Exotic Magazine - Issue 342
Volume 30 - Number 2 (August 2022)
by Bryan A. Bybee
Erotic City is back to its full page-and-a-half splendor after two months of appearing as a mere shell—a measly 250 words. It’s kinda like that nostalgic PDX carpet (@pdxcarpet) that you ignored and even hated while having the privilege to walk on but threw a fit when it was removed. Well, your tantrums worked, just like they did for the return of the carpet earlier this year, and we’re grateful you missed E.C. (Admittedly, we only heard from two people, and one lived in Florida, but it’s the thought that counts!)
Being back to full length doesn’t come without some new guidelines, however. I’m not supposed to delve into political tangents, insult paying advertisers, or write negatively about their establishments (apparently, non-advertisers and those that don’t pay their bills are still fair game), and "absolutely no references to pornographic material that feature persons of short stature"—and I quote. When I first received these new precepts, my immediate reaction was, "well, WTF in the actual FUCK am I going to write about then?!" Talk about castration! Oh, and I’m supposed to "refrain from incessant use of profanity." Whatever, dude...
by Blazer Sparrow
I try not to doxx myself too much in this widely-read rag, but—full disclosure—my birthday is in August, so I figured I’d use this month’s column to make a little wish list of acts I’d love to see in some gaudy, nostalgia-drenched, cash-grab reunion before I die. These are all groups where everyone is still alive, so if any of you are out there and reading this for some reason, make my dreams come true. Please and thank you.
Thanks to Coachella, there really isn’t any pop group under the sun that hasn’t done a blatantly financially-influenced reunion. A friend asked me which ’90s band I’d like to see reunited a while back, and we both realized they all already have. I’m also well aware that seeing a decades-older version of some ’80s alt legends is not going to be the same as seeing them in their prime. However, I think the following acts have been defunct for so long it would probably be worth the overpriced ticket and garbage stadium sound.
Keep in mind this is also a wish list. Guaranteed, none of these reunions will ever actually happen, and I’ll explain why. But still, it’s my birthday, and a man can dream, right?...
by Wombstretcha
Summer is upon us, and though weather patterns seem to be quite unpredictable, we here in the Pacific Northwest understand that these are our three months where it’s not raining constantly. In celebration of this, many of us do delightful and pleasant recreational things, such as visiting our beaches or coastal environs, camping in our forests, and, of course, engaging in the fine art of barbecue.
Barbecue has a storied history, which I won’t get into, as that’d be an article in of itself. However, my recent interests have involved the barbecue grill’s cousin: the smoker.
For gear, I have a mid-level vertical pellet smoker. Not one of those fancy ones or anything, as I ain’t got that kinda dough. It’s basically just a box with smoke in it. A couple of hundred bones, it cost me. Now, perhaps you’re thinking, "well, fuck you, that’s still more than I care to pay to smoke things, I got kids to feed and strippers to tip," well, you’re right. If it’s not accessible, then why bother? However, hope is not lost. One can get that sweet-ass smoke, even if all you have is a teeny little charcoal Hibachi grill or a flaming garbage can. Search for a device called a "smoke tube"—a ten-to-twenty-dollar-ish little contraption that can hold wood chips or pellets and will bring the smoke flavor to you for cheap!...
by Esmeralda Rupp-Spangle
This planet has been here for a damn sight longer than we have and, through its history, has been inhabited by a whole array of wacky creatures. From giant ground sloths that weighed up to 4 tons (Megatherium), to millipedes as long as a car (Arthropleura), to Glyptodons (think of an armadillo with a turtle shell that’s the size of a fucking Volkswagen). Our most enthusiastic collective fascination, however, is reserved for dinosaurs. With that in mind, let’s review some of the more obscure, wacky, off-the-wall dinosaur-related facts...
by Bryan A. Bybee & Barnaby Bandini
Local industry news and events...
Featuring Savannah from Dv8...
by Hannah One Cup
I recently had to experience one of the hardest losses I’ve gone through in my life, the loss of a friend who had been there for a decade. This dumb son of a bitch decided to up and leave while we were driving home one day. It happens, life sucks, and death is our birthright. But the death of a pet, a dog, seems to hit harder than any one death of a human.
This might be because humans are, in general (and painting with a very broad brush), total pieces of shit. And the fact that animals never see it coming. They are blissfully unaware of their impending death, or so I believe. I’m not a dog, so I can’t exactly tell you what was going on in his pea-sized brain the few moments before it happened. But I like to think he was confused and possibly wondering what treats and how many mom was going to give him when he got back.
So, it happened, and I then had to drive him to the vet...to take care of the necessary accommodations for cremation. For the entirety of the drive to the vet, I was yelling and screaming at this guy, George, to wake up and stop being lazy. Yelling and screaming. But I knew what had happened. No amount of yelling, pets, or gentle shoves would alter this event or revert it back to what it had been three minutes earlier...
by Elise Fontaine
Living Orpheus has left me with fond memories of his eagerness to devour me whole. The last piece of me lingers on his tongue, no matter who lives or dies. I never felt such complete desire and sincere longing from anyone else in my life. I can only hope that if I were the one gone now, he’d say the same had come from me to him.
Truthfully, I worry that I will not feel such a depth of yearning for complete union from another ever again. Either because such depth comes only once in a lifetime or because, in my adamant grief, I won’t allow it to reach me again. How could I, when I feel Orpheus waiting for me at the edge of the beyond? Erect in his precision to ignite my psychic attention. My body aches for him each night, even after more than three years without his physical touch. Sometimes I sense him caught in the neither-neither, pulling me toward him but also pushing me back into the realm of the living because he knows love requires selflessness...
photos by Ralph Walker
Photos from DJ Dick Hennessy’s latest adventure...
