You can imagine my delight/disappointment when, while desperately tearing apart the attic in search of my September 1984 issue of Penthouse, the one with Traci Lords, I instead came across this little gem of pre-history. Since I mentioned in a recent post, in passing, that we used to be a print publication, many an astute reader has been pestering me about getting their hands on something from this legendary era. So here you go, Knockers out there – one of the few issues I can find. What a piece of shit! The ads are funny though, I’ll scan some and add them here. When I have time mind you, I’m kind of totally fucking busy. (UPDATE so I did scan some pages, see below. I’m still kind of totally busy just so you know, fyi.)
And if you’re Traci Lords and reading this, Traci, I know you must have heard this countless times over the course of your illustrious career, but I am certain that in my case it is the absolute unquestionable truth: I feel I know you, I mean the real you, who you are, not just as an artist but also your private personal aspirations, your motivating passions and above all your inner beauty. I feel I understand you and that we, you and I, are very much alike in every possible way.
Because I also know your pain, isolation and fear. Fear that one day you will see a beautiful young woman (you had no idea how young – she was only 16, but nobody knew) in a magazine and fall instantly and eternally in love with her and then write her letters, one every year on her birthday, hoping she will leave her successful life to be with you. To live in your parents’ basement with you and change her last name to yours, after legal marriage of course. Fear that she will never respond ONCE to any of your letters. FEAR that you will lose that magazine, the first time you saw her, the only copy you ever owned of that holiest of all documents and instead you find just a dented up copy of a stupid kiddie comic you put only your WHOLE HEART AND CREATIVE SOUL INTO BUT NOBODY GAVE A SHIT and not even in near mint condition either, not like if even then it would have any, like, Overstreet value if that’s even a GODDAMN THING ANYMORE AH FUCK, AH FUCK, F-F-FUCK-K
(hot, fat, heavy teardrops plopping onto computer screen)