Robustly beguiling, satanically charismatic, undeniably Oliver Platt-like Brooklyn native Mike McPadden not only knows every conceivable euphemism for female private parts, he's made a career out of knowing how to use them. He's also invented some real pips, his own favorites being "mush" for vagina and "stoolbox" for anus.
For the past decade and a half, this (thankfully) one-of-a-kind talent has propelled the 39-year-old Mr. McPadden through the most deliciously sordid channels of the business quite literally known as "show."
Under the pen(is) name Selwyn Harris, self-starting guttersnipe McPadden initially caught attention (both desirable and otherwise) by publishing the intoxicatingly vile sleaze-'zine Happyland from 1991 to 1994 and again, briefly, after the World Trade Center attacks in 2001.
"I figured that the Mad Max era was coming down fast," he says, "and I wanted to be its William Randolph Hearst. I was wrong on every possible count. As usual."
Happyland led to McPadden serving as Entertainment Editor at Hustler magazine from 1993 to 1995, which, in turn, led to him penning half a dozen screenplays-including the softcore meisterw?Animal Instincts III-that were filmed by X-rated visionary Gregory Dark. At some point, the tireless Mr. McPadden also toiled at Troma Studios for two frantic weeks.
Since 2003 McPadden has overseen the editorial direction of the Chicago-based MrSkin.com and numerous affiliated projects, the most recent of which is the just-published book Mr. Skin's Skintastic Video Guide: The 501 Greatest Movies for Sex & Nudity on DVD.
Skin found me in 2003 and rescued me from New York, a city I cannot stand. And, yes, I'm from there. So I'm correct. I was working at Celebrity Skin magazine after idiotically trying to scrub the porno off my r?m?or a few years.
After I quit drugs and alcohol-no mean feat, in my case-I thought you were supposed to be a goddamned Boy Scout or something. In the ensuing years, I've realized that the point of sobriety is to free you up to do exactly whatever it is you want to do with your life. And I want to look at naked chicks and write dirty jokes all day. Which is what I do now.
My successor at Skin-Hollis James Smith-has taken it even further. Celebrity Skin is a top-notch read every month if you're into weird movies or crackpot showbiz figures. It's become really great. Magic Markar has also done wonders with the magazine's design and art direction.
Robin Bougie's Cinema Sewer is right up there, but it only comes out every so often.
The next Mr. Skin book is going to be dedicated to Celebrity Sleuth. We worship him, and his creation. Make no mistake: Sleuth is the breast in show ing.
So not only did I know and love Mr. Skin, I was a member of the website from his first Stern appearance onward-and initially this was at a time when the monthly membership fee may as well have been in the six figures as far as my budget was concerned.
One thing that Mr. Skin was especially helpful on was perfecting the format of the Skintastic Video Guide. He kept stressing "shorter, sharper, tighter, leaner." I think it makes for a much easier, much more effective read as a result.
Plus he invented the word "furburgerage." And he's gorgeous. Look at him! Hah-cha-cha!
And my orchestral psychedelic-rock band, Sexual Freedom, is worth bragging about.
I'm also hung like a silverback gorilla, and too many people have pictures to prove it.
One of the bloopers was from a baby-powder commercial with two actresses in robes in a bathroom. As they were going along, doing the dialogue, the robe fell off of one of them, and her tits just completely popped out. Then, in-fuckin'-credibly, the other actress, all flustered-like, just threw her robe off too!
I couldn't believe what I was seeing!
Afterward, in the lobby, that was all anybody was talking about but, in embarrassment, I chose to focus on how much I loved the Volkswagen commercial with King Kong.
I've never, ever been able to find that blooper since then. And, believe me, I'm always on the lookout.
Then, in 1978, just after I turned ten, we were at my grandmother's house in New Jersey, and there was an ad in the Asbury Park Press with a misprint. It read that Rocky Horror was rated PG. So I immediately ran to my mother, pointing it out, saying: "See! I'm allowed to see this! It's rated PG! See! Look! PG! PG!" And she fell for it.
Now in the summer of '78, Rocky Horror was playing everywhere. We could have gone to any number of neighborhood theaters on the Jersey shore or in Brooklyn. But somehow I actually conned two hippie aunts and an uncle to cart me into the 8th Street Playhouse in Manhattan to see the real deal with the world-famous live cast.
At one point, my aunt got mortified by all the shouted obscenities and I still don't know how they felt when the chick playing Janet sat on my lap in her bra and panties. Later Janet succumbed to the crowd's "show your tits" chant and, well, I'll never forget how I felt at that moment.
Afterward my Green Beret, Vietnam-vet father was on fire with outrage that I'd been allowed to go to Rocky Horror. It wasn't the sexual content, though. He kept bugging his eyes out and roaring: "HE PROBABLY GOT A GODDAMNED CONTACT HIGH!"
If Pops only knew how right he was. Well, I suppose he does now.
The look and feel of MrSkin.com is joyful and party-like, and the words should reflect that. It wasn't that way when they hired me. There was a lot of slagging of actresses' looks and movie reviews full of hack crap like, "I want that hour and a half of my life back!"
I truly despise that joke and, more than that, anybody who uses it. All I can think is: "Really? Do you? And did you just think that up on your own? Are you going to use that hour and a half of your life to concoct even more original chestnuts like that?"
Also, no jokes about "Bea Arthur Naked." I call it the "B.A.N." ban.
Particularly vomitacious is the entire online universe of deskbound, quarter-ton male grotesques assessing the desirability of any woman whose photograph they come across. Either they label a chick "butterface" or "double bagger" or, if the ladies happen to be really lucky, they'll declare: "I'd hit it!"
My blessing and my curse in life is that I am attracted to literally every woman I see. Really. As long as she's out of high school and not yet in a nursing home. And I'm lying about that first part.
Of the A-cup all-stars, it's the aforementioned Cheryl "Rainbeaux" Smith (Picture: ) and Misty Mundae, (Picture: ) along with Jane Birkin, (Picture: 1) Kate Moss, (Picture: 1) Selma Blair, (Picture: 1) Mink Stole, (Picture: 1) Season Hubley, (Picture: 1) Jessica Harper (Picture: 1).
For the bazooka-bosom brigade it's Uschi Digard, (Picture: 1) Sharon Kelly, (Picture: 1) Christina Lindberg, (Picture: 1) Kay Parker, (Picture: 1) Mimi "Jolly" Rogers, (Picture: 1) Thora Birch, (Picture: 1) teenage Christina Ricci, (Picture: 1) and all the Russ Meyer mamazons.
I'm also pretty severely into Maggie Gyllenhaal (Picture: 1) and Emily Haack. (Picture: 1)
I also heavily, heavily dig hairy armpits and white chicks with dreadlocks. Freckles and eyeglasses too. And big, fat, crazy-long nipples. Also, preggos.
Milla Jovovich (Picture: 1) sports G.N.A.T.s, which stands for Greatest Nipples of All Time. Andrea Davis (Picture: 1) from the Seduction Cinema movies is right up there, to.
And redheads trump all. Natural redheads. Naturally.
Bralessness was big in those days-Loni Anderson on WKRP, Marilu Henner on Taxi. (Picture: 1) I just saw Marilu (Picture: 1) in person last month. We were at the same Broadway performance of Xanadu. I looked at her chest and thought, Yes, I remember you well.
There was the lame sitcom at the time called Double Trouble with twin sisters Liz and Jean Sagal. I taped the commercial bumper because they hugged really tight and, even though they were wearing winter coats, I focused on their identical nipples almost touching.
In terms of actual bizarre sexual content, Dyanne Thorne (Picture: 1) getting molested by the leper at the end of Ilsa, Harem Keeper of the Oil Sheiks comes to mind. So does Ben Gazzara head-butting the fat lady's vagina in Tales of Ordinary Madness. (Picture: 1) And the piss party in Sweet Movie. (Picture: 1) Also, mega-muffed Jill Clayburgh jerking off her heroin-addict son in the Bertolucci movie La Luna. (Picture: 1)
Main image courtesy of JulieFab.com
For the past decade and a half, this (thankfully) one-of-a-kind talent has propelled the 39-year-old Mr. McPadden through the most deliciously sordid channels of the business quite literally known as "show."
Under the pen(is) name Selwyn Harris, self-starting guttersnipe McPadden initially caught attention (both desirable and otherwise) by publishing the intoxicatingly vile sleaze-'zine Happyland from 1991 to 1994 and again, briefly, after the World Trade Center attacks in 2001.
"I figured that the Mad Max era was coming down fast," he says, "and I wanted to be its William Randolph Hearst. I was wrong on every possible count. As usual."
Happyland led to McPadden serving as Entertainment Editor at Hustler magazine from 1993 to 1995, which, in turn, led to him penning half a dozen screenplays-including the softcore meisterw?Animal Instincts III-that were filmed by X-rated visionary Gregory Dark. At some point, the tireless Mr. McPadden also toiled at Troma Studios for two frantic weeks.
Since 2003 McPadden has overseen the editorial direction of the Chicago-based MrSkin.com and numerous affiliated projects, the most recent of which is the just-published book Mr. Skin's Skintastic Video Guide: The 501 Greatest Movies for Sex & Nudity on DVD.
How did you come to land the greatest job in the world?
I didn't. The greatest job in the world belongs to my boss, Mr. Skin. I'd rank my gig as a solid second, though. Maybe third, after Mrs. Skin.Skin found me in 2003 and rescued me from New York, a city I cannot stand. And, yes, I'm from there. So I'm correct. I was working at Celebrity Skin magazine after idiotically trying to scrub the porno off my r?m?or a few years.
Why was that?
Some sick, horrifying reaction to an implanted brainwash message about straightening up, flying right, and being a good boy. I used to serially get engaged to be married as a result of that impulse. Imagine that. Marriage-blecchhh! They were terrific women, though. Better than I deserve.After I quit drugs and alcohol-no mean feat, in my case-I thought you were supposed to be a goddamned Boy Scout or something. In the ensuing years, I've realized that the point of sobriety is to free you up to do exactly whatever it is you want to do with your life. And I want to look at naked chicks and write dirty jokes all day. Which is what I do now.
Did Celebrity Skin help put you back on the path of righteousness?
In part, sure. Celebrity Skin was great. I really like all the people there. They gave me the freedom to turn Celebrity Skin into a real movie-fan magazine, with an upbeat tone and informative service pieces.My successor at Skin-Hollis James Smith-has taken it even further. Celebrity Skin is a top-notch read every month if you're into weird movies or crackpot showbiz figures. It's become really great. Magic Markar has also done wonders with the magazine's design and art direction.
Robin Bougie's Cinema Sewer is right up there, but it only comes out every so often.
But what about Celebrity Sleuth?
Celebrity Sleuth was, and remains, my favorite adults-only magazine of all time. That and Hustler from 1975 to 1984. What Sleuth does is different from Celebrity Skin. It's more personality driven and Sleuth himself is a genius. He is, as I frequently say to Mr. Skin, "the origin of our species."The next Mr. Skin book is going to be dedicated to Celebrity Sleuth. We worship him, and his creation. Make no mistake: Sleuth is the breast in show ing.
Did Mr. Skin seek you out from Celebrity Skin?
Yes, with some help. A big part of my Celebrity Skin editorial focus was highlighting the terrific work being done by Seduction Cinema in New Jersey. Their movies were genuinely sexy and funny and, of course, they had just landed Misty Mundae, (Picture: 1) who instantly struck me as a B-movie starlet packing potential on par with the all-time greats.Misty gets written up rather regularly both on MrSkin.com and in the Skintastic Video Guide.
We all remain devoted fans, even though she's graduated to non-softcore work and goes by the name Erin Brown now. And when she turned me down for a follow-up Skinterview in 2005, she hurt my feelings in my heart as a person.Did Misty lead Mr. Skin to you?
Kind of, in a roundabout way. Mr. Skin ran into the Seduction Cinema guys at a trade show, and he mentioned that he was looking for writers. They passed my info along, Skin flew to New York, bought me a steak, and a month later I was living in Chicago.Were you already familiar with MrSkin.com at the time?
Oh, fuck yeah. From Howard Stern. I am a lifelong Stern fanatic who heard Howard's very first WNBC afternoon broadcast in 1982. I was fourteen and he was talking about being into watching lesbians and I could not believe such words were coming out of my radio. I have, with very few exceptions, listened to every single show Howard's aired since then.So not only did I know and love Mr. Skin, I was a member of the website from his first Stern appearance onward-and initially this was at a time when the monthly membership fee may as well have been in the six figures as far as my budget was concerned.
Was it worth it?
Absolutely. The first actress I looked up was Cheryl "Rainbeaux" Smith. (Picture: 1) And there she was. Pics, clips, glorious skinformation, and everything. I am not ashamed to say that as I bounced around the site, I actually did grow weepy. In gratitude. It was over the specific thought: "The future is now."Still, you've spearheaded an effort to branch the Skin brand out into old-fashioned book publishing.
Well, books are forever. And my goal with both Mr. Skin's Skincyclopedia and the brand-new, even better Mr. Skin's Skintastic Video Guide was to create Rosetta-Stone-like reference works that might impact other people the way certain monumentally important books impacted me.Which books?
The Cult Movies series by Danny Peary from the 1980s. The Medved Brothers' Fifty Worst Films of All Time, Hollywood Hall of Shame, and two volumes of The Golden Turkey Awards. Both Psychotronic guides by Michael J. Weldon. And even though he was a complete jackass when he did a MrSkin.com skinterview, Joe Bob Briggs's drive-in review compilations.Do the Mr. Skin books measure up?
Time will tell. I'm very proud of not only my own work on them, but brilliant contributions from ace scribes such as Allan MacDonell-whose Feral House memoir, Prisoner of X: Twenty Years in the Hole at Hustler Magazine, is a must-read-along with Peter Landau, J.R. Taylor, and my never-praised-enough Associate Editors, Kara Edington and Keara Shipe.What about Mr. Skin?
Oh, yeah. Him too. Whew!One thing that Mr. Skin was especially helpful on was perfecting the format of the Skintastic Video Guide. He kept stressing "shorter, sharper, tighter, leaner." I think it makes for a much easier, much more effective read as a result.
Plus he invented the word "furburgerage." And he's gorgeous. Look at him! Hah-cha-cha!
Besides the Skintastic Video Guide, what else are you proud of?
My daughter, Lil Princess.And my orchestral psychedelic-rock band, Sexual Freedom, is worth bragging about.
I'm also hung like a silverback gorilla, and too many people have pictures to prove it.
Do you remember the first movie nude scene you ever saw?
Vividly. One of our neighbors in the '70s was an actual film collector, and he hosted a night of oddities, bloopers, and outtakes at Brooklyn College back when I was seven. Being an insane movie doof already, my parents let me go with them.One of the bloopers was from a baby-powder commercial with two actresses in robes in a bathroom. As they were going along, doing the dialogue, the robe fell off of one of them, and her tits just completely popped out. Then, in-fuckin'-credibly, the other actress, all flustered-like, just threw her robe off too!
I couldn't believe what I was seeing!
Afterward, in the lobby, that was all anybody was talking about but, in embarrassment, I chose to focus on how much I loved the Volkswagen commercial with King Kong.
I've never, ever been able to find that blooper since then. And, believe me, I'm always on the lookout.
What about a real movie nude scene?
The Rocky Horror Picture Show, (Picture: 1) which I was obsessed with from the first time I read about it when I was, like, in second grade. All I could figure was that it had monsters and naked ladies, and I loved the music. I got the LP for my eighth birthday on a picture disc featuring Tim Curry, because the regular album had the words "lotsa larfs and sex" on the back.Then, in 1978, just after I turned ten, we were at my grandmother's house in New Jersey, and there was an ad in the Asbury Park Press with a misprint. It read that Rocky Horror was rated PG. So I immediately ran to my mother, pointing it out, saying: "See! I'm allowed to see this! It's rated PG! See! Look! PG! PG!" And she fell for it.
Now in the summer of '78, Rocky Horror was playing everywhere. We could have gone to any number of neighborhood theaters on the Jersey shore or in Brooklyn. But somehow I actually conned two hippie aunts and an uncle to cart me into the 8th Street Playhouse in Manhattan to see the real deal with the world-famous live cast.
At one point, my aunt got mortified by all the shouted obscenities and I still don't know how they felt when the chick playing Janet sat on my lap in her bra and panties. Later Janet succumbed to the crowd's "show your tits" chant and, well, I'll never forget how I felt at that moment.
Afterward my Green Beret, Vietnam-vet father was on fire with outrage that I'd been allowed to go to Rocky Horror. It wasn't the sexual content, though. He kept bugging his eyes out and roaring: "HE PROBABLY GOT A GODDAMNED CONTACT HIGH!"
If Pops only knew how right he was. Well, I suppose he does now.
What's your favorite movie nude scene of all time?
Joyce Hyser (Picture: 1) popping open her prom tux at the climax of Just One of the Guys. After that, it's Gisele Lindley's (Picture: 1) entire performance in Forbidden Zone.Besides the puns and extremely pinpointed focus, what is your philosophy about writing for MrSkin.com?
Always keep it upbeat. Write every actress bio specifically for the guy who is in love with that actress. Write every movie review as though you are the number-one fan of that movie. We're all here to have a good time.The look and feel of MrSkin.com is joyful and party-like, and the words should reflect that. It wasn't that way when they hired me. There was a lot of slagging of actresses' looks and movie reviews full of hack crap like, "I want that hour and a half of my life back!"
I truly despise that joke and, more than that, anybody who uses it. All I can think is: "Really? Do you? And did you just think that up on your own? Are you going to use that hour and a half of your life to concoct even more original chestnuts like that?"
Also, no jokes about "Bea Arthur Naked." I call it the "B.A.N." ban.
You feel strongly about this?
Yeah. Another thing that drives me batshit is every dick-lick's opinion being forced on you now, everywhere, all the time. Especially the negative stuff. Thanks a lot, Internet.Particularly vomitacious is the entire online universe of deskbound, quarter-ton male grotesques assessing the desirability of any woman whose photograph they come across. Either they label a chick "butterface" or "double bagger" or, if the ladies happen to be really lucky, they'll declare: "I'd hit it!"
My blessing and my curse in life is that I am attracted to literally every woman I see. Really. As long as she's out of high school and not yet in a nursing home. And I'm lying about that first part.
Who are your three favorite sexy movie actresses of all time?
I have to name more than three, due to my peculiar fetishistic obsessions. I am overwhelmingly drawn to flat-chested women, as well as women who have bombastically enormous breasts-naturals only, of course.Of the A-cup all-stars, it's the aforementioned Cheryl "Rainbeaux" Smith (Picture: ) and Misty Mundae, (Picture: ) along with Jane Birkin, (Picture: 1) Kate Moss, (Picture: 1) Selma Blair, (Picture: 1) Mink Stole, (Picture: 1) Season Hubley, (Picture: 1) Jessica Harper (Picture: 1).
For the bazooka-bosom brigade it's Uschi Digard, (Picture: 1) Sharon Kelly, (Picture: 1) Christina Lindberg, (Picture: 1) Kay Parker, (Picture: 1) Mimi "Jolly" Rogers, (Picture: 1) Thora Birch, (Picture: 1) teenage Christina Ricci, (Picture: 1) and all the Russ Meyer mamazons.
I'm also pretty severely into Maggie Gyllenhaal (Picture: 1) and Emily Haack. (Picture: 1)
That's quite a dichotomy.
Yeah. Same thing goes for me with pubes. I either like a hairy-scary, way overgrown 1974 jungle bush or Kojak crotch.I also heavily, heavily dig hairy armpits and white chicks with dreadlocks. Freckles and eyeglasses too. And big, fat, crazy-long nipples. Also, preggos.
Milla Jovovich (Picture: 1) sports G.N.A.T.s, which stands for Greatest Nipples of All Time. Andrea Davis (Picture: 1) from the Seduction Cinema movies is right up there, to.
And redheads trump all. Natural redheads. Naturally.
What are your favorite sexy movies of all time?
My favorite movies, period, all seem to be loaded with sex and nudity: Forbidden Zone, (Picture: ) Showgirls, (Picture: 1) Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, (Picture: 1) the John Waters movies, slasher flicks, teen sex comedies, rock musicals, barbarian movies, post-apocalypse movies, adults-only fairy tales from the 1970s. Coincidence? Not likely.What are some particularly off-the-wall movie scenes that you've-let's say-applauded with one hand?
Jeez, back when I was first learning how to do such things with the original McPadden family VCR in the 1980s, any and every hint of nudity and/or sexuality, especially lesbian, would get viewed and reviewed endlessly using my patented pre-remote-control system: I'd lean on the rewind button with a stickball bat I kept in the basement just for that purpose.Bralessness was big in those days-Loni Anderson on WKRP, Marilu Henner on Taxi. (Picture: 1) I just saw Marilu (Picture: 1) in person last month. We were at the same Broadway performance of Xanadu. I looked at her chest and thought, Yes, I remember you well.
There was the lame sitcom at the time called Double Trouble with twin sisters Liz and Jean Sagal. I taped the commercial bumper because they hugged really tight and, even though they were wearing winter coats, I focused on their identical nipples almost touching.
In terms of actual bizarre sexual content, Dyanne Thorne (Picture: 1) getting molested by the leper at the end of Ilsa, Harem Keeper of the Oil Sheiks comes to mind. So does Ben Gazzara head-butting the fat lady's vagina in Tales of Ordinary Madness. (Picture: 1) And the piss party in Sweet Movie. (Picture: 1) Also, mega-muffed Jill Clayburgh jerking off her heroin-addict son in the Bertolucci movie La Luna. (Picture: 1)
Will you ever get tired of looking at and writing about movie nudity?
The world better hope not. Just imagine if I used this time and effort for anything else. God bless everyt last one of you darlings. I love my job and I hate myself. And, at this moment, maybe now more than ever.Main image courtesy of JulieFab.com
