Wednesday, October 27, 2021

soggy biscuits.

Usually watch this over Christmas due to  the girl on the cover looks like a novelty bauble but popping it in the 31 Days of Horror thing seeing as it's nearly over and frankly I can't be bothered seeing as absolutely no-one is reading it.


Entrails of A Virgin (AKA Guts of A Virgin, Shojo no harawata. 1986)
Dir: Kazuo ‘Gaira’ Komizu.
Cast: Saeko Kizuki, Naomi Hagio, Megumi Kawashima, Osamu Tsuruoka, Kazuhiko Goda, Osamu Tsuruoka and Hideki Takahashi.


Welcome to mid-eighties Japan, where all the young women dress like Purdey from The New Avengers and all the guys have her haircut.

Did the local shop have a run on bowls or something?

Anyway off in the mountains just outside Kurashiki, young Rita (Kizuki, of Women in Heat Behind Bars fame) and her gal pals Kazza (Pinku no kaaten and Chokugeki! Ryôjoku-shi star Hagio) and Dave (frighteningly pointy chinned Kawashima in her only role) are busy working on a photo-shoot for top fashion and lifestyle magazine Spunkmonkey alongside famed photographer cum human hamster Ken (Tsuruoka - best known for Monzetsu!) and his assistants Alan (Katô, star of Katte ni shiyagare hey! Brother) and Gordon (Takahashi from the Sôsa keiji Chikamatsu Shigemichi movie series).

Bloody Hell that was a lot of words.

Less over the rainbow, more under it and just behind the bins.

Beginning with your average cheesy grins and shoddy swimsuit shots the whole thing soon degenerates into a sea of wet breasts, straining groins and bullet nippled naughtiness as each girl tries her best to convey the adult nature of the film.

Pity then the whole thing is backed by a cock bothering sub-standard light n' breezy jazz score.

I mean it's like trying to masturbate in a lift.


Content with giving the (male) audience members something to fiddle over for ten minutes the merry band decide to pack up and head home in their decidedly Lego-like camper van backed by even more inappropriate cheesy listening music.

And it's these sinisterly shite sounds coupled with the male casts heady mix of untouched erections, egg stained shirts and sweat that - probably - causes a mysterious fog to rise making driving any further than the local - and deserted - community centre impossible.

Luckily tho' it's is well stocked with booze and food.

Alongside massive boxes of shaving foam and condoms.

What are the chances eh?

As my dad always said  if you want to wank over someone with the body of a 12 year old boy just get over it and find yourself an actual 12 year old boy....then report yourself to the police obviously.

Settling down for an evening of piss-weak drink, various spicy snacks and the hope of some sordid yet crisply shot arse banditry, our gleeful group excitedly get the party started, unaware that they're being stalked from the bushes by a muck encrusted someone - or something - that's less than human.

A something with a penis the size of a large baby.

A large baby with a really pronounced spine.

And a massive head.

"Paging Mr. Herman..."

Back at the community centre (did we ever really leave?) things are hotting up with Alan and Kazza indulging in a bout of underpant wrestling whilst a very sweaty Ken decides to try out his smooth seduction techniques on Rita.

For anyone that's interested in trying these techniques for themselves next time you're out they involve violently licking your (preferably huge) sausage fingers and forcing them up a ladies skirt.

Whilst  dribbling.

Surprisingly Rita actually seems impressed.

I obviously hang about the wrong type of places.

What your mum gets up to on her bingo night.

Meanwhile in the bushes, the beast man watches intently.

As the party starts to wind down and our loved up losers start to go their separate ways  (for more sex obviously) the big bollocked brute strikes, murdering the group one by one.

For the men it's beheadings and impailings but for the women it's death by demonic dong.

Who will survive unscathed?

"Put it in me!"

Good old Kazuo Komizu, not content with nicknaming himself after a 1960's flesh eating movie monster and writing the screenplays to literally dozens of top drawer erotic thrillers (everything from Female Market to Go! Go! to the criminally under-rated Second Time Virgin), he decided -  whilst midway thru' his second decade as a writer - to re-invent himself as Japan's answer to Joe D'amato creating as he did a brand new genre that consisted of (very) short movies containing nothing but arse, tits and sexual violence.

Pure, unadulterated exploitational sleaze for the bedroom bound, masturbation obsessed masses.

And for that at least we should be grateful.

I think.

Jeremy Beadles final wish.

It's scary to think that back in the dim and distant 80's that you could be arrested, stoned and then hung for even thinking about this movie because when viewed today it's all rather quaint with it's rough as road surfacing actresses, gore effects that look like they were conceived by a hook-handed child, comedic non-acting from the men - all nail biting and worried frowns - topped off with the most unattractive cum faces since you accidentally came across you mum and dad at it on the sofa that New Year when you were a small boy.

Obviously tho' neither of them were masturbating with a severed arm.

Cheerfully cheap and nasty (a wee bit like your dad) and with the greatest comedy cock this side of Boogie Nights - honestly, what's not to love?

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