In
past installments of The Jack Shack, I've written
about mutant hardcore porn--urinatin' Negresses, cock-gobblin'
grandmas, and strap-on midgets. Before I progress to amputee
gang-bangs and colostomy-bag splash-fests, I figure it's
time to take a break and go to the other extreme--this
month, we're gonna dim the lights and bring you some softcore.
Some fluffcore, if you will.
"Nudie-cutie" is a term describing what were typically short,
silent films
from the 1940s through the 1960s in which women gradually
removed their undergarments while fluttering their eyelashes,
acting coy, and looking off-
camera for further instructions. These films betoken a simpler,
more wholesome time in our cultural history, back when it
was a culturally significant event to see an onscreen nipple
in all its nipply naughtiness, back before all the important
First Amendment
battles were fought, back before creeps like me came along
to jeopardize all our freedoms. But times change
like the wind blows, and when the floodgates opened for
clinical hardcore porn in the late 1960s, the nudie-cuties
were rendered extinct.
Something
Weird Video claims to have released FIFTY two-hour tapes--a
HUNDRED FUCKING HOURS--of nudie-cutie reels onto VHS, and
if the eighteen girls in this tape can be considered an
average haul, that means this series features about NINE
HUNDRED garter-wearing, red-lipped, crazy-bouffanted, high-heeled,
big-bushed chickie-o's grinding and pouting to dangerous
lowlife jazzy cocktail music and hair-burning psychedelic
shag-outs.
It's
nice that these gals lived back in an era when things were
FILMED, because video makes everyone look as if they're
undergoing chemotherapy. Film brings out a lushness which
video only bleaches away. It also probably makes a lot of
these girls' bruises, scars, birthmarks, moles, and cellulite
look less scary.
Judging
from the bulletproof beehives, I'd place the girls from
Volume 50 somewhere firmly in the mid-1960s. A lot of these
girls have no natural grace, rhythm, or screen presence.
They all have lumpy asses and bellies of varying sizes.
Some have mottled skin and huge noses. And since this is
the 60s, those that go crotchless reveal one Gigantor muff
after the next. It's an assembly line of super muffs. Ain't
nuttin' wrong with dat!
A
lot of the scenes look like they were filmed in the same
hotel room, and the idea of fly-by-nite 60s cutie-porn is
oddly exciting to me. Eighteen sexually repressed girls
trapped under the patriarchy's evil dirty thumb. Eighteen
girls with teased-up hair, licorice-thick false eyelashes,
and sinful black lingerie jigglin' their lumpy tushes in
anonymous motel rooms. There isn't one girl among the
eighteen that I wouldn't do, but I'm notorious for not having
any standards.
Among
my favorites:
*
An Italian-looking pickled olive with giant black-snowflake
eyelashes, dangling gold earrings, tight brown beehive,
and shiny red pumps. She wriggles around on a beautiful
pearly-white wedding-cake-ornate bed, playing with a surreally
large giant green hat.
*
Two black-stockinged topless girls teasing one another
with  feather
dusters. One of them is a dead ringer for my brother's
first wife: short peroxided hair teased upward, large
nose and tits, and beautiful dark circles under her eyes.
Her play-partner is a chunky, apple-faced redhead. They
seem highly embarrassed to have been placed in this faux-lesbo
scenario, and I find their embarrassment highly arousing.
*
A monkey-faced white girl with razor-sharp Bettie Page
black bangs, diamond-patterned black fishnets, and gigantic
psychotic black eyes. Her tits are proud and forceful
as they hover over a skinny ribcage, and she just about
slams those tits into the camera. She grinds around on
a plaid sleeping bag looking like she knows how to squirm
around on a dick right proper an' all. And just when I'm
thinking that she looks like she shot up a spoonful of
smack about ten seconds before filming, there they are--TRACK
MARKS on her arm! Maybe this IS hardcore porno!
*
Another stoned-looking prom girl wearing a silver-lamé
party dress. She has a shiny forehead framed by straight,
long, greasy, parted-in-the-middle hair. She yanks off
with the party dress quickly to reveal feisty little Reese's
Cup tits and proceeds to writhe around on a bed, her eyes
rolled up in the back of her head as if she's having a
bum trip. When she finally removes her sheer-red panties,
she reveals the best bush of the bunch--a thick perfect
V. It is the sight of this bush which finally sends me
to the Exotic bathroom to relieve some tension.
After four Jack Shacks, finally I stumble across
something which impels me to pleasure myself. Nice goin',
60s girls!
These
girls are probably all dead or unfuckable now, but I dig
their crazy style. This is back before girls wore T-shirts
and sweatpants,
back when they put a lot of attention into girl stuff--hair,
makeup, undergarments, and high heels. I realize I'm weird,
but I think these broads are so much hotter than the alien
mannequins who pass for porn stars these days. They're
a step closer to the animals, and I can almost smell their
jungle funk wafting off the screen. If you're like me,
and you like girls who look more like monkeys than androids,
this film is for you. There are no tattoos, piercings,
fake boobs, or shaved beavers here. The word "empowerment"
hadn't even been coined yet. The phrase "sex-positive"
didn't exist. This was back before women realized they
were able to have orgasms and all the trouble that erupted
after
THAT fateful event.
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