Monday, June 30, 2008

"This is a Bicentennial Minute..."


Though a shy, chubby kid who was often the target of bullies, I nonetheless had a fun-filled, almost idyllic childhood thanks to loving, present parents, several friends and the suburban equivalent of Little Rascals adventures. Thus my never-ending fascination with 1970's nostalgia.

All that is my way of announcing that this week's Sally Forth will focus on the Fourth of July to end all Fourth of Julys, the U.S. Bicentennial (with a nod to my childhood best friend Val Bianchini and our dads). So get ready to brush up on your Revolutionary War lessons, break out your Telstar, put on Nadia's Theme and demand that your parents take you to see Logan's Run.

And as a way to help get you in the Spirit of '76 mood, here's the first of five Schoolhouse Rock history lessons...


By the way, what is your favorite Fourth of July childhood memory?

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

My Nickname's True Meaning (According to Urban Dictionary)

1. CES
Close Eye Syndrome:
This strange physiologic feature/disorder, was first diagnosed in 1997 in York, Pennsylvania, by a college student who was not from the region. CES is increasingly common in the Pennsylvania/Maryland area, however, it can appear anywhere else where people do not have enough ocular separation. The symptoms include two very proximate eyes that appear to grow closer together over time. The unlucky carrier of CES does not know they have it, and while not in any way cross-eyed, they look like a fool. It is possibly more prominent in women than men.
Ryan: Dude, did you hear, Melissa got a nose job?
Steven: Why, she has CES, she should've gotten her eyes separated.
Ryan: CES?
Steven: You know, Close Eye Syndrome. She looks like a damn cyclops


2. CES
Stands for "Crazy European Sex"
Ready for some CES, baby?

There are also plenty of definitions for Francesco, some flattering, some not and some, well, prehistoric.

So what does your name mean according to Urban Dictionary?

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Your Official "Francesco Explains It All" Summer Horoscope

Aquarius: Sooner or later you are going to have to realize that all the alcohol, all the powerful hallucinogenics, all the anonymous sex with groups of three or four people at a time simply will not bring back Becker.

Pisces: Proclaiming that your new film is a wrenching exploration of existential crisis does not excuse that fact that your main character took a full two-thirds of the movie to decide between Dial and Lever 2000.

Aries: Everything will be going your way both professionally and personally until the fateful day you arrive home to find your dog sitting upright on your favorite chair, drinking your best sherry and stating, “Things are going to be a lot different from here on out. A lot different.”

Taurus: "I sure do like them Latinas" will prove no way to start an out-of-office automatic email reply.

Gemini: Breeding a new race of “lobstermen” will not only earn you the awe of your contemporaries but will more or less make the scientific community’s “publish or perish” credo a moot point in your case.

Cancer: Everything that you have been raised to believe, everything that you have ever held to be true will be completely discredited by a quote from Ali Lohan.

Leo: While the phrase "Your dreams shall shatter when the laughing tree knocks" sounds like a curious proverb, you'll be surprised just how matter-of-fact it truly is.

Virgo: Your insistence on referring to them as "clients" will only further put off the parishioners in your flock.

Libra: The heebie-jeebies, the willies, the screaming meemies and the jimjams will all prove to be just some of the daily drawbacks to accepting a job as the assistant to a clown.

Scorpio: Your suggestion to rename the magazine Backdoor Babes will be met by stunned silence from everyone at The Economist.

Sagittarius: Yelling “Get out of dreams, get into my car!” will not only fail to lessen your nightmares but also confuse the hideous creatures that inhabit within.

Capricorn: Your ongoing belief that “you have to fight for your right to party” will result in one of the most awkward company picnics ever.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Time Magazine: "Japan's Booming Sex Niche: Elder Porn"

Besides his glowing complexion, Shigeo Tokuda looks like any other 74-year-old man in Japan. Despite suffering a heart attack three years ago, the lifelong salaryman now feels healthier, and lives happily with his wife and a daughter in downtown Tokyo. He is, of course, more physically active than most retirees, but that's because he's kept his part-time job — as a porn star.

To read more--knowing full well that the first thing you are going to see is DVD cover art for elder porn--go here.

Special Note: This blog post in no way whatsoever has any relation to my previous blog post save for the topic of pornography...Man, when did this site take such a wrong turn?

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

The Belated Father's Day Post

Pornography gets a bad rap these days by parents and politicos alike. But they don’t see the upside to porn. They don’t focus on porn’s positive effects on society. And they don’t realize just how porn brought a father and his six-year-old son that much closer together.

Back in the early to mid-70’s, porn was enjoying a cultural resurgence, thanks in large part to such travelogues as Last Tango in Paris, Debbie Does Dallas and The Wild World of Spurts.

During that time my dad was a graphic package designer best known for designing the logos for Pepsi, American Airlines, Folgers and Winston Chewing Tobacco, a product that once had as its working tagline—“Put a Little Winston in Your Mouth.”

But my dad longed for bigger things. All his life he wanted more than anything to be a cartoonist. Every Saturday morning he and I would sit on the sofa and watch Hong Kong Phooey, Charlie Chan and the Chan Clan and a whole host of Hanna-Barbera cartoons that inexplicably traded on Asian stereotypes, all leading up to our very favorite cartoon…

Bugs Bunny.

Every night my dad would work on his cartoon and comic art submissions, hoping for that day he would be struck by that one grand idea, that one unequivocal moment of creative brilliance.

That moment finally arrived when he drew this…

The Original Orgy Shirt—151 naked people, six dogs and what I thought until the age of 11 was sponge cake at the very top, all engaged in gleeful sexual congress.

Sensing he had hit upon the right drawing for the right decade (and still smarting from the fact that Milton Bradley had refused to buy his party game Pick-a-Dick)…


Dad pulled together the funds and ran an ad (copy written by Screw Magazine and Channel J founder Al Goldstein) for his new shirt in Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler, Oui, Cheri, Cherry Popper, Beaver Park and New York Magazine.

The Original Orgy Shirt proved an instant hit and soon dad and I were making weekly drop-offs at such “alternative clothing” places as the Pleasure Chest. There dad conducted business while I wandered the store, checking out the zipper masks and ball gags, because when it came to leaving your six-year-old child unattended in a car in Lower Manhattan circa 1974 or bringing him into an establishment that sold actual pee soup, the latter was by far the wiser choice.

The Original Orgy shirt was such a hit that my dad started to draw and sell others, including Tits, Up Yours, FootsieBall, ASL “Fuck You,” and, of course, Cockamania. But it was the Orgy shirt that got the most attention. It won several international design awards, led to three Penthouse models doing a photo shoot on the glass table we still eat Christmas dinner on and inadvertently resulted in me being verbally accosted at age seven…

...by actor Sam Elliot over a bowl of mood rings when my family spent our spring-break vacation at the 1975 Daytona Adult Film and Entertainment Expo (where Mr. Elliot was promoting his film Lifeguard).

Over the next few years my dad started receiving countless orders from U.S. Ambassadors, Bank Presidents, Newspaper magnates…

...and Malcolm Forbes, seen here ordering two Orgy shirts on News Years, 1975…And paying for it on the company dime.

But perhaps the single most important order arrived on July, 1974, which read (click on image to make larger):

Now for those of you who had the sheer gall to be born after 1985, Mel Blanc was the voice--if not the soul--of Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Porky Pig, Sylvester the Cat, Tweety Bird, Foghorn Leghorn, Yosemite Sam, Wile E. Coyote, Barney Rubble, Mr. Spacely, and literally hundreds of other cartoon characters that my Dad watched and discussed throughout my childhood. So when dad opened this letter he quickly knew it was more than a simple T-shirt order. It was a chance to provide his son with a keepsake he knew would mean all the world to him. So he immediately mailed several T-shirts, politely asking that in return the man who gave so much joy to him and his son on those Saturday mornings give them one more thing. Less than three months later I received this autograph:

And the following response (click on image to make larger):

And that, my friends, is why pornography works.
Thank you.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Complete Fabrications from My Upcoming Autobiography "Ces: That's Not How It's Pronounced"

"People are always saying, 'Michael Nesmith's mom invented Liquid Paper.' But no one ever asks, 'Who invented Michael Nesmith's mom?' Let me tell you how I did it..."

"When the first draft of A Brief History of Time arrived it was 1385 pages. I had to make some tough edits. Removed an entire subplot about a magical amulet and 'Robbits.' Stevie was mortified but I think the sales speak for themselves."

"When I can't sleep I rescue people. Usually from burning buildings. Sometimes from awkward conversations."

"But my second-grade teacher just threw my history report right back at me, saying, 'China will never be a geoeconomic powerhouse.'"

"The next morning I awoke in a bathtub of ice with two fresh surgical scars and a note on the floor that read, 'We took your breasts.'"

"When I first pitched Blues Clues I envisioned it in black and white with heavy shadows, a hardboiled narration, double-crossing dames, lost souls rotting in every alleyway and cheap cigarettes dangling from every lip. Blue was suppose to die at the end. Steve was suppose to shoot him."

"I'm an old-school kind of guy. I almost never cry. But when I do the tears make enough gold to pay all my bills."

"Quang Tri, 1972. I was up to my ears in the shit and out of my mind with fear. The water, the trees, the air. None of it seemed real to me anymore. And as the bullets screamed across the swamp, the blood-curdling cries of my unit filled the sky and hope was choked out of all of us with our every short, hollow breath one thought kept coming back to me again and again and again--'For the love of God, I'm only five years old!'"