From IDontKnow@IDontCare Tue Apr 4 11:51:53 EDT 1995
Article: 55022 of alt.sex.movies
Newsgroups: alt.sex.movies
From: IDontKnow@IDontCare ()
Subject: Fresh Meat
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Date: Tue, 4 Apr 1995 06:16:49 GMT
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Status: RO
Apologies for errors, I was too preoccupied to write down names and
some of the actors were new to me
Fresh Meat, 1995
Writer, Director, Editor: John Leslie
With: Kristi Lynn, Felicia, Jen Deal, Annabelle Daye, Eva Flowers,
Joey Silvera, Ron Jeremy, Tom Byron, Jamie Gillis (fully dressed
cameo), and others
John Leslie was in the first flick I saw, Candy Goes to Hollywood, in
the old Pussycat Cinema off of Times Square. I hadn't gotten around
to renting any of his directorial work before and was pleasantly
surprised. Plenty 'o' sex, a plot of sorts, some dialogue, some
intrigue, general weirdness. Special effects include rapid
transitions between color and black and white, disynchronization of
sound, jump cuts, odd angles. Best of all, Leslie's claim of all
natural breasts is true - at least as far as I could tell
The rundown:
Tom Byron is in a bar applying make-up. Two soldiers come in and give
him a hard time - they want to make him squeal like a pig. A big
actress dressed in vinyl emerges from a side door, beats the crap out
of the unifoms and makes them kneel and beat their meat while Tommy
takes her every which way. Finally she allows them to come on her
shoe. Then Ron Jeremy emerges in a bloody butchers apron and presents
the two soldiers with pistols with the order to shoot each other.
Then we return to modern LA and I don't have the time to present the
plot in any coherent way. Suffice to say, Joey Silvera buys a house
with his wife (Kristi Lynn) and household pet (Annabelle Daye) despite
real estate agent Ron Jeremy's warning that it is haunted.
Joey goes to a bar where Eva rejects him acidly before getting fucked
in public by ? winding up in a facial. A bizarre interlude occurs
when Jamie Gillis shows up as Inspector Larue and arrests various cast
members for failing to remember their lines.
Back at the house, Joey fantasizes a three-way between Felicia (with a
strap-on), Jen Deal (a cutie if you like them thin and blonde) and
Kevin Patrick: Felicia pokes her dildo into all of Jen's holes as she
sucks Kevin. No come shot, alas.
The house is invaded by two Black studs who punch out Joey and screw
his wife.
Ron Jeremy is hatching some plot while Eva Flowers fellates him. The
whole thing is very mysterious. But no mystery about Eva's facial.
Joey is very depressed. He sticks his head in the oven. Ron Jeremy
arrives to berate. Joey indulges in multi-orifice penetration of his
cute blonde household pet.
In better spirits, he returns to the bar. Kristi Lynn shows up, all
out of sorts at his cavorting around and general distemper. He turns
her out for a gang bang in the parking lot as various non-participants
stand around and make comments.
The wrapup: production and cast values above par, and approaching the
standard of the Golden Age (tm). Kristi Lynn supplies an enthusiastic
performance, Ron Jeremy is becoming the Ratso Rizzo of porn. I'd like
to see more of Jen Deal.
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."