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Blow It Out Your Ass

Blow It Out Your Ass

Released Feb 01st, 1998
Running Time 89
Directors John T Bone, John T. Bone
Company Cream
Distribution Company Impressive Productions
Cast Dave Hardman, Tom Byron, Candy Hill, Nikki Star, Jasmin St. Claire, Earl Slate, Summer Collins, Zoe (I), Ron Jeremy
Critical Rating AAAA 1/2
Genre Gonzo

Rating


Reviews

Even an Olympic-class cynic like Howard Stern couldn't avoid giving this tantalizing nugget of an endorsement:

"It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen," proclaimed Stern on his radio show.  The "amazing thing" Stern's referring to is Jasmin St. Claire's (she's a frequent guest on the Stern show) curious ability to belch flames out her asshole.  Not Bic lighter flames, mind you.  But healthy, butane-nourished firebombs, the likes of which could probably incinerate the main course at a Lebanese wedding.

Just exactly how St. Claire performs this stunt will probably remain a secret tucked away in the same vault that harbors the mystery of the Hindu Rope Trick.  Is it a hidden gas valve?  A trap door?  A Taco Bell diet?  A satanic pact with the Department of Water & Power? Who can say.

Blow It Out Your Ass offers no hints or clues to origins or whereabouts.  Probably just as well.  Ohter than Jasmin barbecuing a marshmallow with the exhaust from her tail pipe, the sideshow element extends no further than Ron Jeremy's dry monologue delivered in a fireman's outfit.  The only thing missing, you might say, is Smokey the Bear and his safety message.

What isn't missing, however, is anal sex.  St. Claire, aside from being the obvious life of the party at weenie roasts, proves she can absorb one mean Oscar Meyer in her buns, courtesy of Tom Byron.  The same can be said of her four blonde Cream Team cohorts, Savannah doppelgänger Zoë, Summer Collins, Candy Hill and Nikki Starr.

With gratuitous swimsuit modeling, proctological ass posing, and satirical jabs at beauty pageants lobbed in for good measure, what you have here is a relentless, no-frills backside extravaganza.  Each scene is rendered Borsky-like plain and simple, highlighted by the one rectal position we've all come to know and love.  The female lies on her side, grabs the back of her legs for dear life, takes a log in her fireplace and cuts loose with the type of primordial scream patented by victims of the Spanish Inquisition.

The fact that it's Zoë's first-ever scene (she responds to off-screen questions as though she were a POW) imparts even more shivers to your timbers as Dave Hardman lays a trail of wandering fingers and random mucus before taking her on a maiden voyage that culminates with a spasm-inducing reverse cowgirl poke that practically drives his scull into Zoë's wheelhouse.

Cute-as-a-button Summer Collins spreads her cheeks for Tom Byron who, after laying some smart slaps to her rump, stays in her beautiful ass long enough to qualify for a common law divorce settlement under the California statutes. Candy Hill cups her feet to get Earl Slate hard then probably wishes she hadn't when Slate introduces some astonishing length into her shit shaft.  Dave Hardman tongues Nikki Starr's asshole like a starving cat in a Carnation evaporated milk can before letting loose with enough thrusting power to demolish a feline equipped with nine tails.

Embellished by a hard, European edge, you probably won't find five anal scenes in any collection as consistent and satisfying as these.  And, when marketing, also consider Zoë and the Savannah thing.  Lightning just may be recaptured in the bottle.



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