From [email protected] Thu Nov 9 13:24:26 EST 1995
Article: 81904 of alt.sex.movies
Newsgroups: alt.sex.movies
Path: news.eznet.net!news.sprintlink.net!eskimo!news
From: [email protected]
Subject: Review: Latex
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Organization: Strange Attractors
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Date: Thu, 9 Nov 1995 16:58:04 GMT
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Status: RO
Michael Ninn has received much flack in this group for his attempts to
create a better class of fuck film, attempts which generally infuriate
due to their combination of large (for xxx) budget, better than
average visual imagination, and utterly pretentious story line and
vapid dialogue. Take away Rinse Dream's deadpan wit, take away the
Dark sense of fine filth, and you have Ninn.
His latest offering, Latex, serves up the usual goulash of good
looking women in hi-kitsch settings and pompous blathering which for a
change is delivered not in voice-over, but as soliloquys by John
Dough.
If he serves no other purpose on screen (and he doesn't),Jon Dough
provides an object lesson in the true nature of bad acting. The next
time you read some critique of an actor's abilities, ask yourself if
he or she could possibly achieve Dough's combination of ineptitude and
pretentiousness. Most of Dough's screen time finds him clothed and
chattering, and he wields wood only in one scene with Barbara Doll.
In a dystopian near-future, Dough plays a sexual empath whom the
authorities have sequestered in an asylum. Ripping a page out of Greg
Dark's Between the Cheeks, Dough imagines a series of sex scenes - we
think...
Sunset screws a guy in a 1950's kitchen. The scene opens with some
nice foreplay for a change before winding up on the table. She takes
the tour, including a missionary anal, before sticking out her tongue
to receive a few drops of spunk,
Dough does Doll, mostly in a doggy anal.
Tyfany Million plays a shrink examining Dough. After some dreary
monologue which had my finger on the FF double plus quick, he projects
her fantasy of getting screwed by an orderly in all her orifices.
Juli Ashton receives Dough on her cable sextalk show. Pomp, pomp,
pomp. He has a flashback of a "dramatic" scene with Jeanna Fine in
which she displays far more thespian talent than he'll ever have.
Juli's fantasy is fun with Cal Jammer and Tom Byron. No DP, but Tommy
tails her as she fellates Cal before receiving a double love offering
on her chipmunk cheeks.
Four unrecognizeable girls in different colored latex ensembles play
with each other before a mysterious stranger walks in naked. He does
two of them while the other two seem bored as they stroke themselves
with toys.
Sunset does another guy in the kitchen. No tail this time, but a
better facial.
Then comes some stupid scene out of 1984 or 1935 Nuremburg, with Dough
bound and fortunately gagged for a change. Jeanna Fine gets DP'ed on
a table. supposedly in front of a crowd. Unfortunately, we don't get
any full body shots, just Jeanna from the front and the usual
gynecological travel footage.
Sunset closes the film by having a penis shaped hose spray her with
ersatz semen. Whatthehell?
Well, won't get fooled again.
--
A Malakoff A skeleton is just something to
Seattle WA USA hitch the meat to. (anon)
169 “I can arrange all that.” Such Apaches as had not gone back on the war-path returned to the States with the troops; but there were five months more of the outrages of Geronimo and his kind. Then in the summer of the year another man, more fortunate and better fitted to deal with it all, perhaps,—with the tangle of lies and deceptions, cross purposes and trickery,—succeeded where Crook had failed and had been relieved of a task that was beyond him. Geronimo was captured, and was hurried off to a Florida prison with his band, as far as they well could be from the reservation they had refused to accept. And with them were sent other Indians, who had been the friends and helpers of the government for years, and who had run great risks to help or to obtain peace. But the memory and gratitude of governments is become a proverb. The southwest settled down to enjoy its safety. The troops rested upon the laurels they had won, the superseded general went on with his work in another field far away to the north. The new general, the saviour of the land, was heaped[Pg 305] with honor and praise, and the path of civilization was laid clear. Parliament met on the 10th of January, 1765. The resentment of the Americans had reached the ears of the Ministry and the king, yet both continued determined to proceed. In the interviews which Franklin and the other agents had with the Ministers, Grenville begged them to point to any other tax that would be more agreeable to the colonists than the stamp-duty; but they without any real legal grounds drew the line between levying custom and imposing an inland tax. Grenville paid no attention to these representations. Fifty-five resolutions, prepared by a committee of ways and means, were laid by him on the table of the House of Commons at an early day of the Session, imposing on America nearly the same stamp-duties as were already in practical operation in England. These resolutions being adopted, were embodied in a bill; and when it was introduced to the House, it was received with an apathy which betrayed on all hands the profoundest ignorance of its importance. Burke, who was a spectator of the debates in both Houses, in a speech some years afterwards, stated that he never heard a more languid debate than that in the Commons. Only two or three persons spoke against the measure and that with great composure. There was but one division in the whole progress of the Bill, and the minority did not reach to more than thirty-nine or forty. In the Lords, he said, there was, to the best of his recollection, neither division nor debate! His cheek paled for an instant as the thought obtruded that the man might resist and he have to really shoot him. "Good, the old man's goin' to take the grub out to 'em himself," thought the Deacon with relief. "He'll be easy to manage. No need o' shootin' him." "Them that we shot?" said Shorty carelessly, feeling around for his tobacco to refill his pipe. "Nothin'. I guess we've done enough for 'em already." John Dodd, twenty-seven years old, master, part of the third generation, arranged his chair carefully so that it faced the door of the Commons Room, letting the light from the great window illumine the back of his head. He clasped his hands in his lap in a single, nervous gesture, never noticing that the light gave him a faint saintlike halo about his feathery hair. His companion took another chair, set it at right angles to Dodd's and gave it long and thoughtful consideration, as if the act of sitting down were something new and untried. "Besides," Norma said desperately, "they're only rumors—" "Oh, I've found a way of gitting shut of them rootses—thought of it while I wur working at the trees. I'm going to blast 'em out." During the next ten years the farm went forward by strides. Reuben bought seven more acres of Boarzell in '59, and fourteen in '60. He also bought a horse-rake, and threshed by machinery. He was now a topic in every public-house from Northiam to Rye. His success and the scant trouble he took to conciliate those about him had made him disliked. Unprosperous farmers[Pg 124] spoke windily of "spoiling his liddle game." Ditch and Ginner even suggested to Vennal that they should club together and buy thirty acres or so of the Moor themselves, just to spite him. However, money was too precious to throw away even on such an object, especially as everyone felt sure that Backfield would sooner or later "bust himself" in his dealings with Boarzell. "Let's go home," she said faintly—"it's getting late."