RAMPAGE NOTES

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America’s self-proclaimed top satire and humor weekly is back. We’ve now shared an even dozen issues of this tabloid. We’re proud to have enriched your life. Or at least given you a few smiles. This issue was published today in 1973, and promises to take readers “inside a whore,” reveal how to “make it with a ski bunny,” and use its daily horoscope to make better lovers.

All these stories are dumb as hell, though the prostitute story—featuring a Hamburg professional allegedly named Hilda Repp—tries to be serious. Rampage journo Heine Heinrich (sure, sure) discusses government regulations within the industry, details the workings of brothels where women are employed, and reveals that Hilda’s fee is the equivalent of $30 for sex, $20 for oral only.

Rampage also treats readers to a profile of Elizabeth Taylor, who had split from Richard Burton and was dating singer Tom Jones. The editors detail every relationship she ever had, then wish her luck with Jones. She married a total of eight times, so maybe the editors’ wishes had the opposite effect. We have more than a dozen scans below.

They slurp, you slurp, we all slurp in Rampage.

It’s always fun to see which direction Rampage goes in each ridiculous centerspread, and in an issue published today in 1973 they highlight a mother and daughter who lick houseguests. This stuff is priceless. It’s reported by “Karl Peabody,” who visits a Los Angeles businessman who runs his home “Burmese style,” whatever that is, with a compliant wife and daughter required to entertain guests. Soon comes the licking, and we bet you can guess which part of this pseudonymous reporter gets licked. Rampage claims on its front cover that it’s America’s “top satire and humor weekly.” We’re not so sure about the humor part of the formula, but the satire is certainly there.

We often wonder why people who bought Rampage didn’t just go full porn and buy Playboy or whatever. But maybe Rampage and its ilk were displayed more openly at newsstands, and possibly as checkout line items in drugstores and the like, leading to impulse purchases. We figure the average buyer would read the paper twice—once out of curiosity, and again to make sure it was as dumb as it seemed the first time. With tens of millions of newsstand browsers every week, even a miniscule purchase rate would probably keep a tabloid afloat. Of course, we’ve bought dozens of these gonzo newspapers, so who are we to talk? Therefore we humbly submit for your perusal a selection of choice Rampage imagery.
Introducing the official Pulp Intl. Cheapie Tabloid Drinking Game™.


Cheapie tabloids are such a joy to read. The vocabulary alone. Some choice words from this issue of Rampage published today in 1973: buttsters, hiney, clitty, throasts [sic], goosey, and more. The photos are nice too. Contemporary glamour models or erotic actresses tend to appear, and this one has Lillian Parker, who was both. Rampage uses her image for a story called “Sisters Admit They Have Perfect Sex Lives.” By perfect the editors mean they like to swap, which is another word you see basically only in old tabloids. It gave us an inspiration. We have a large stack of these bad mags, and we decided to create a drinking game. Here’s how it works. You simply read stories aloud and take a drink every time these words occur (singularly or in the plural).

ball (verb form only)
broad (noun form only)
chick
exclusive
nookie
JFK
nympho (or nymphomaniac)
orgasm (as verb or noun)
prostie (prostitute doesn’t count)
repairman
babysitter
Sinatra (Ole Blue Eyes is also acceptable)
swollen

And down an entire shot if any of these phrases come up:

after school/after class/after church
lonely divorcée
high and firm
firm and proud
knocked up
swallowed eagerly
throbbing member
my wife’s sister

Modify the rules as you see fit. Playing the game using two or three typical thirty-two page cheapie tabs like Rampage should get you fucked beyond repair—and ironically “repairman” might be what does you in, because in two tabloids we checked it came up seven times. But the real fun with this should be reading the insane stories. The drinks are merely a bonus.

New Yorkers get their kinks worked out.

Rampage is shocked—shocked, they tell us—to find that sexual shenanigans are going on in New York City massage parlors. They bravely delve into the matter, telling readers, “Authorities evidently realized that the parlors were nothing more than cathouses operating under the guise of massage parlors. Now, where there once were about 200 parlors, only about five are left.” You have to wonder‚ why were any left? Well, police need a little deep tissue action once in a while too. We’re big fans of puns and we have to give Rampage credit for this one: “But according to the owners of the joint, business is throbbing.”

Resident seer Mark Travis graces this issue with another installment of “I Predict.” We love these—there’s nothing like reading predictions when you already know whether they came true. Since these were all published today in 1973 it’s safe to say we know the outcomes. Among Travis’s gems: “I predict a series of savage sex slayings in an eastern city will be solved with the arrest and confession of the slayer—an 11 year-old boy!” Here’s another good one: “I predict the birth of quintuplets to a famous—or infamous—porno star.”

Of course, Travis isn’t always wrong. Here’s one he nailed: “I predict videotape cassettes will soon become as common as phonograph records and that these cassettes will be the most common form of entertainment in American homes.” To put this in perspective, consider that the Betamax tape wasn’t released in the U.S. until 1975, and the VHS tape didn’t arrive until 1977. Spooooky.

Rampage also gives readers advice for making it with ski bunnies, offers an in depth examination of the lives of prostitutes, reports that a Nigerian farmer fed his child who had died of starvation to the rest of his family, and tells the story of a man who had an eye cut out over a one dollar debt. We have a dozen scans below and many more issues of Rampage in the website. All you have to do check our handy alphabetical tabloid index.

Tabloid goes where only goats will dare.

Bet it’s been a long time since you heard the term “Hershey highway.” Well, Rampage, which bills itself as “America’s top satire and humor weekly,” fixes that on this cover from today in 1973 with a story about the utility of anal sex for birth control. The cover features a curious photo of a girl with her tongue out. We showed it to the Pulp Intl. girlfriends and here’s an actual reaction: “Sure. Laaaaaa—I want dick in my butt. Sorry. Not having anal sex with you.” It wasn’t a hint—we just wanted a good quote. Mission fully accomplished.

Rampage‘s anal sex story is told in first person and goes into astonishing detail. Here’s a snippet: “He holds on to the cheeks of my ass, keeping them spread wide while his manhood rams me like a goat. I reach back with one hand and alternately massage my clitoris and his balls.” You get the picture. The author basically makes this a primer on back door loving, from beginning to end, so to speak, stopping just short of discussing how to avoid santorum problems. In fact, the story is so positive about the practice maybe we’ll ask the girls to read it and tell them it is a hint.

This is classic Rampage—sleaze dressed up as journalism, written from the point-of-view of a sexually precocious sixteen-year-old, but doubtless penned by a thirty-something aspiring Faulkner. Did any of these hacks go on to write novels? Who can say? It’s always a fun game uncovering the respectable authors behind sex fiction, but in the case of tabloids the undoubtedly informal nature of commissioning the articles would make tracing their provenance an impossible task. The authors would have to admit it themselves. And why on earth would they do that? Eleven scans below.

A Rampage of epic proportions.

Lots of skin this week. Don’t blame us. It’s all a matter of publishing randomness. You know we like to share items on the date they originally appeared, and it seems the stars have aligned for a naked mid-November. Above you have a Rampage published today in 1973, with rare photos of German actress Alice Arno and men’s mag fave Joyce Gibson. The monster referenced on the cover is Dean Corll, a serial killer who abducted, raped, tortured, and murdered at least 28 boys in and around Houston, Texas, from 1970 to 1973. He had been killed two months earlier by his accomplice Elmer Wayne Henley during a showdown over two potential victims, and terrifying details of the crimes had been laid bare for the American public, which was still trying to wrap its head around the concept of serial killers. We may get into the Corll murders a bit later. This is our eighth issue of Rampage, and you can see the others at our trusty tabloid index. 

A presidential brain goes missing—it was the first of many.

Rampage finally gets one right on the cover of this issue that appeared on newsstands today in 1973—John F. Kennedy’s brain really did go missing. It happened in 1966. Well, better to be right late than never. To this day there’s no official explanation for what happened to JFK’s brain, which had been stored at the National Archives in Washington, D.C. after his autopsy. The most credible theories center on family members ordering it taken to conceal evidence that Kennedy was sick or on medication. Amazingly, later presidential brain removals occurred while their hosts were still alive. No signs of cognition were present in these men, yet they walked, talked, and in zombielike trances signed laws written by corporations and billionaires.

Something else that’s missing is a chunk of this Rampage. Where did it go? We have no idea, but we roundly reject theories one person was the culprit—it was clearly a group that committed the deed. Though it’s a partial paper, we bought it anyway because it was only a dollar. And it was worth it. Inside, we learned that kissing won’t spread colds, but does shorten life spans; we were introduced to ambitious stripper Sandy O’Hara, who may be the first of her profession to debut in tabloids and later achieve her ambition of appearing in movies; and we learn Cher is on the verge of jettisoning Sonny. Scans below, and more from Rampage in our tabloid index.

Nobody is safe when the tabloids are on the loose.

This Rampage published today in 1968 offers stories on radical advances in the science of birth control, tips on how to steal other men’s wives, and insights about teenaged leather fetishists. It also has a great photo of actress-now-felon Victoria Vetri swimming with a dead fish in her mouth. We shared the same ridiculous shot a while back and it brings a smile to our faces each time we see it. Probably the most interesting aspect of this particular Rampage is the fact the editors go after the U.S. armed forces with one story calling military schools havens of homosexuality, and another claiming soldiers are terrible in bed. This type of pointed satire would not go over well today, we suspect, in a country where the pendulum has swung from Vietnam-era suspicion of the military to post-Trade Center conformist worship, but it is an interesting reminder that perhaps the healthiest attitude lies somewhere in the middle. We have many more issues of Rampage. Just click its keyword below.

Cheapie tabloid offers priceless advice to American males.

Remember when Midnight explained that virgins make lousy wives? Not to be outdone, this issue of Rampage published yesterday in 1971 reveals what type of women make the best wives. Can you guess? Give up? The answer is—wait for it—prostitutes. The magazine’s reasons are many, but the one we agree with unreservedly is this: “They’ve already seen the worst men have to offer.”

Elsewhere, the editors tout a cure for inverted nipples, reveal “lezzies slurping over female bodies,” and tell the tale of a woman talked into smuggling heroin in her vagina from Istanbul to New York City. Because this is a tabloid, after all, there’s an actual heroin stuffed dildo involved that the amateur smuggler secrets inside her lady parts for two days of air travel. Quote: “I felt full down there, like I was being perpetually screwed by a guy with a really big dick. It was a funny feeling, but sexy. I may have had an orgasm on the plane.” Everybody who thinks that was written by a dude raise your hands. Yep, we’re unanimously agreed.

We also get America’s most popular seer the (not so) Amazing Criswell (on loan from his regular gig at National Informer), who drops this nugget: “I predict a lawsuit will reveal that one of our top glamour girls has a wooden hand!” Rampage is a gift that keeps on giving and we have about ten more issues we’re going to share. We know you can hardly wait. Scans below.

Very little of what they wrote was factual, but at least they were bold about it.

Rampage returns to Pulp Intl. after a six month absence with this issue published today in 1973. The cover star and interior models are unknowns, and the stories are mostly fiction (a fiend stomps a girl’s guts out, a ghost rapes a girl in graveyard, a husband shoots out a rival’s eyes, a wife shoots her husband because he wanted a beer) but the editors do expend a bit of column space on two real people.

The first is Richard Burton, who they call a hopeless drunk with violent tendencies—not a newsflash, since other tabloids had already covered his drinking issues to death. Of marginally more interest is a story on Peter Duel, a little-known figure today, but one who was a major star during the 1970s, half of the famed duo from the hit television show Alias Smith and Jones. Rampage claims Duel did not commit suicide in December 1971, but rather was murdered. The evidence? The testimony of a medium who communicated with Duel’s spirit and reported that the aggrieved entity said, “They… murdered….me! I… was… murdered..! Oh God..!” And of course, ghosts being famously elliptical, Duel transmitted all this across the ether without uttering the name of a single assailant.

The last item of note in Rampage is the group of predictions by Mark Travis. His predictions are usually so off as to be pure comedy, but eerily, he nails a few this time. For instance, he predicts the development of a cream that can allow a person to be whatever shade they wish. While many current day Americans have perhaps heard of these only in relation to porn stars whitening their anuses, skin whitening creams are in fact a multi-billion dollar industry in places like Japan, India, and China, where paleness is perceived as an indicator of wealth. The fact that people could so blatantly kowtow to racist paradigms is another issue entirely. We’ll get into that another time maybe.

Travis also predicts that American highways will all become toll roads, and that’s of course a wet dream of today’s privatization sect, and one that’s coming closer to fruition every day. Okay, Travis missed a few too. Goat’s milk has not become a major part of the American diet yet. And as far as we know, Mexico has not yet offered instant citizenship to Americans who purchase property over the border. But here’s the thing about predictions—there’s no time limit. If they haven’t come true yet… just wait. We predict that we’ll have more issues of Rampage soon. Scans below.

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HISTORY REWIND

The headlines that mattered yesteryear.

1929—Seven Men Shot Dead in Chicago

Seven people, six of them gangster rivals of Al Capone’s South Side gang, are machine gunned to death in Chicago, Illinois, in an event that would become known as the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. Because two of the shooters were dressed as police officers, it was initially thought that police might have been responsible, but an investigation soon proved the killings were gang related. The slaughter exceeded anything yet seen in the United States at that time.

1935—Jury Finds Hauptmann Guilty

A jury in Flemington, New Jersey finds Bruno Hauptmann guilty of the 1932 kidnapping and murder of the Lindbergh baby, the son of Charles Lindbergh. Hauptmann is sentenced to death and executed in 1936. For decades, his widow Anna, fights to have his named cleared, claiming that Hauptmann did not commit the crime, and was instead a victim of prosecutorial misconduct, but her claims are ultimately dismissed in 1984 after the U.S. Supreme Court refuses to address the case.

1961—Soviets Launch Venus Probe

The U.S.S.R. launches the spacecraft Venera 1, equipped with scientific instruments to measure solar wind, micrometeorites, and cosmic radiation, towards planet Venus. The craft is the first modern planetary probe. Among its many achievements, it confirms the presence of solar wind in deep space, but overheats due to the failure of a sensor before its Venus mission is completed.

1994—Thieves Steal Munch Masterpiece

In Oslo, Norway, a pair of art thieves steal one of the world’s best-known paintings, Edvard Munch’s “The Scream,” from a gallery in the Norwegian capital. The two men take less than a minute to climb a ladder, smash through a window of the National Art Museum, and remove the painting from the wall with wire cutters. After a ransom demand the museum refuses to pay, police manage to locate the painting in May, and the two thieves, as well as two accomplices, are arrested.

1938—BBC Airs First Sci-Fi Program

BBC Television produces the first ever science fiction television program, an adaptation of a section of Czech writer Karel Capek’s dark play R.U.R., aka, Rossum’s Universal Robots. The robots in the play are not robots in the modern sense of machines, but rather are biological entities that can be mistaken for humans. Nevertheless, R.U.R. featured the first known usage of the term “robot”.

Cover art by Roswell Keller for the 1948 Pocket Books edition of Ramona Stewart's Desert Town.
Rare Argentinian cover art for The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells.

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