by Heather DrainYou’ve seen it; we’ve all seen it. (Well at least those of us enough huevos to admit it.) You’re at the local video store and greeting your line of vision is the back room door, it’s seclusion promising you sights that may tantalize you, turn you on, or even scare the living bejeesuz out of you. What carnal delights await you in the 18+ video room?
Well unless you have time traveling powers or an exceptional video store, you will be greeted with scores of generic faces and bodies being pried open and splattered with semen. Worst of all is that none of these porn clones have the decency to even look like they are into it. At all. It’s like getting psyched up for a blind date with an exotic stranger and being greeted by your old Science teacher naked and with a dingus up his butt. Gross, wrong, and ultimately disappointing.
1968 was a VERY prolific year for Wood. He wrote around 10 novels (confirmed) including this one. Originally titled Lost Souls Delivered (the brilliant Wood euphemism for LSD), you may have already guessed that sex and drugs are the topic of Purple Thighs. Well, if one is prepared for the standard “let’s get stoned and screw” of a majority of 60s smut dealing with drugs, forget about it. Wood has crafted a nice little allegory with biblical (yes, biblical) proportions.
