Hey, Faggot:
Both Hustler and Cheri are brought to us by the good folks at Larry Flynt Publishing Inc. in Los Angeles. Where do they get male models for their coed photo spreads? “Usually the models contact me directly, though I do deal with some talent agencies,” said Laura, talent coordinator for Hustler. Laura, like Madonna, has no last name. How do men contact her? “There’s a phone number listed in the magazine, and guys call. I tell them to mail in photos. They don’t have to be professional models, or have professional photos–Polaroids are fine.” What does Hustler look for in a male model? “Mr. Flynt is looking for guys who aren’t built too big. We want nice bodies on the slender side. It’s a guys’ magazine, and Mr. Flynt feels that if the guys are too built, normal guys who read the magazine won’t be able to relate to them.”
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I was amused by the letter from the woman with the aversion to her man spooging on her face. I also noticed that she said everything was cool during foreplay. I’ll bet part of their foreplay involves him eating her pussy and getting her juices all over his face. I’ll also venture that she has no problem with that. So why isn’t she OK with getting his juices on her face?
I’m such a slacker! Here we are in week four of the AV era (After Viagra), and I haven’t written one stinking word about Pfizer’s miracle drug! For those living under the proverbial rock, Viagra gives men boners and makes women melt. And Viagra doesn’t just help the handicapped: reportedly it also enhances the experience for those with fully functional plumbing. While there are already whispers of serious side effects (another fen-phen in the making?), no one seems to care. In the interest of science, I begged a friend to Fed Ex me a blue miracle pill. I couldn’t get any where I live, but my lucky friend lives in San Francisco, where Mayor Willie Brown has personally gone door-to-door passing out bottles of Viagra to his grateful constituents. Now, I don’t need the drug, mind you. I get hard-ons all by myself–er, that’s not what I meant. I mean, when I need a hard-on, I get one–OK? And tonight, I need one: I’m gonna go home, take my meds, and jump the boyfriend. Tune in next week for a full report!
