God knows all the shit I took isn’t worth one thing…

I got a letter from Hugh Hefner yesterday. “Dear Subscriber,” he so personally opened. “It’s not everyday [sic] I write a letter like this.”

Dear Hugh, “everyday” means “commonplace.” “Every day” means “every day.”

Hugh goes on to tell me that he just learned that I’m no longer receiving issues of Playboy at home. Well, I never was. I have a PO Box like any cleverly surreptitious pervert. “If you don’t mind me saying,” Hugh says, “I’m a bit surprised.” Me too, Hugh. But let’s face it, once you defrocked Debbie Gibson, where could you go? Nia Peeples? Taylor Dane?

Speaking of nudity, the wonderful people at Seduction Cinema (part of EI Cinema) sent me a copy of Jim Wynorski’s latest production, Lust Connection. I’ve been a fan of his for years. Ever since he directed Traci Lords’ first legit feature, Not of this Earth. Sure, you’ve got Corman (who did the original Not of this Earth) and Meyers–the legends–but it’s guys like Wynorski who keep exploitation film alive. He’s out there slugging it out but always making a quality product. Essentially, Wynorski makes Hollywood B-movie fare but anytime you as a viewer think, “I’d be more interested if that woman were nude,” he gets her nude.

Lust Connection concerns Dr. Rick Taylor, the chief suspect in his wife’s death. The investigation (if you can call a detective showing up at his house every ten minutes that) soon uncovers (if you can call him confessing everything to the cop that) Rick’s many affairs. Suddenly, dozens of women are likely murderers. Fortunately, for us and the cop, Rick’s confessions include detailed flashbacks. For the discerning PO-box-having fan, many of the co-stars are best known for their blue films–Avy Scott, Jodie Moore and Chasey Lain (who looks terrifying–like Mary Kate Olsen injected full of silicone and possessed by the devil) all make appearances. Essentially, Wynorski equals genius.

On a completely un-nude note, I got a copy of Keymaster‘s new CD, The Lords of Everything, in the mail. It rules. It’s heavy as hell, catchy as hell and hysterical but never silly. Unfortunately, I have to turn the effer up to 50 to hear everything properly. Oh my God, I’ve been waiting so long for guitar leads like these to come back. I fight for metal.

I had so much other kickass stuff to write about–like how the Black Eyed Peas have certainly gotten their act together since they were called Arrested Development–but none of it comes to me now. I have another browser window open and I’m periodically screwing around in it, visiting sites that I’m not really interested in. I think that’s a sign to get the hell up from the computer and go do something active.