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xmag.com : April 2002: The Jack Shack

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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