Tag: Porn

  • TAMMY’S DOODLES NOVEMBER 3RD:

    Had a massive spring clean recently. I came across a pile of my old school excercise books. As i flicked through them, i was amazed to see how little completed work they contained, but almost every second page had sketches, drawings, doodles (snort), and artwork. I was never lazy, i guess i was just distracted, looking for an escape. I tore the drawings out, and tossed anything that looked like actual school work. I do believe all these drawings could account for the terrorism, that passes as my version of grammar.

  • VANITY FUR:

    In a fashion spread that is so common place these days, but not so much in Marta’s time, she took the opportunity to be dressed and stylised as some of her favorite icons. As is now expected of Marta, it was more ‘Razors’ than ‘Cutting’ edge. Pain, self mutilation and careless regard for society’s mores is all de rigour when Marta steps before the camera, so moisten a finger, and prepare to flip through the pages of Marta’s latest documented fashion gift to us ..


    ABOVE PIC: Marta tips the hat, and quite possibley the scales, in this tribute to Courtney Love, Marta spared no comfort zone in her dedication to nailing her inspirations, right down to infusing her Courtney-esque wig with head lice, and hacking out a piece of her septum.


    ABOVE PIC: Esther Williams never needed goggles, but that isn’t going to stop Marta interpreting what she believes Esther should have been decked out in. In true Marta fashion she insisted that her goggles carry her prescription, so in a fashionabley aqueous act she could wear these goggles with evening wear, and to the theatre.


    ABOVE THREE PICS: Annette Funicello come on down!, it’s ‘Beach blanket bingo’ with Marta as she takes to the waves, and risks getting sand in her crack, and a pelt matted by the drying effects of salt water, all in the name of fashion. Speaking of, Marta can’t help herself, she has to fuck with our minds. In the first of the above three photo’s, you can see in tribute to the material girl Madge, Marta got a pair of pliars, and snapped off one of her top mollars, unlike Madge, who merely used black gum make up, Marta self medicated, and snapped the fucker off in front of the bathroom mirror, why? .. for Fah-Fah-Fashion.


    ABOVE PIC: Cool as ice, or warm as an ice pipe?, Catherine Deneuve gets the nod here, the all too obvious beret, the beige Jackie O mid seventies jacket, and Marta’s own diamond earings cut from the nastiest mountain in South Africa. What can i say, cool, icey, aloof, chilly .. textbook French.


    ABOVE PIC: The first of two biker girl tributes by Marta, and it’s no one you would think. Here Marta takes on the role of the sexually unsatisfied Olive Butler from the UK tv series ‘On the buses’, played by Anna Karen. Poor Olive was always relegated to the side car of her husbands motorbike, which Marta feels was a euphemism for women everywhere, and there circumstance at the time. Marta recognises, and pays tribute to the subtle work done in breaking down these barriers by making sure no bugs ever stuck in her teeth, and it was okay to wear diamonds, even tho relegated to a submissive roll in a motorbike side car, and most importantly, to suck on the exhaust fumes, and get off your nut as you were forced to be merely a passenger (even tho zoning off into the alpha).


    ABOVE PIC: Ethnic chic as Marta travels to the Middle East and plays a role within a role, here Marta is styled after Michelle Phillips in ‘Valentino’, who was herself playing Natacha Rambova in the movie, shades of the famous Dali painting, of a painting, of a painting, of a painting etc. A subtle nod also goes out to Linda McCartney who refused to shave her legs, and was pilloried from pillar to post because of this act of non conformity, Marta (who personifies the the words ‘In your face’) does not fuck around, and for weeks before the photo shoot, mainlined testosterone directly into her temple, to ramp up the pelt on her upper chest as a casual ‘Fuck you!’, and as a nod of solidarity to her more hirsute sisters.


    ABOVE PIC: The second in the ‘Biker girl’ series, here Marta don’s a ‘Pleather’ jacket, jumps out of the side car, takes the handlebars, and becomes Shelly Winters in ‘Cleopatra Jones’. Note the totally Sixties face viser, the collagen stung lips, and the Easy Rider profile, no happy accidents here.


    ABOVE THREE PICS: Marta does Martha (‘Stewart’ that is). Is it any wonder that Marta chose to pay tribute to a woman who’s life has encopassed crocheting colostomy bag covers, macrame wall hangings (used primarilly for auto erotic asphyixiation), and two years hard labour in an all womens prison?, didn’t think so. Anyone who thinks that the cream canister in the first pic is going to be used for the desert is vastly mistaken, Marta knows that nothing rocks your world like having a hit of nitrous from a cream canister, immediately after hammering a bucket bong.

    In the second photo Marta contemplates using the flacid chicken as a hat, of course this predates Lady Ga Ga’s meat dress by a good thirty years, but the dripping bacteria from the gibblets swayed Marta away from this act of poultry fashion terrorism, even Marta draws the line at stomach cramps, and projectile gastric in the name of fashion.

    Can we please make mention of the stately outfit?, from the drop flowered diamond earrings, the almost, but not quite, hounds tooth dress, the finely cut blouse with what i can only assume are Saville Row tailored sleeves and buttons, and the double, and wide banded watch. All for the kitchen, and all for glamour.


    ABOVE PIC: ‘Jocelyn’ nothing more to be said.


    ABOVE PIC: Lauren Bacall all the way, Marta makes a flowing entrance, it’s all about the movement and the moment. The scolloped front flows down, but pulls up short of the pubic region, it’s Marta saying ‘You can have a bit, but not everything’. For her cuffs Marta has hacked the cuff’s off an old pair of bell bottom slacks and grafted them on here for winter covereage, i’ve seen this dress worn in spring without the extended arm length, making this dress a little more interactive. The flower burst diamond (of course) earings are on display for all to ogle, and in true Marta fashion, her stockings, or leggings, are actually made from the stretched foam coverings used to protect stone fruits in supermarkets. Jeannie Little may have made a career out of making dresses from garbage bags, but no one recycles waste into fashion like Marta.


    ABOVE PIC: With a look of stoicism, unaffected detachement and a serene calm, Marta holds aloft no mere accsesory, but a symbol of repression everywhere in the GLBTI community, the humble turkey baster. Years before ribbons, fundraisers and awareness campaigns, Marta would appear at openings, red carpet roll outs and celebrity events clutching the baster, and much like how Paris Hilton walks around with her rat dog living in her purse (what dog wouldn’t want to live in a confined space packed with drugs) Marta would use this not so much as an accesory, but as more of a statement, to get people talking, to open up a dialog and break down the walls of misunderstanding. In this one photo Marta pays tribute to not only every downtrodden GLBTI actor and actress, but to every GLBTI person who has been shitlisted, shafted, derailed and denied the fundemental, and basic human rights that so many others enjoy. Cast aside your ribbons, and hold aloft the turkey baster as the international symbol of working around, and defeating archaic beliefs and systems, put in place to stop us progressing and procreating. Thank you for this gift Marta, thank you for giving us a visual to identify with, VIVA LA BASTER, VIVA LA MARTA!!.

    This collection is dedicated to Shelly, a fine person who knows her Simian style.

  • FROM THE FILES OF I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN I WAS GAY WHEN:

    During the big clean out of 2008 I found this photo in an old issue of TV Week magazine of Eric Oldfield, an Aussie actor, who appeared most memorably in ‘The Young Doctors’. My lust for Eric Oldfield goes back much, much further than that. In about 1973 Eric was the centerfold in Cleo magazine, not full frontal, but you saw enough. I remember seeing this, and I really think from that moment on the deal was sealed. I was fascinated by these photo’s, I was drawn to them like a sociopath to a McDonalds drive thru speaker. To this day I can see the pictures so clearly in my minds eye, obviously I didn’t know what it was back then when I was eight years old. It’s so funny, a friend just the other night saw this magazine photo I had laying around my house, he’s about the same age as me, and he gasped when he saw it. He went on to tell me how he had seen the Cleo centrefold and had been drawn to it as well. I mentioned this to my friend Matt in Melbourne, he too fessed up that Eric Oldfield in Cleo had had the same effect on him, and that he too could recall each detail of the photo’s. Anyone that can find me a copy of that issue of Cleo will be rewarded handsomely, I’d LOVE to scan it up and post it here.

  • Family ties.

    It’s a total pisser to me that huge amount of my family now lives in Queensland, but thankfully we have all stayed close. I was flicking through a photo album the other day, and found this photo of Adam and i, taken with my niece Michelle last year. The photo next to it showed me with my sister, as well as Michelle and her two sisters Kylie and Danielle in the surf at Mollymook, when we were just little kids. Whats with all this reflection lately with me?, pulling my old notice board to pieces, finding old photographs, throwing out a heap of old stuff i once clung to, am i De-nesting?.

    PIC 1: I was lucky enough to have a lot of my nieces and nephews born soon after me so the bonus is that they are all more like brothers and sisters to me than nieces and nephews, i was only seven when my third niece was born!

    PIC 2: Me, my big sister, and three nieces in the surf at Mollymook. Every summer the whole family, inc aunts, uncles, cousins etc would decend, en masse to Burill Lake on the south coast. Unless it was pissing down with rain, we would spend pretty much every day at the beach, not just one, but a whole array of beaches. I’m not exagerating when i say that, each day we spent hours swimming, and surfing on our Merrin surf mats. As soon as we got to the beach we would race in, and only come out every now and then for a drink, and lunch, which i remember as vegemite sandwiches, and orange Minor orange juice in a foam insulated drinks container. As soon as the food had settled in our bellies, we’d race off back into the water for another couple of hours. When i look at these old photo’s, i can’t believe how skinny i was, it must have been because of all the time we spent in the surf. Maybe i need to get myself a surf mat again.