By the time we hit issue #60 for the week of April 27, 1970, SCREW was a full-on filthy parade of sex, satire, and enough alliteration to make your English teacher swallow her ruler.
Jim Buckley kicked things off with Big Belly Blues, proving once again that the only thing sadder than a flaccid dick is a man who thinks sit-ups are gonna save his sex life. Meanwhile, Dot Smith asked the heavy questions with Closed Cunts and Open Minds? — daring to wonder if holding onto your virginity past puberty was a sign of moral strength or just bad judgment and worse luck.
Bren Nichols popped cherries all over the page in A Cherry Blossoms, a coming-of-age romp that made it very clear that nobody at SCREW was winning any awards for subtlety — and thank Christ for that.
Paul Varjack reminded everyone it’s not about the size of the cannon, but the fireworks it shoots, with his piece It’s Not How Long You Make It—It’s How You Make It Long! (Try fitting that on a condom wrapper.)
Kay Tobin got dirty with Pecker Checker Pine, Al Pseudonym (hmm, who could that be?) ranted his balls off in Legal Bullshit (still depressingly relevant), and A. Landau uncorked Amy Vanderfart’s Theatre Etiquette: Beavers in the Balcony — because nothing says culture like public muff-diving during Fiddler on the Roof.
Meanwhile, Michael Perkins waded knee-deep into the swamp of smut-lit in Fuck Books: Pear-shaped Tits and Furry Holes — a title so honest you could smell the cigarette smoke and cum-stained paperbacks from three states over.
Lige and Jack kept it proudly gay and pissed-off with Frontier Faggot, Bob Amsel toured the Naked City, and John Caldwell (still drawing like a man with something to get off his chest — and fast) slipped in one of his perverted little masterpieces. Jim Buckley closed things out with another helping of Shit List, because in 1970 there was never any shortage of assholes that needed naming.
SCREW #60 was a classic case of early SCREW hitting its stride: loud, lewd, funny, pissed-off, and proud to be flipping off America’s tight-assed establishment while chasing every good piece of tail along the way.
This wasn’t just a dirty magazine. It was a declaration of war.
And in April 1970, we were winning.
—P.
DON'T LET THEM WIN!
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XoXoX,
The Management