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Post by jamesdoig on Nov 17, 2012 9:46:06 GMT
More please!
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Post by Robert Adam Gilmour on Nov 18, 2012 13:11:05 GMT
Must say I’m surprised, and a little sad, to find Derek Acorah’s books on a thread such as this. How anyone could be embarrassed to purchase such treasures is beyond me. I'm not sure if he exploits grieving families like a lot of these guys do but that thing he did with the Michael Jackson fans in a seance pretending to get in touch with Jackson and making the heartbroken guys cry their eyes out was appalling. So a guy making money off books whose whole profession is a lie is pretty bad. Hello, this is my first post. I hadnt joined before because all the subsections of the forum seemed too much to keep up with, but then I discovered the new topics button recently, so that makes things a lot simpler. I had been at Shocklines for the past year or so but even though the people are nice, there is very little of actually discussing books, excessive amounts of everything else but discussing books and I've enjoyed looking around here lately with people who actually read lots of stuff. ...I cant say I've ever felt embarrassed buying anything, maybe felt a bit selfconcious buying sexually orientated stuff (as much as I try not to care). I agree with the first post about it being liberating not caring about how you look from your tastes.
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sara
Crab On The Rampage
Posts: 69
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Post by sara on Nov 18, 2012 17:48:51 GMT
How do these books get along with your Gothic Romances? Are they consigned to a designated sin corner, or do the Dorothy Daniels' and Lucy Graham's happily coexist on the same shelf? Oh no, there’s a designated naughty shelf for these books - I couldn’t have those Nasty Nels sullying my precious gothics! And LESBIAN LOVE (you’re right Craig, such blurb does deserve to be capitalized at every given opportunity) has its own special place, tucked safely out of sight from casual observers. Worth the expression on the Oxfam lady's face alone when one proudly purchases them! One at a time! Or would be if I hadn’t been staring down at the floor at the time, being far too embarrassed to make eye contact!
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sara
Crab On The Rampage
Posts: 69
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Post by sara on Nov 18, 2012 17:52:29 GMT
but that thing he did with the Michael Jackson fans in a seance pretending to get in touch with Jackson and making the heartbroken guys cry their eyes out was appalling. Derek Acorah held a séance and channeled Michael Jackson?! Wow... Was that on the telly?
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Post by Robert Adam Gilmour on Nov 18, 2012 18:36:46 GMT
You can find it on youtube and see that even the show presenters are shocked by what a shameless exploiter he is. I found out about it from Charlie Brooker, who obviously thought it was disgusting too.
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Post by Craig Herbertson on Nov 18, 2012 21:41:22 GMT
I have to echo Lord Probert's remarks and say this is one of my favourite threads. Anyone who's lived in Manchester will remember the days of Paramount where you had to wade through the porn to get to the Savoy books and the horror comics. Don't quite know which customers were the less respected....
It was also remarkably embarrassing to ask for the SF or Horror shelves in certain bookshops and be told they didn't exist - usually by some sneering old codger. After a few years I went through the gamut of possible responses - abject embarrassment, lost simpleton or 'it's for my son' - said with a chirpy cool dad voice - but in the end I found brazen pervert worked best.
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Post by Craig Herbertson on Nov 18, 2012 21:49:15 GMT
My best one was buying a barby doll in Oxfam. My son was four and for some reason he wanted one. I walked to the counter clutching this naked barby doll and said 'how much?'. The old dearie gave me the kind of look that used to precede 'Burn the witch!' and in the sudden realisation that I was being viewed as the ultimate social leper I really did croak out 'it's for my son' - which only seemed to make matters worse....
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Post by cauldronbrewer on Nov 18, 2012 22:43:40 GMT
My best one was buying a barby doll in Oxfam. My son was four and for some reason he wanted one. I walked to the counter clutching this naked barby doll and said 'how much?'. The old dearie gave me the kind of look that used to precede 'Burn the witch!' and in the sudden realisation that I was being viewed as the ultimate social leper I really did croak out 'it's for my son' - which only seemed to make matters worse.... The hell with her, Craig. By my reckoning, you were just being a good father. Last week my son wanted a "girly" toy for his fourth birthday--fortunately, we were able to order it online and not have to deal with anyone at a store counter. Now, if it had been a creepy doll, that would be a different story.
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Post by Craig Herbertson on Nov 19, 2012 8:49:40 GMT
Maybe I shouldn't have twisted its head off
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Post by valdemar on Dec 29, 2013 2:56:59 GMT
Derek Acorah - why? Has anyone noticed that when Derek 'probably taking the piss' Acorah encounters a spirit, it always seems to be of 'A little lad'? It happens so often (my brother pointed it out to me), that: 1) it has almost become a sort of 'Fast Show' catchphrase: 2) there actually IS a ghost of 'A little lad' that has attached itself to Mr. Acorah to the detriment of all other numinous media. It's just an idle thought. Also, totally unconnected, I used the 'It's for a friend' gambit/lie, when I bought a book by the far from numinous Dita Von Teese (who my brother thought was actually a man. Yes, I know. He's got glasses now) from my local bookshop, which is predominently staffed by women. Didn't work. The assistant who dealt with me had a copy of the same book, and liked it a great deal, and I admitted that it was for me. An odd feeling, like being a teenager again and buying a jazz periodical from your local newsagent, and hoping they won't say anything to your parents when they drop in to pay the paper bill... Anyhow, the assistant wasn't there to censure - they just wanted the money, and I ended up going out with her for a year or so. : )
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Post by dem bones on Dec 29, 2013 8:35:04 GMT
Also, totally unconnected, I used the 'It's for a friend' gambit/lie, when I bought a book by the far from numinous Dita Von Teese .... from my local bookshop, which is predominently staffed by women. Didn't work. The assistant who dealt with me had a copy of the same book, and liked it a great deal, and I admitted that it was for me. An odd feeling, like being a teenager again and buying a jazz periodical from your local newsagent, and hoping they won't say anything to your parents when they drop in to pay the paper bill... Anyhow, the assistant wasn't there to censure - they just wanted the money, and I ended up going out with her for a year or so. : ) Ah, now that's nice. A bookshop romance! The likes of Edwin J. Henri's Kiss Of The Whip (Walton Press, third printing, 1962, originally 1961) present a problem in that peddling out the lame old "it's for a friend" routine will only exacerbate a tricky, potentially humiliating situation. For one thing, the (bound to be) young female assistant won't believe you, for another, she had you down as a creep the minute you limped into the shop - admitting to a "friend" of pervy persuasion confirms it. On these occasions, you just have to brazen it out, smile sweetly as she gleefully hands you your "reference work" in a specially selected really transparent Tesco carrier bag. Worst of it is, so I'm told, such screaming chapter titles and sub-headings as "Lewd Priests & Female Penitents", "Brothels Catering For Perverts," "Women To The Fore As Advocates Of Flogging", "The Whipping Of Erotic Nuns & Novices," "Flogged Celebrities" and the understated "Effects Of Heavy Massage" promise so much more than they actually deliver. Illustrated.
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Post by valdemar on Dec 29, 2013 9:29:04 GMT
Ha ha ha. Your last entry reminded me of a skit that was either from 'Not The Nine O' Clock News', or perhaps 'Alas Smith & Jones', where a punter in a seedy adult bookshop pays for his purchases, and is asked by the assistant if he would like a brown paper bag to carry the magazines in. The punter says yes, he would, and he is then seen walking down the road carrying a brown paper bag - emblazoned with very big writing that reads 'PORNO FILTH', if memory serves.
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Post by dem bones on Nov 21, 2015 20:23:56 GMT
More charity shop, uh, gold ... Rosemary Hawthorne - Knickers: An Intimate Appraisal (Souvenir Press Ltd 1991) Originally published by Bachman-Turner in 1985, reprinted 1991 and again in 2008 after sales went into overdr ... no, I can't bring myself to write that! Illustrations confirm my long-held belief that nobody could possibly have had sex until I appeared on the scene and invented it. Author, a vicar's wife, has since embarked on career as popular after dinner speaker, " The Knicker Lady."Special thanks to the nice lady on till for laughing her head off and generally doing all she could to draw attention to my purchase. Can't even buy "a present for the wife" these days without some petty minded folk casting aspersions.
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Post by andydecker on Nov 21, 2015 21:35:10 GMT
This really sounds interesting. Is it as good as the backtext suggests? Or is it one of those were the writer bit off more then he could deliver?
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Post by dem bones on Nov 21, 2015 22:04:50 GMT
This really sounds interesting. Is it as good as the backtext suggests? Or is it one of those were the writer bit off more then he could deliver? To be honest, it made me feel a bit queasy reading it, and that takes quite a bit. A very slim book (112 pages), large-ish print, well-researched I guess, if not exactly must-have, even for perverts.
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