Private

Rating: FOUR “Cold, Wee-Wee Shrinking Groove” BUSTED NUTS

The good people at Viagra must be pleased. It’s really starting to look like Private’s gonna make the ying to the yang of their PRIVATE TROPICAL line (aka fucking under palm trees) with a fucking-on-snow line. What’s next? Fucking in the desert? (“Plow my ass after you dodge the mortar shell.”)

Why is Viagra’s stock reaching historic highs? Because the dudes in these movies are gonna need a bunch of it to combat the natural shrinkage related to waving their wee-wees around in the cold. At least female holes are warm. Coming on a chick’s face never sucked like this.

EVERYONE, JUDITH FOX, THE CAMERAMAN, AND PARTICULARLY THE NAMELESS DUDE IN THIS PHOTO, IS VERY GRATEFUL TO BE WARM AND INDOORS.

SEX SECRETS OF THE YETI is EXACTLY the same movie as the first installment of the Sex on Snow series, with all the same cast, except this time there’s a dude in a gorilla suit with tennis shoes on fucking chicks up the ass in the great wilderness. He’s probably got the best job in the flick as he gets to keep his clothes on. So if you dug that first vid, why not pick this one up, too? Here’s what we wrote about the last flick.

SOS: SEX ON SNOW is an etude in irony. Consider this:

- Hey, something “new”! J.Y. Castel’s filming fucking on snow. We haven’t seen that one since, what? Matador Avalanche I and II?

- Dude, see how all the fuckers in these movies are wearing COATS? Do you know why? If you’re wearing a coat, is that because you want to be naked? No, you do not. So, like, why is it that every goddamn scene in this movie is on the freaking mountain? This despite each scene beginning in the warm, comfy cabin, before the geniuses involved in the fucking decide to take their beef outside. Makes sense to you? You’re an idiot.

- The dude playing the bartender in this flick has got to have some serious repressed emotions. Hot, fuck-me-now sluts get paraded in front of him, and all he gets to do is tell some other mook about how so-and-so is gonna take her up to meet some freakin’ retarded-looking Italian goon for some meatpipe laying. Come to think of it, bartender boy spends more time going on and on about how big the dago’s cock is than about the babe-itude of the sluts... Probably answers the question why he hasn’t taken a flamethrower to everyone else involved in this movie.

- Please, please, let’s not make this fucking on snow a habit. We’ve already got that retarded fucking-on-sand line, “Private Tropical,” and it’s not making the sex any better. Fucking on sand is potentially dicey (think getting sand stuck between your toes is an annoyance?), but fucking on the freezing snow is definitely even less appealing.

- Hello? What’s more important here? Looking at shots of snow-covered mountains, or seeing detail of the nitty-gritty we bought the video for? Can you explain why a good deal of the sex is shot from far away? No? Good. Me neither. Extended long shots might be warranted if the meat puppets were going at it in the Taj Mahal, but not on some boring mountain. Fer chrissakes...

But, BUT! In spite of all this, SOS: Sex on Snow (cute, huh? You’re an idiot) still works. Why? Well, despite the extreme dumbassishness of the whole premise, you put a porn flick in the hands of Jean-Yves LeCastel, and it works. This DESPITE the stupid long shots, DESPITE the less-than appealing premise of being caught in windchill with nary an article of clothing on, DESPITE the malicious and blatant reminder that PRIVA nigh ruined her perfect physique by getting fake knobs... it still works. And I still blew loads. Some to the image of Priva with a Dago cock that is about half her body’s width up her ass, and even more to seeing cutesy squeaker babe GILDA ROBERTS get ploughed. It’s the basics that work. Let’s stick to ‘em, eh? –- STEELY ROB

Buy it NOW!