The Slain Truth.

The Slain Truth.
Hardcore provocateur Slain Wayne made the leap from 8mm underground shock-and-awe opuses to overseeing the big-time serrated-edge sex videos via his Subvision Films imprint. In this Sleazegrinder interview, Wayne describes his audience as “speed freaks who lock themselves in for a week with porno tapes, trying to get off--they can't, because they're looking out the window thinking the cops are in the trees.” He also adds, “Sometimes I add little voices onto the sound track of my videos, just to freak them out.”

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Tit was a very good year.
Any article that begins thusly--“1976 was the year of the clitoris”--has got us instantly hooked.

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Gratis bogus gazongas.
SexWrecks.com hates fake tits. Ladies, don’t get them. The despair we are feeling over this My Free Implants site, society’s new crime against delightfully small and/or floppy mammaries, will be legendary even in hell.

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Scarlet (beaver) fever.
Along with natural boobs, redheads rank high among the personal obsessions in these parts. Thus it was hard not to investigate links labeled thusly: "Pale redhead spanked butt torturing;” “Nude redhead muffdived and fisted;” and, oh yes, “Redhead lesbian gets cucumber in the ass.”

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Bosom Baron Biopic.
Mega-milksack-obsessed skinematic visionary Russ Meyer is said to be the subject of a big-screen life story based on the biography Big Bosoms and Square Jaws by Jimmy McDonough. We can’t wait to see it in I-Max … or will it then be known as I-Mams? As much as we adore the Duke of Knockers and wait with anticipation to see how Hollywood handles his superhumanly hefty-hootered honeys, this news makes us pine more severely than ever for a movie adaptation of author McDonough’s true masterpiece, The Ghastly One: The Sex Gore Netherworld of Filmmaker Andy Milligan.

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Tit Me, Baby, Two More Times.
The indispensable utter outpost My Boob Site poses the question: “What would Britney Spears look like with a G-cup?” Mountainous meat-pontooned porn babe Taylor Stevens provides the answer(s).

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Stroke this.
We hate New York City anti-rock zeros The Strokes. Ordinarily, we might want to see an uncensored music video that features all manner of naked, polymorphous perversion. But it’s The Strokes, man. Not even the mute button could diminish that stink.