Just An Old-Fashioned Stag Film
Introduction by Micheal Huggins

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Things have changed, man. Porn just ain’t the same animal anymore. Too many ducks in the soup, as they say. Too much trash in the basket. Too many POVs and hacked together sequels to sequels of Lesbian Fish Taco Gobblers, Vol. 6.

In the sixties and seventies it was real crime: the Behind the Green Door days, the Deep Throat, Taboo and Debbie Does days. Real stars and drugged out brutalizations. Real celluloid. It was a pervert’s business, and a lot of people got chewed up in the process. But even in the violence and slaveries, there was an eroticism that in retrospect seems nearly artistic in its self-absorption and shtick humor.

And it was risky, man, it skated a line. You can see it in the posters: painted images and pop design aesthetics, campy pun marketing and titles. That kind of shit ruins careers; you don’t get away with that stuff in a bottom-line world. But there’s still something there in the cheap ornamentation, something playful that just ain’t there anymore…