A twisted rider apes a classic Napoleonic pose, mounted upon the fleshy back of a unicorn, its head that of a narwhal. Such things exist in the mind of Mat Brown, an artist whose images are nearly beyond description; sprawling landscapes, lush with alien vegetation and inhabited by hideous figures. It is a fascinating, but horrific collection of sensual grotesqueries.
Be careful as the gallery is, most assuredly, not safe for work.
A Thai ad from all the way back in 2005 — ancient by internet standards — for Bridgestone tires. Giving too much away might ruin it for those who have not seen it but I will say this, he deserved better than her. That poodle was a slut.
On the night of August 7th, Hong Kong police received a frantic call from a 41 year-old gentleman named Xing. He informed the officer that he was trapped in LianTan park. His stated reason? It seems that while meandering through the park, he had espied the salacious, perforated curves of one of the many benches dotting the grounds and, seeing that no one was around, he decided to do what any right-thinking, virile man would do. He decided to fuck it.
Problems soon enough presented themselves when Xing realized that the object of his affection had so firm a grasp on his member that he was unable to extricate himself. In a panic, he called the police who, finding his penis too swollen with blood to safely remove from the bench, were forced to cut the bench free and transport it, with lover attached, to the hospital where it was removed. Doctors remarked that, had he remained in the bench’s embrace for much longer, they would have had to remove his genitals in order to free him.
Let this serve as a lesson to all you would-be bench sodomites. Yes, they may be sexy and, yes, they may be “asking for it”, what with their polished surfaces and their exposed fastenings; but behind the weather beaten paint and wrought iron there is a darker side. There is a price to pay for your late night dalliances. Can you afford it?
Extended Stay hotels has a series of videos in which a woman stalks through one of their rooms, licking everything she can. Ostensibly the ads aim to show just how sterile their guest rooms are while also providing the kind of semi-erotic titillation that only the image of a girl salivating on an alarm clock can provide. It is by far one of the most appalling ads I have ever seen.
I have seen the “Special Reports” featuring news correspondents armed with UV lights exposing the invisible, Pollock-esque glaze of protein that decorates most hotel rooms. Worse yet, I worked in a hotel for two years, most of it night shift and one of my duties was to slip a bill under the doors of people who would be checking out in the morning. Let me assure you, judging from the sounds I heard emanating from some of the rooms as I made the rounds, I have no doubt that someone has done far worse things to your television’s remote than lick it.
Another very popular Pimba artist is Quim Barreiros. […] In most of his songs, Barreiros makes extensive use of ambiguous words, often with obvious sexual suggestions. One of Quim Barreiros’ biggest hits was “A Garagem da Vizinha” (The [Female] Neighbour’s Garage), which is a metaphor for the female genitalia, but he is also known for hits such as “Mariazinha”, where he asks a woman named Mariazinha to let him smell her “codfish”.
This anti-pornography film from the 1960s left me with one very obvious, and troubling, conclusion: I am deeply envious of the wordsmithery of morally conservative propagandists. From his terse, esoteric pronunciation of bestiality, to his description of a “flood-tide of filth” — a description that calls to mind great, towering waves of briny genitalia — in terms of oratorical outrage, George Putnam is equal parts Shakespeare and Don King. Listening to his ode to a young, female sex toy, he paints a picture of sleazy, corrupted innocence that far exceeds any photograph. His insights are pointed, “[…]very few blind people join the nudist colonies,” he notes; his logic flawless. It was only when he described the irreversible effects of pornography that I realized why man-on-top missionary style sex did not excite me and why I insisted that my girlfriend participate in elaborate, 80s themed cos-play. Suddenly forcing her to dress like Jem or one of the My Little Ponies made perfect, if horrible, sense.
Yet, Putnam remains humble throughout. “In this ad, the titles of the magazines and their table of contents speak more eloquently than I about the tremendous problem here presented,” he says, before uttering the words “Sexual sadism. Strange flagellation cults” with a gravitas that would drive Morgan Freeman mad with jealousy. Oh George, you sell yourself short. Who else could speak of homosexuals as an evil “species” without coming off as a completely ignorant, hateful bigot? Who else could retain their composure while narrating over scores of photographs of female breasts covered by bars so large that one would think these women were in possession of the most freakishly huge areolas to be found on this planet, Earth? Not I!
Towards the end of the clip he quotes Pitirim A. Sorokin — the famed sociologist and author of, among other works, the hysterical and reactionary The American Sex Revolution — as saying that the newsstands of the time
[…] depict the world as a sort of human zoo, inhabited by raped, mutilated, and murdered females and by he-males, outmatching in bestiality, cavemen and out-lusting the lustiest of animals. Male and female alike are hardened in cynical contempt for human life and values.
Part of me wishes these two gentleman had been able to see some of the more interesting corners of the internet, if only to have been able to see their brains leak out their ears. In fact, Putnam is still alive and has, at the very least, changed his opinion on homosexuals. Someone should sit him down in front of 4chan before it’s too late.
Mrs. Habersham was not what one would consider a prude, surely her extensive collection of scandalous knee length frocks — which exposed not only her ankles, but the salacious curve of her calves — could attest to this fact; and yet she could not help but feel that Mr. Habersham’s carpentry fantasies were, perhaps, a bit outside of her comfort zone.
YOUR THROBBING MULTIFARIOUS LUSTFUL DESIRES ARE COMPLETED N YOUR HYPER-ORANGE SELF, YOU MAKE ME LOVE AGAIN, YOU’VE CHANGED MY HEART, MY MELANCHOLIA DISAPPEARS WHEN YOU ARE INSIDE OF ME, MY HUMAN RAGE IS TEMPERED WHEN I AM INSIDE YOU, THE SECRET IS COMMUNICATION, LONGEVITY, STAMINA, REPETITION, FURY, SOULFUL KISSING, EARPLUGS. YOU FUCKING CORPORATE COCKS AND CUNTS.
So begins the rant that accompanies this video on YouTube. Let me be perfectly clear: there is nothing redeeming about this video. No, this is a test of fortitude or, perhaps, a measure of your masochistic tendencies. Here for your own edification then is nigh on nine minutes of torturous inanity in the form of a man — clad in a Speedo and purple socks, his face hidden by a bag forged from the brightest Day-Glo so as to protect himself from reprisal — caressing, fondling, and humping a giant phallus comprised of Cheetos.
The masked man — should you be interested in demanding those 8+ minutes of your life back — is one Jeff Ostergan, an artist who in addition to the aforementioned inappropriate snack touching, also claims an impressive portfolio of objects and canvasses he has dripped paint on; and by “impressive” I mean that it is impressive that one would wish to drip paint on so many things or that one could convince others to spend time and money displaying all the things you have dripped paint on.
Welcome to Ectomo’s 33rd Mostly-Weekly Saturday Morning Cartoons Show. Today we present to you a smorgasbord of delectable animated dishes; a smattering of drama, horror, humor, and vintage erotica served up steaming hot for your enjoyment. So sit back, relax, and prepare to have you senses assaulted with ‘toonage!.
• Don Hertzfeldt. welcomes you to the show!
• Transformers: “”More Than Meets the Eye Parts 1-3″. Over an hour of thinly veiled toy commercials masquerading as a children’s cartoon. Learn how the Autobots and the Decepticons came to Earth and which plastic and die-cast metal action figure to beg for! Seriously though, while the cartoon doesn’t hold up particularly well and while it is just a glorified toy commercial, I still can’t shake my love for Transformers.
• Comedian Louis C.K. uses animation to explore some of his father issues.
• Eveready Harton in Buried Treasure: A piece of animation history; the first pornographic cartoon. Rumor is that it was made for a private party in honor of the great Windsor McKay and that such visionaries as Max Fleischer and the Mutt and Jeff studio were involved.
• The Real Ghostbusters: “The Boogieman Cometh”. One of my favorite episodes of this show, the design for the Boogieman is just brilliant, his oversized head, replete with glass-shard like teeth, and cloven hooves makes for a great image.
• Intermission, by Don Hertzfeldt.
• Welcome To Eltingville: “Bring me the Head of Boba Fett”. The first and only episode of this cartoon based on Evan Dorkin’s Eisner-Award-winning “Eltingville Comic-Book, Science-Fiction, Fantasy, Horror, and Role-Playing Club” published in the pages of Dork. Featuring four gentleman — Bill Dickey, Josh Levy, Pete DiNunzio, and Jerry Stokes — who are friends of a fashion, but geeks to the fullest. In this episode a battle erupts over the ownership of a Boba Fett figurine and hilarity thus ensues. Cameo by MC Chris, which I’m pretty sure was a prerequisite for [adult swim] cartoons for a while.
• Paranoia Agent: “The Holy Warrior”. Detectives Ikari and Maniwa interrogate Lil’ Slugger who confuses his realities and believes that the world around him is a medieval-style RPG while his quest is to defeat the evil Gouma who possesses other people to fight. Ikari and Maniwa follows Lil’ Slugger through his “journey” and see that it does coincide with all of the attacks — all except for Tsukiko Sagi. However, Lil’ Slugger points the detectives to where the old lady is who may posses the truth.
Meet Edward Smith, a 57 year-old gentleman from Washington state who claims to have had sex with over a thousand cars. Mr. Smith says that he bedded his first automobile at 15 and although he sticks mainly to cars, he does say that his most potent sexual experience was “making love” to the helicopter from Airwolf. Lest you think that Mr. Smith’s desires be completely victimless however, note that he does admit that many of his lovers are found in showrooms or are owned by others adding, in what I imagine to be the same tone and parlance as Bill McKinney:
“There are moments way out in the middle of nowhere when I see a little car parked and I swear it needs loving.”
This article chilled me to the bone. Having done my best to avoid the harrowing experience of protecting my young daughter’s chastity from the advances of lecherous men — mostly by consuming large amounts of Mountain Dew and punching myself in the groin in an attempt to render myself sterile — I must instead face the reality of having to sit out on my front stoop with a shotgun, lest some depraved sodomite attempt to penetrate my Civic.
Update: More photos here including images of trunk licking, muffler cupping, and furries.
I enjoyed Chuck Palahniuk’s first four novels immensely, especially Survivor which remains his high point thus far. However, his books since Choke have been, shall we say, awful. His last novel was so bad that I didn’t even bother to finish it even though I was past the one hundred page mark which is the point of no return for me, after which I force myself to finish the book no matter how painful it may be.
All of that said, I am cautiously optimistic — or impossibly dense, take your pick — about his next novel, entitled Snuff, about an aging porn actress named Cassie Wright, who is attempting to break the record for the world’s largest gangbang but winds up dying in the process (didn’t see that one coming did you, what with the book’s title and all). This is regardless of the fact that the review from Publisher’s Weekly, which is on the Amazon product page, unenthusiastically proclaims:
There are sharp moments when Palahniuk compassionately and candidly examines the flesh-on-film industry, but mostly this reads like a cross between the Spice Channel and Days of Our Lives.
Doubleday is betting that you won’t care or don’t read Publisher’s Weekly or Amazon before you reflexively hit the Pre-Order button and to help advertise it have given Cassie Wright her own myspace page, complete with this kitschy trailer for one of her films, The Wizard of Ass with the promise of two more coming soon. No doubt I will be picking it up, if only for the probability of repetitive, descriptive lists of sexual acts and porn etiquette.
No nudity but still may be unsafe for your workplace. Time to get a job that allows you to view Ectomo without fear of reprisal!
In sheer defiance of the World Wide Web Consortium's will, Ectomo was designed using a non-web-standard font. Luckily, it is included in the excellent font pack released by the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society, which can be freely downloaded in Mac and PC formats here. Ectomo should still look fine without it, though.
