Vintage Ad: The Oz, 1979

Vintage Ad: The Orgasmatron, 1975

WHAT SORT OF MAN READS PACO CAMINO?

Despite the cold temperature outside, women burn hot inside for the Paco Camino Man. Maybe it’s his Brylcreem snow shield hair or the way he wears his stretch-fit polyester ribbed turtlenecks coordinated with tonal urban overcoats, but attractive women everywhere just want to bone his ass. And every Christmas this unassuming stud proves ‘going green’ isn’t merely a fad; it’s a way of life. Using just three pieces of tape and some yarn to wrap his big package, both Heidi and Rita can’t help fantasize about another naked fireside chat on his bearskin rug. Dude, better call the acquisitions office because you’ll be working on some delicate skin mergers clear through New Year’s.

Stevie Wonder. "I Can See The Sun in Late December" live!

I'll meet you at the Regal Begal.

The mighty Fu Manchu deliver a Christmas miracle for stoners everywhere.

WHAT SORT OF MAN READS PACO CAMINO?

He’s had a trying year. Deep in thought en route to his exclusive resort in the Catskills, the Paco Camino Man speeds past snow-covered fields in his private rail car with his devoted woman. Sharing a bottle of rare vodka, he’s suffering from the devastating loss of his best friend’s life, and recently shaken to the core by the callous actions of a once noble lifelong colleague. But somehow, despite all the wearing & tearing, the Paco Camino Man still dresses like a mastodon of manliness—check out his cognac raccoon coat from New York City’s Barlan Furs, ribbed turtleneck by Pringle of Scotland and $2,000 caramel leather pants from Rafael Fashions. Like high fashion, grief and loathing have a shelf life. One day, he knows, the ice age will melt.

This Christmas, bestow good fortune and joy in love.

Decadent Smut: Christina’s Rapture, 1978

A SENSUOUS VOYAGE INTO THE MYSTERIES OF PASSION
No ship--even one as massive and opulent as the S.S. Monterey--can
contain Christina van Bell in her passionate pursuit of pleasure. Both
on board and in exotic ports of call, she is the passenger extraordinaire,
as willfully uninhibited as she is breathtakingly beautiful.

Vintage Ad: A.I. shirts, 1975

WHAT SORT OF MAN READS PACO CAMINO?

He’s PETA’s worst fucking nightmare. Engulfed in more endangered fur than a prehistoric caveman from Antarctica, this leathery outdoorsman keeps his women warm with enough animal pelts to choke Zsa Zsa Gabor. Seriously, this guy has more fur than a Russian street pimp stationed in Afghanistan during a winter holocaust. Anyway, out on a dogsled run on his sprawling mountainside retreat, the Paco Camino Man leads the pack with his perfectly chiseled facial features and Blagojevich mane of thick dark hair. Better save your strength ladies, because tonight this sexual Iditarod will conclude inside by the fireplace on a giant bearskin rug. Ironically, bareback.

And now a word from our sponsor. That's life--Sanyo!

Damn fine listening material. The Grasshopper, 1970