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bitter69uk · 3 years

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Recently watched: The Girl in the Black Stockings (1957). Tagline: “She was every inch a teasing, taunting “come-on” blonde … and she made every inch pay off!” I’m using this period of enforced social isolation to explore the weirder corners of YouTube for long forgotten and obscure movies. (My boyfriend is accompanying me only semi-willingly).

Look, I don’t mean to overpraise what’s essentially a lurid minor exploitation b-movie. But in terms of low-brow fifties pulp thrills, the addictively trashy Girl in the Black Stockings veritably pulsates with prurience, misogyny, twisted psychology and an almost tangible revulsion towards sex. And it condenses its shock-by-shock twists into a taut 73-minutes.

While vacationing at The Parry Lodge, a luxe mountain resort in Utah, hunky Los Angeles-based attorney Dave Hewson (Lex Barker) tentatively romances shy Beth Dixon (Anne Bancroft), the hotel’s switchboard operator. We first encounter the couple dancing by moonlight at an outdoor pool party. “Are you breathing this hard because of me or the altitude?” Hewson suavely inquires. Their tryst is abruptly ruined when he lights a cigarette, and the flame illuminates a brutally slain female corpse in the bushes. The dead woman is Marsha Morgan – the local “good time girl” (prepare for lots of slut-shaming and blame-the-victim talk). Her throat has been slit – and her black stockings are in shreds! Suddenly, every guest and employee at Parry Lodge is a suspect – and what a menagerie of freaks they are! They’re all hiding sordid secrets, and they all seem guilty as hell. One thing’s for sure: as Hewson surmises, “We’re not dealing with an ordinary killer committing an ordinary crime!”

The hotel’s proprietor is Edmund Parry (Ron Randell), an embittered misanthropic quadriplegic who viscerally loathes women in general and Marsha Morgan in particular. “I must say, the man-eating witch deserved it!” he’s apt to declare. “She was poison. Like a disease! A common creature whose every word, every breath, every gesture, was the show of an empty shallow strumpet. Miss Morgan was an example of a completely justifiable homicide!” Edmund is doted on by Julia (Marie Windsor), his devoted-to-the-point-of-incest sister. Does Edmund’s paralysis eliminate him as the killer? (It’s hinted his disability is psychosomatic). And what about the hotel’s knife-wielding, blood-splattered Native American handyman Joe (Larry Chance)? Due to an alcoholic black-out, he can’t account for his actions on the night of Marsha’s murder. Or bad boy ex-con sawmill employee Frankie (Gerald Frankie), who was sexually entangled with Marsha? Meanwhile, faded matinee idol Norman Grant (John Holland) is staying at Parry Lodge while preparing for a screen comeback, accompanied by his platinum blonde paramour Harriet Ames (Mamie Van Doren). As more dead bodies begin cropping up (cut to newspaper headline exclaiming “Maniac Strikes Again!”), it becomes apparent a serial killer is stalking this remote desert town. Who will be next?

The Girl in the Black Stockings certainly boasts a fun ensemble cast. By this point, premium fifties beefcake leading man Lex Barker (a former husband of Lana Turner’s) had already portrayed Tarzan and was yet to feature in Federico Fellini’s La Dolce Vita (1960). Barker’s facial expression is permanently set to “pensive squint”, but we get copious glimpses of his wondrous physique, so who’s complaining? Today we remember Anne Bancroft as a heavy-weight credible “prestige” talent, but before she won her 1962 Best Actress Academy Award for The Miracle Worker, she paid her dues in b-movies like Don’t Bother to Knock (1952), Gorilla at Large (1954) and this one. Character actor John Dehner plays local sheriff Jess Holmes as if he’s wandered in from a Western. Tough-as-nails film noir broad Marie Windsor is cast against type in a virtuous “good girl” role. The Girl in the Black Stockings’ poster mischievously hints archetypal fifties bad girl and personification of moist womanly needs Mamie Van Doren is the film’s star (and the titular girl in the black stockings). In fact, her third-billed role as “the stunning blonde who lived for pleasure” is surprisingly small. Ultimately, it’s Ron Randell’s ferocious performance as the twisted-by-hatred Edmund that leaves the most indelible impression.

Because it was made in ’56 (when the Motion Picture Production Code was still enforced), The Girl in the Black Stockings can only imply the violence and kink. All the murders occur off screen, but the script compensates by having characters describe the mutilations in gruesome detail (“A girl was slaughtered and carved-up like a side of beef tonight!” “Those arms! Cut up like a jigsaw puzzle!”). Some particularly vivid moments: when one of the potential culprits is cornered by the cops at the lumber mill, he panics and falls into a buzz saw! And when a little girl discovers a dead body floating face down in the hotel’s pool, she giggles, “Look at that funny man!” Foreshadowing Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960), William Castle’s Strait-Jacket (1964), eighties slasher films and even David Lynch’s Twin Peaks (think of Marsha Morgan as the equivalent of Laura Palmer), The Girl in the Black Stockings offers a tawdry good time.

Watch the film here.

#the girl in the black stockings #vintage sleaze #lobotomy room #b-movie #exploitation cinema #sexploitation cinema #bad movies we love #bad movies for bad people #mamie van doren

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lesbianfreyja · 6 years

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dennis thinks he’s so smooth but his canonical idea of flirting is lines like “youre the one that’s.....good” and “it’s like we’re hat twins...” and thus i can’t imagine that he’d be any suaver trying to flirt with mac, even as his boyfriend. he thinks he’s so charming but they would probably get in lots of fights because even dennis’s simplest compliments go horribly wrong. for example:

what's in dennis's head: you're a hot slab of prime rib ;) you’re a premium free range beefcake and i wanna let you graze my field ;)

what dennis says: y-you.....cow

#like i said everything i post is just a copypaste of dumb shit i say to lexi and thats my right as an american or something #mac x dennis #dennis reynolds #iasip

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jennygirl2014 · 5 years

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Six-Inch Kickers *A Steve Rogers multishot*

****Okay, so here is a little fun for what very few readers I have left lol I haven’t written anything in a long time. I know that, I’m sorry. Here is a little drabble I wrote up but never finished! So...for the fun...I’m posting it. AND I want YOU GUYS to message me with ideas on how it should end. I will (and I promise I will) finish the fic with the best answer I get! So, be creative, be dirty, be fun, be fluffy, give it your best shot. Don’t be too brutal, this was written almost 2 years ago lol oh and fair warning, this has some adult language, adult themes and some hints of smut. Not really NSFW, but almost.

Part 1

The music was a little too loud for my liking, ringing in my ears and making the room vibrate. I had been in this scene before, only it was nowhere near as glamorous as this. After deciding to turn my life around I had grown adventurous and applied for a job at Stark Industries which I never thought I would get, or even consider myself. And yet, somehow it happened, and here I was, sitting behind a desk for nine hours a day in the best version of office apparel I could put together, and a loaded 22 concealed at all times. Having the gun of course just made me feel like a badass, I didn’t expect to ever use it, and I hoped I would never need to. Sometimes after a nine-hour shift there would be these rooftop parties, and it only made sense to go. Not only did I meet some of the most interesting people, but I was lucky enough to have my own suite in the building, and the music would keep me up anyway so it only made sense to attend these things. Times weren’t always this fun, after running away from home as a teenager and trying to support myself but failing I had ended up with five roommates in a small apartment, and a job that had me dancing on a pole wearing heels and nothing else. Now, I had my own cozy king size bed and a breathtaking view of the city.

If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was how to pick out a good outfit, and for these parties I had to look as good as I wanted to feel. I was used to those high heels from back in the day, and although I wasn’t required to wear those six -inch kickers, I usually settled on three or four, or five. I was feeling daring and took the old black strappy ones out, just to show off that I could still walk in them. A simple purple wrap dress was what I chose to sport, because it looks sophisticated and yet casual, and it’s easy to slip out of if need be. Was I trying to catch someone’s eye? Yeah, maybe, but not just anyone, I had my target on lock for one man in particular. I’m sure many women there were hoping for the same, but lucky for me, we had already been getting close in the past few months. Although I was worried that we were staring to cross into that dreaded friend-zone. I’m not an over confident woman, if anything I am the opposite, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t try and get what I wanted. The truth was I was kind of lonely, it was hard for me to let people in, and the man that I was secretly admiring just happened to be in the same boat.

“I’ll take a cosmo with three cherries, please.” I asked the bartender for my drink of choice while I leaned against the counter. I looked around the room a bit as I waited, hoping to see the familiar face I had been looking forward to seeing, but when I was out of luck I turned my attention to my drink and it was set in front of me. I took a few sips, minding my own business, when I heard his voice from behind me.

“Hey there,” Captain Steve Rogers’ voice broke my concentration, and I smiled before looking to my right to see him strolling up. He casually rested his arm against the bar and leaned in with a breathtaking smile. His teeth were so perfect, and his smile was like sunshine. Yes, when it came to Captain America I was like a little school girl with a silly, knee knocking crush. Well, except for the adult voice in my brain constantly reminding me how badly I wanted to rip his shirt off and ride him ten different ways to Christmas.

“Captain Rogers,” I addressed him with a sly smirk while lifting my drink to my lips.

“Emma, I keep telling you to call me Steve.” He chuckled, and I noticed his eyes falling directly onto my cherry colors lips.

“Sorry,” I apologized after taking a satisfying sip, “Keeps slipping my mind.”

“Look at you all dolled up.” He made what sounded like a compliment and I felt my cheeks starting to go rosy.

“Well, you know, can’t show up to these things in my pajamas.” I joked, and then he cut a playfully suspicious eye at me.

“Did you get taller?” he asked with a smirk. I bent my knee and lifted my foot to show him my fancy high heels. “Ah, that explains it.” He smiled at me once he brought his gaze back to my face. I had to convince myself that he was looking at my scandalous shoes, not my ass. “Do you enjoy coming to these things?”

“I do,” I sighed a bit, “But it felt like a good night to curl up and watch a good movie.” I admitted.

“So what’s stopping you?” he asked me innocently.

“The noise,” I shrugged, “But I also just felt like interacting a bit. It can get a bit lonely sitting behind that desk all day.”

“What kind of movies do you like?” he went back to the previous topic.

“All kinds I guess, lately I’m really into the classics, like Casablanca, To Kill A Mockingbird. I just got A Star is Born.”

“Really? I’ve been trying to catch up on my movies but there still is one I haven’t seen.”

“What’s that?” I was genuinely curious to know.

“Pretty Woman.” He admitted, and I dropped my jaw in shock and he laughed, “Yeah I know, it’s crazy.”

“Well I have it in my collection if you would like to come over some time.” I said without even really thinking, and then it hit me, just how that sounded.

He had been over to my place once before, but he didn’t stay long. He had offered to carry a package up to my room for me, and I gave him a glass of water after just to be courteous. That was about it. We had bumped into each other on a few occasions while out and about, we ended up having lunch together a week ago when he just happened to be sitting behind me at a local diner. And then there was that one time he changed my tire while I was stuck at work, and I thanked him with a cup of coffee. That was about it. Him being a gentleman, just as one would expect from him, and me repaying him with beverages. The thought of it all made me realize what a loser I was. But it’s not like you buy a guy flowers, right?

“Sure, that would be fun.” His eyes lit up at the idea, and it made me smile.

“Just let me know when.” I told him as I took another sip of my drink.

“Well…do you want to get out of here?” he asked me innocently, and I almost choked on my drink. I wasn’t expecting it to happen so fast.

“Oh,” I had to think of something to say, “Yeah…yeah I guess we could go watch it now.” He must have noticed me hesitating.

“Or we could do it another time.”

“No, no, it’s cool. I just wasn’t expecting that, but why not?”

“You said it felt like a good night for a movie so I just thought…” he sort of trailed off, maybe realizing it was a bit direct. I smiled again and chuckled, he was cute when he got flustered. Typical Steve, not wanting to overstep his boundaries.

“Yeah, sounds good.” I finished my drink in three swigs, trying to steady my nerves and summon the courage. “But just, give me one minute,” I said as I held up one finger. He nodded and walked away from the bar in the direction of the door. I leaned over the counter and demanded some more liquid courage, knowing I needed it. “A double for the road.” I spoke with urgency to the bartender. He chuckled as he poured me two shots worth of premium vodka in a small glass, and I grabbed it and tossed it back without a second thought. I grimaced as it burned my throat and set the glass down with a clank on the wooden counter. “Charge it to Mr. Stark’s tab, will ya’?” the bartended chuckled again but nodded. I knew Tony wouldn’t mind; he had the money after all. I made my way to the door, still swallowing the burning in my throat, and eventually saw my movie partner at the door.

“Ready to go?” he asked me as he offered his elbow, such a gentleman. I grinned and slipped my hand onto his strong arm.

“You bet.” I sounded too eager. We walked away from the booming party, but the sound of my heartbeat booming in my ears still had me shook.

We took the elevator down a couple floors and with our arms still linked I led him out of the elevator and towards my suite. We were quiet the entire way, not a word to exchange, which made me wonder if he was slightly nervous about coming back to my place. I couldn’t imagine that being the actual case, instead I figured he was simply not into the whole party scene, he was a more laid back, old fashioned kind of guy. He liked things quiet, simple, neat and in their place… oh crap. It had conveniently slipped my mind that my room wasn’t in its nicest state, maybe not even nearly ready for company, especially the company of a highly attractive god-like gentlemanly beefcake. I darted to the door and stuck my key in the lock but excused myself.

“Just give me a quick moment to, uh…tidy up. I wasn’t expecting company.” I blushed a bit as I tried to explain myself. He gave me a warm smile.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” He offered, but it wasn’t enough to convince me.

“No, no, no…just a moment. Just sixty seconds, I swear. Count to sixty and I’ll be back out.” I spoke in a rather frantic manner.

“You want me to count to sixty?” he chuckled.

“Yeah!” I opened the door, cracked it just enough to slip inside and then closed the door behind myself so tightly I almost closed my dress in there. How embarrassing.

In a fury I dashed around the apartment, I threw all of my dirty dishes into a heap in the dishwasher, not bothering to place things in there the correct way, then I ran into my bathroom and grabbed all of my dirty clothes off of the floor, bunching them in my arms as I scrambled to the next clothing item on the floor. By the time I had picked up all of my scattered clothes, my arms were full, and I hastily tossed them all in a basket that I hid in my closet. My sixty seconds were probably close to being up, so I had to keep moving fast. In a panic, I threw my covers back into place on my bed, placed the pillows back nicely on the couch and lit a scented candle just to be safe. I did a quick spin around my apartment, looking for anything I might have missed. No socks, underwear, bras or any other items of clothing on the floor. No messy dishes out. Candle lit. Bathroom clean, enough. No shoes laying around. Everything was good. I raced back to the door and flung it open, seeing Steve standing there with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face.

“I counted eighty-nine seconds,” he teased me.

“Well, better late than never.” I spoke, slightly out of breath, but I was feeling thankful that I had avoided embarrassing myself with my messy way of living, “Please, come in.” I stepped aside and let him walk through. He entered, slowly, while looking around my place casually.

“It’s nice.” He stated. I closed the door behind him and relocked it, just out of habit.

“It suits me fine.” I replied, trying to make small talk. I saw him about to kick off his shoes, “Oh, you can keep your clothes on.” I immediately went hot from head to toe at my Freudian slip, “I mean shoes!” I tried to quickly correct myself, but I knew he had heard me. He turned and looked with his eyebrows raised.

“Oh, good. I didn’t think taking your clothes off was required.”

“No!” and I laughed, entirely too loud. I was mentally kicking myself, trying to keep it together. “No, just shoes, but you can leave those on.” I was mortified. He was turning me into a prattling school girl, when I used to be super smooth. “You can take a seat on the couch.” I motioned over to my plush sofa, just wanting to sit next to him and get the movie rolling to avoid more embarrassment. He obliged, getting comfortable on one end of the sofa while I found the movie and put the disc in the player. Without meaning to, I stayed bent over instead of kneeling, and it wasn’t until I stood up that I realized how inappropriate that must have been. Damn that booze. At the same time, I knew my dress covered what it had to…barely. Upon turning around. I saw his eyes quickly dart away. Could it have been that he was looking? Well, I certainly gave him something to look at, that’s for sure. My ass was my greatest asset back in the day when I used to dance for dollar bills. But there was no way the modest Captain Rogers was checking out my ass. “Okay, movie’s in.” I tried to ignore what I had just caught and I took a seat on the other end of the couch, practically a mile away from him.

“Okay,” he let me know he was ready for the movie to start.

“Oh, would you like some popcorn?” the thought suddenly occurred to me.

“I don’t want to be any trouble.” He offered.

“No trouble at all. If you don’t want some, I’ll just eat it myself.” I shrugged as I stood back up.

“Well, it does sound nice.” He admitted. I had some microwave popcorn hiding somewhere, and after finally finding it in a cabinet, I threw it in the microwave and then rummaged around for something to drink. What would he like?

“Hey, how does a beer sound?” I offered him beer, since my wine was likely stale. He had to like beer, right?

“A beer sounds great.” He called back out to me. I popped the top off two bottles of beers, grabbed a bowl, waited for the popcorn to finish popping before pouring it into the bowl, and then headed back to the couch with everything in hand. I sat back down and set the two beers and popcorn on the coffee table in front of us. The movie had already started playing, I missed the first could minutes but I was fine with that. Afterall, I had seen the movie before, this was more about spending time with a certain someone.

I had just leaned back and got comfortable on the far end of the sofa, leaning against a pillow, when I noticed Steve squirm a bit. He twisted one way, and then another. He leaned forward, and then way back, and I was wondering what was going on. He seemed uncomfortable. Just as I was about to ask him what was wrong, he sat forward again and turned halfway towards me. “Feels like there’s something in the couch.” He mentioned to me. I had to quickly think, I didn’t hide anything back there in my mad dash to clean up, did I? He reached his hand down behind the decorate pillow and into the couch cushion and pulled out something. It was pink, long, had a ball at the end of it…oh God.

The man was sitting there with my massager in his hand.

Of all the things to ruin the evening, nothing could have been worse than that. My mouth went agape and my face flushed a hot, deep red. In the most awkward fashion, to match my embarrassment, he quickly set it down on the couch in between us. He had to have known what it was. I saw his cheeks turn a bright pink and he tried to casually wipe his hand down his denim covered leg. I wanted to sink back into that couch until it swallowed me whole so I could disappear. How could I have forgotten that I put it there the last time I used it? Why did he have to sit at that end of the couch? Without a coherent brain cell left in my skull, I uttered the only words that came to mind.

“Oh shit…” and then a pathetic scramble to cover my ass, “That’s not mine.”

#steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #chris evans

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recordicons · 5 years

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i know that you’re supposed to gather that bilbo suddenly decided to run off with the company on their quest that morning because he realized that he was unfulfilled in the shire and wanted to do something exciting with himself for once but also the idea of him hearing thorin singing in his living room and going “oh im big gay” and taking a night’s sleep to mull over how desperate it would look for him to leg it up to the group and join them just to get a shot at that piece of grade a premium beefcake before deciding fuck it let’s go? HEIGHT of comedy

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lattes-and-llamas · 5 years

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2018 Geek-A-Long: Honeydukes Hat

The 2018 #geekalong proudly presents the Honeydukes Hat!

For the last three Geek-A-Long premium patterns, we wanted to make sure to give you things that are handy for holiday knitting. A month ago, I released the Telepathy Hat and debuted our new extra chunky Beefcake Yarn. This time of year we all need some extra fast projects. Over the summer, I started dreaming up a few fast, easy, affordable (one – two skein) projects and basically, nothing beats…

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#Beefcake Yarn #Harry Potter #hat #Honeydukes Hat #Hufflepuff #knitting

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pparn · 2 years

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The Righteous Gemstones Season-Premiere Recap: Streaming Services, Amen

Eli is the most righteous of the Gemstones, almost by default — not merely because his sins are more discreet than those of other family members, but because he’s genuinely seeking salvation. The second season of The Righteous Gemstones opens with a seeming piece of misdirection, flashing back to Memphis in 1968, when a fresh-faced wrestler named the Maniac Kid, in Lone Ranger get-up, whips an Indian in full headdress over the top ropes. He then agrees to step in as a mighty henchman for his shady boss, snapping the thumbs of a deadbeat who won’t pay up. The kid is Eli Gemstone, and he’s got the devil in him.

Now presiding over the Gemstone empire, which includes a brand-new premium streaming service, Eli still carries the contradictions of his youth, when he was both showman and child of God, the Maniac Kid and the progeny of a humble Christian family. These contradictions cannot be reconciled, of course, and now they’re been amplified into this grotesque evangelical cash machine, which can buy him the image of righteousness (and political favors) without ever actually redeeming him. And much like Logan Roy in Succession — which seems more and more like a sister show to this one — Eli’s foul, greedy, dim-witted children are a reflection of his moral shortcomings and a sad reminder of the future that awaits his empire. No wonder Logan and Eli are both clinging to their posts with both hands.

As if he weren’t acutely aware of this spiritual predicament already, Eli gets an unwanted visitor from his past in Junior, played by Eric Roberts, an actor whose sinister oiliness dates back at least to Bob Fosse’s 1983 film Star 80, in which he played the husband and murderer of Playboy playmate Dorothy Stratten. Nearly 40 years later, Roberts still has an ease about him in the darkest roles, as if he’s comfortable in his villainy. There’s never a moment in “I Speak in the Tongues of Men and Angels” when his Junior feels ill at ease around Eli, despite the obvious fact that he doesn’t carry the same money or influence. He says he’s there for a friendly nostalgia trip with Eli — and Eli indulges the fiction by picking up a steak dinner at Sticky Stephen’s — but his purpose is to reacquaint himself with the Maniac Kid again. Once that Eli Gemstone reemerges, anything is possible.

After last season’s threats were suppressed with little consequence to the Gemstones — which enforces the show’s running theme about our tendency to endlessly forgive rich frauds — things are looking a little better for the family overall. Judy is out singing and dancing in front of a packed house at Gemstone Salvation Center, proving that she doesn’t need Baby Billy to realize her show-biz dreams. After she shot him in the ass for his lying and cavorting and coke-snorting, Jesse has earned back the trust of his wife Amber, and the two are casting their eyes on a new entrepreneurial venture. As for Kelvin, he has recruited a beefcake army called Kelvin’s God Squad, who together resemble the workers inside the gay steel mill in the John Waters episode of The Simpsons.

But there’s plenty of new trouble on the horizon. Jesse and Amber meet with another young-ish Christian power couple, the Lissons, Lyle (Eric André) and Lindy (Jessica Lowe), who entertain a massive congregation in Texas with a sexed-up rock show that’s like Quiet Riot for the spiritually immaculate. As first-born children of a lame boomer generation, the Gemstones and the Lissons have an instant connection, and it doesn’t take much for these Deep South snake-oil salespersons to convince Jesse and Amber to partner up on a Christian beachside timeshare in Florida. They don’t even have to see the property before saying “Yes.” And Eli doesn’t even have to see the numbers to say “No.”

There are solid reasons for Eli to object to the deal, like Jesse being a sleazy idiot or the Lissons seeming exactly like the sort of hucksters who might convince dupes to sink money in a timeshare along federally protected beachfront property. But he didn’t need to fly all the way down to Florida and get a tour of the proposed resort to reach those conclusions. He wants to humiliate Jesse in front of the Lissons for trying to inherit the Gemstone empire before the old man’s even thought about retirement. He waits for the right moment to say, “Stop showing off in front of your friends, Jesse,” and walks off the beach. That’s how the Maniac Kid breaks thumbs these days.

The other threat to the Gemstones this season gets a softer introduction than the Lissons. When a newspaper story on a televangelist named Makewon Butterfield gets published, citing evidence that Butterfield filmed his wife in flagrante delicto with another woman in a dance-club bathroom, that spells the end of the Butterfields on Eli’s streaming platform. But most of the brain trust comes to a different conclusion, one shared by many elites who have seen their brethren exposed for wrongdoing: Butterfield is not to blame for ruining his life; rather, the journalist who investigated him is. Once the parishioners’ cash hits the collection plate, following the money sounds like a big-city, anti-Christian agenda in action, right? The journalist here, played by Jason Schwartzman, isn’t done yet คาสิโน

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arplis · 5 years

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Arplis - News: Gloriously Over The Door Hanging Mirror

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