but come on.)

I think this is the best shot of the lot.
The positively smashing Miss Gerard’s idea of a perfect man? Clark Gable. “Remember him as Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind? He was too much,” says Fran appreciatively. (“Stars In Her Eyes.”)

Yes, I particularly enjoyed the scene where he got ten kinds of drunk and told Scarlett he was going to crush her head like a walnut, slapped her around a little, and then took her upstairs for some rough sex. You’re probably thinking that is some feminist, critical statement mired in sarcasm: you are sadly wrong. I’m messed up I guess, but I think that saucy Scarlett needs slapped around pretty much every goddamned minute of the day and Rhett was born for the job. They are a nasty, scheming, firey-eyed match made in hell and I think it makes an excellent and exciting love story, in a very dark and ugly way for which it seldom gets credit. So, today I say to you, Margaret Mitchell: Well done, sir.

The man who did the b&w work for this spread, Gene Trindl, was best known as a photographer for TV Guide. He shot over 800 spreads for them, and 200 covers. Dang, right? He died of pancreatic cancer June 29, 2004, two years after my cousin Tom and thirty-seven years after Jayne Mansfield. RIP, Mr. Trendl.

TURN-ONS: High fashion, antiques.
TURNOFFS: Arrogance, people and their trivial problems.
(Playmate datasheet.)

Um … you hate arrogance, but you also hate people and their “trivial problems”? Okay. The kettle called … said something about how you are the black one? No need to call back.

DID YOU KNOW? I’m an assistant to astrologer Jack Gemini.
PEOPLE I ADMIRE: My parents, for the great job they did raising me.
FAVORITE MUSIC: Jazz.
(Ibid.)

I have googled the crap out of Jack Gemini, John Gemini, LA Astrologers in the 1960’s, and am coming up triple goose eggs. If you got a line on him, I’m interested.

So many thousands of thanks to my usual sources but in this case also special singling out for lovin’s to dear Fabrizio, an awesome and generous moderator over at the vintage erotica forums, from whom the majority of these great shots came!

Bello, sono incredibili, e grazie sempre per tutte immagini meravigliose. Molti baci, ♥ mua-mua! I owe you big-time, my good man, and I strongly encourage readers to swing over to the forums. They’re free, well-moderated, full of fun, and they won’t give your computer any wack infections or the hantavirus. Enjoy!

Here are the scans of the original b&w article accompanying the gatefold and color spread.

[Via http://thethoughtexperiment.wordpress.com]

Sexy Tattoos

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Star Child

“Star child”
Magazine: S-magazine #10
Photographed by Barnaby Roper
Model: Anastasija Kondratjeva

[Via http://scriptical.wordpress.com]

Office Etiquette: Listening to Death

There are certain etiquette rules one must follow when working in an office environment.  For instance, when you belch you should really say, “Excuse me.”  The same is true when you let out an obtrusive passing of the ass.  Sure, you may not want to.  You may not even care.  But it’s just the proper thing to do.  Think of it like walking downtown with your clothes on.  You probably would prefer to be naked but politics and the law, make the task simply daunting, and being the good law-abiding citizen that you are — who only holds up liquor stores on the weekends — you must play by the rules.

Unfortunately, no matter how many envelope openers you may want to throw at your coworkers, you can not fault them for following traditional office setting protocol. Asking someone how they’re doing is a standard act for anyone who’s an active part of the working community.  The easy part is replying with a simple one-worded sentence which usually sums up the description of your mood – “Fine,” followed by an annoyed gasp of breath and a look that could melt butter.  The hard part, on the other hand, is listening to that very same coworker volunteer an update on how they’re doing [or feeling]; “volunteering” being the operative word here.  There is nothing worse than listening to someone go and on about something that you care nothing about.

Have you ever stopped to ask yourself why you should care about the stories that boring clod is telling you?  Most average working class people really don’t want to hear all the blah blah about their officemate’s night before.  They don’t want to hear about the long drive into the office or the report analysis that’s going to be discussed in further detail in the next staff meeting.   They don’t even want to hear the lame ass jokes that are guaranteed not to make you laugh.  What they do want is to be left the hell alone!  They want to be at peace with their coffee and their personal email.  They want to avoid the phony relationships, the hierarchy of supervisors and the constant telephone calls that never end.  In fact, having to speak to customers on the phone should be the only time uninteresting stories are bombarded on anyone at the office.  The average person spends 60% of their workday on the phone putting out fires in someone else’s shattering life.  The gripes, grievances, sob stories and fragmented inquiries almost drives a person to wanting to start a fire – burn that office building to the mutha-effin’ ground!

Though starting a blazing fire may be too extreme for some workers, there are other things you can do to avoid the death-like stories of your colleagues, who deem themselves an extended part of your family, considering you spend more time at the office than you do in your own home.

(1) You can rip off your ears and hand them over to whoever refuses to shut the hell up.  That way they can finish talking while you are deaf to all the world around you.

(2) You can snatch the lips right off their face and leave them on top of the water cooler.  Pulling this trick off may offend the person talking, but in the end they’ll thank you.  People do most of their chatting at the water cooler, anyway.

(3) You can take a gun and blow a hole in the side of your head.   That’ll save the undesirable chatter-box from talking you to death.

Smacking them and calling them out of name may be your first thought, but it would also be your one-way ticket to the unemployment office.   However, if you’re planning on quitting the job anyway, you have nothing to lose!  Also, don’t rule out running away from the conversation with your hands waving in the air or something as simple as passing out.  Slamming your head into a wall is also a good way to indiscreetly give someone the hint that you’d enjoy a stomach ache more than the conversation at hand.  Listening to the intricate details of someone’s boring life is just way too much to ask first thing in the morning.  Whatever way you decide to make your quick grand exit from listening to someone talk you to death, just keep in mind that it will require a little effort on your part.  And 90% of any effort is getting started.

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Quote of the Week:    “42.7% of all statistics are made up on the spot.”

[Via http://hottywoodhelps.com]