Voodo Academy

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Often I’ve wished that somehow through the years there’d been some gay male equivalent of cheesecake.

Some homoerotic equivalent of Alberto Vargas or Gil Elvgren.

But the closet didn’t really allow for any sort of guy-on-guy visual frotting. (Yeah, I do know about the Athletic Model Guild but: 1) it was later, 2) photography, 3) not rich in variety or charm.)

Back in the days when cheesy, psychotronic movies were one of my greatest pleasure I wouldn’t say that I was a David DeCoteau fan but he did at least sometimes have Linnea Quigley who was always an amusing professional bimbo.

Discovering that DeCoteau had started making weakly homoerotic sexploitation movies I’d often meant to rent one. I knew I’d regret it so I kept putting of renting any of the films.

Though I knew better last week I rented Voodoo Academy. When trying to decide I felt like watching my mind went blank. This was the time to risk watching one of DeCoteau boy eye-candy movies.

As horror movies go Voodoo Academy was about as weak as they get without making you want to shoot your DVD player.

As homoerotica there’s no thrill unless watching a generic smooth young man rub their chest and belly is an idea of a thrill.

Heck there was even one blond I found cute once they got the Brylecream out of his hair.

Unless one of the actors has appeared in some other movie you’ve seen and you have to see all of him that you possibly can you’ll want to avoid Voodoo Academy.

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Voodo Academy
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