Mike Marino – The Secret Tapes of Mike Marino and Frank Gutch, Jr. By Arthur Burns

(These taped interviews I will be transcribing are a result of a three day weekend sit down with two hack writers who should be writing for pulp magazines that appeal to lurid fantasies of the libido rather than respectable publications.

The interviews took place over a three day period in a Tangier bordello/opium den that specialized in Algerian hashish and Ethiopian hookers of mixed blood.)

The Secret Tapes of Frank Gutch, Jr and Mike Marino

Interview conducted by Arthur Burns at Mama Do Rights House of Pleasure, Tangiers

Part One

AB: Make yourselves comfortable gentlemen, and shall we begin? Can I get you anything, a drink perhaps before we get started? (Mike passes a small hash pipe to Frank. Both inhale deeply and after a minor hallucination of dancing tampons, they are ready to begin)

MM: Anytime, and gotta admit, the hash is excellento. Our compliments to your dealer, the Midget from Morocco with the limp we met last night.

FG: He was funny. I thought he escaped from the Emerald City Mental Ward clicking his ruby red slippers the way he did. He said he knew William Burroughs and was his bugger boy when they met. A queer fellow that Burroughs.

AB: Gents, please. The interview? OK, now I feel I have some control. In your new book called, uh, got it right here, uh, oh yeah, “Sex and the Solar System” you claim to have had sexual relations in whorehouses from Saturn to Mars and Jupiter. Really, space travel and sex?:

The USS CrapBucket

FG; Well, yes, we built a spacecraft when in Oregon, got the plans from a Mobile Home dealership on the Columbia River. They have it all, yard flamingos, tiki lanterns, generators, camper tops, fishing equipment, guns, ammo, beer, land mines, and books on building spaceships, rockets and time machines.

MM: We bought one of the books, and two yard flamingos. Built the rocket ship in two months and decided that we’d be the new Kerouac and Cassidy and do a travel book on alien whorehouses.

FG: First we went to Mars, a short hop to test the rockets and the local two headed talent, remember in sex as in all things two heads are better than one! In fact the two of us only paid one price for a double header!

MM: After our Martian weekend we headed to Venus. Hotter than Nairobi in August and the smell of ammonia in the atmosphere gave us the impression we were in the laundromat at the state hospital we were in for years.

AB: So, which planet was your favorite, as far as sex and ambiance factor into it.

FG: Mine was, uh, let’s see, probably I enjoyed the hookers on Neptune the best.

AB: Why Neptune, what made them so special”

FG: The tail fins. You see, they were mermaids, space mermaids. It was like hooking a giant salmon ready to spawn from the Columbia near the dams. Have you ever made it with a fish? Tuna doesn’t count. We’ve all been there. Once you’ve had mermaid it’s hard to go back to humans.

MM: Mine was Saturn. At the Houses of the Holy Parlor, the girls wore Catholic plaid cheerleader outfits and had some great pom poms. Once they orgasmed, they’d twirl a baton and do high kicks for a lap dance. They were colored girls too…by that I man when they all lined up it was choosing from a box of Crayola Crayons. You chose by color…love burnt sienna….great album too by the way by Savoy Brown. Frank here, well he chose a magenta dwarf.

FG: but….a word of warning…stay far away from Uranus. It’s “Deliverance” in zero gravity. Once the banjos start up it aint a bluegrass festival!!! Forget Bill Monroe…think Ned Beatty.

AB: You haven’t mentioned Jupiter or Pluto, they would seem to be interesting. FG: You would,think so. Jupiter was a let down. The gravity so intense you can’t get it up at all! You take off your spacesuit and you become Marlon Brando in a kaftan!

MM: Yep, and Pluto. It’s been downgraded as a planet so most of the girls there are working the street corners and alleys. Cheap seats on the cheap streets, But for 5 space bucks , the price of a McSpace Happy Meal you can get a decent Fellatio Alger as it’s called in a darkened doorway.

AB: Thank you gentlemen. We’ll continue this tomorrow…can we discuss interplanetary drugs?

MM: Hell we can DO interplanetary drugs if your buying. It’s in our contract by the way. Your magazine promised to pay for all drugs and sex we want for three days in Tangier. (Frank Gutch cracks open two amyl nitrate poppers and gives one to Mike) Mike: that did the trick, now about those nude Nubians we saw down the street…two to go please!

The Secret Tapes of Frank Gutch, Jr and Mike Marino

Part II conducted by Arthur Burns at Kevin’s Interstellar Kush Bar Tiki Lounge and Pay What You Can Bordello in Spakane Washington

 

AB: In this age of Me Too, Frank Gutch Jr. and Mike Marino reminds us that in the past that young vixen, Lolita sucked lollipops temptingly and our inhibitions were cast aside faster than a mini skirt. Sexual attraction can be healthy in that it breaks down racial and cultural barriers. According to FG and MM, sex can bring about world peace…end world hunger…stop gun violence and end the treat of nuclear war.

FG: We’ve taken an in-depth study, research is important you know, as we looked at the variety of different ethnic races and cultures of females that we’ve been with and we have come to one conclusion. The female is a work of art. Gods Art..and we all know God is a female, yes?

MM: Womaen can be soft and gentle or rough and domineering. Whips and handcuffs can be as pleasant as whipped cream ane Cheez Whiz. Hell, some people pay good money for that after all, we both have! I found the African American women in my life were sexy panthers in bed. Sleek, sensuous, cat like and insatiable. As an artform I would say they were living sculptures with gentle curves that the artist took great care with. Sleek obsidian black lava smooth as glass born of an eruption from deep within that gave us mountains and fertile fields and deep from within her as she erupts in passion.

FG: I enjoyed the hula hymens of the Hawaiian girls..wow..those grass skirts were so sexy I wanted to use a weed whacker just to clear the field. They were pure Polynesian Gauguin that exemplified his primitivism and pastoral style. The girls were a canvas with lusty scenes of ceremonial sexual dance with the fire of tiki lights burning hot and bright under a grass skirt to bring the even the crudest of mutineers to their knees on the beach. The Polynesian Pacific Islander Hawaiian was the muse of the crew of the Bounty and made Fletcher Christian cast aside his Christian mores for a more realistic portrait of sexuality.

MM: Ah yes, but the The Native American female, at least the four I had relationships with were fine Puma pottery, sexual Kachinas who lived and loved as Mother Earth. Nothing wasted and a spirituality and sexuality that absorbed you into her fold and along with ex and passion could give you the sky, the earth and heavens without question.

FG: We both also love the Asian women. Imagine a beautiful wall hanging of exquisite calligraphy and art on a wall hanging of silk or paper. A beautiful sky lantern floating on the air currents casting a soft glow on all things around her. Tea and rice and centuries of culture command devotion, not from her, but from you to her, although she will also give in equal measure.

MM: I’ve also been with Filipinas, Latinas, two Cuban ladies in Havana and they are all definitely hot sauce in bed with a touch of Frida Kahlo when it comes to pure unadulterated liberal doses of sexual art. They were actually sexual artisans of innovation when it came down to it! The canvas was an erotic jumble of magnificent artwork that will exhaust you.

FG: Others were generally hard to make an artistic statement…German, Ukrainian, Dutch, Canadian and a Turkish delight. oh and one Samoan. The female of the species is art.she is to be treasured…honored…worshipped even as a fine golden Goddess to be placed on a pedestal.

MM: Beats those Martian babes all to hell…but to be honest, a little Neptunian nooky every now and then can make a blind me see and a lame man walk! (At this point they both take some pills from a mason jar Frank has been holding onto and load up on amphetamines.) MM: How big is your expense account anyway. I ran into two Pygmy hookers in the lobby this morning that promised me for $2.00 they could shrink my head. How about it Arthur? Don’t get cheap on us. Your magazines rolling in dough.

FG: Just write it off under tribal sex.

AB: Won;’t some old Nat Geos on tribal women do it for you?

FG: Nope….the real thing.Mike already promised them we’d marry them and make them famous as midget wrestlers….

MM: When can we talk about drugs? They too can bring unity in the galaxy.

AB: Soon, I assure you but next I’d like to discuss writing and your music careers, for instance why did Frank start a polka band and how did Simon and Garfunkel rip you off?

The Secret Tapes of Frank Gutch Jr. & Mike Marino Part III

(Interview conducted by Arthur Burns at Big Al’s Sex Emporium in North Beach in San Francisco)

AB: A little bit of a change of pace, I hope you two feel right at home here. Today I want to discuss your musical careers and writing. Seems you two never got the “brass ring” but, at least some interesting run ins with people like Simon and Garfunkel.

FB: It was a rocky start, We were inspired by Sky Saxon and the Seeds and of course, The Standells. To us those two groups were Jesus Christ and Buddha all rolled into one. We also loved the Blues Magoos and the Toledo Kid Polka Band from Ohio.

MM: We also screwed up because we wanted to try something different. I wanted to add a psychedelic element to the sound, Frank wanted that goddamned blue grass shit. So we compromised and went all out Garage Surf Polka. We wore funny leotards and looked like two flaming members of the Hitler Youth. Maybe the swastikas were too much

FG: Yeah, “Pushin’ Too Hard” with a beer barrel beat was too much for radio. I still think we released it too early. If we had waited..wow. The Woodstock Music Festival was one of those real counter culture wavy gravy experiences of rock and roll king biscuits held in an open field and not in the court of the crimson king…but, it was not the complete musical experience that it could have been…or should have been without a good polka band.

MM: Ha, all they had was John Sebastian pleading with you to pick up the trash like a lovin’ spoonful sanitation engineer….Arlo stoned trying to describe the New York Thruway and brown acid flowing freely…don’t eat the brown acid! Comic moments of stoned musicians trying to be philosophical by schlepping hamburgers and telling us to love our brothers and sisters, mud and all. It was not complete.

FG: It never had a polka band perform in it’s long list of performers. Imagine Crosby, Still, Nash and Stosh breaking into a rousing chorus of “My Dahlink Sveet Judy Blue Eyes Polka” or Jimi Hendrix asking in electro wah wah if you were Polka Experienced!

MM: You know, there is such a thing as Psychedelic Polka…to hear it, simply put enough oomp pah pah acid in Toledo or Milwaukee, the undisputed Haight and Ashbury of Polka Music according to the Accordion Apocalypse Now! Or put on that old vinyl copy of Sgt. Polka’s Lonely Bratwurst Band. You can go underground in the netherworld of the subterranean homesick polka blues with a bootleg copy of Left Over Salmon’s “420 Polka”

FG: We coulda been a contenda, I tell you.

AB: What happened between you and Simon and Garfunkel?

FG: Oh that. Two things brought that on. First we named our group, Koo Koo Ka Choo and performed live in Toronto at the first annual Polka and Beer Festival at St. Casimirs Hall. He was the patron saint of bratwurst by the way. S & G were the also on the bill.

MM: Those pricks used the line in a song about some sexy cougar and then along come the Beatles and used it too…all because when we toured England I jokingly introduced Frank as the Eggman and myself as the Walrus.

AB: Then you made a foray into folk music. Tha didn’t work out either.

FG: No not at all. We tried to sound too much like Donovan and Bob Dylan. We eventually formed a Mama’s and Papa’s like group where we dressed in full drag calling ourselves “The Fairy Princess” Banned us in Boston, but loved us in London. In fact I even got a marriage proposal from Keith Richards. He was so whacked at the time he thought I was Dusty Springfield, ha! Broke his heart when he discovered I had falsies on!

MM: We even did an album of Leonard Cohen and Rod McKuen covers. It was a disaster, but not as bad as when we backed up William Shatner doing “Lucy in the Sky”

FG: Then I went on a yoga retreat with the Maharishi Mahesh Marrakesh Express in Banff, Canada where all he kept saying “Getting banged in Banff is better than Bangor, my son!” This was the part of my life where I became addicted to poutine, the gateway drug to Tim Hortons carry out and had to go into rehab at the Martin Short Clinic in the Yukon where Eskimo nurses give you a sponge bath in blubber dressesd as Mounties.

MM: It was a bad scene. All he kept saying after that was “Eh?” and how we should delve into the world of Canadian music. But I refuse to do any Anne Murray covers just to crack the Saskatoon record market. California Surf sounding music from Canada was another approach we tried but our one release “Surfin’ Hudson Bay” was a bomb. Ice fishing yes, “Surfing in Tofino” British Columbia almost made 96 on the Canadian charts, which when you do the conversion would be 28 on Billboard here in the states.

FG: Got any passes to the strip clubs on Columbus Ave.? It’s in our contract.

AB: Yeah, yeah, yeah. We got ya covered. The Bangles will be playing topless tonight at the Club Morocco Got ya front table.

MM: Finally…we get some T & A for our Q & A!

FG: Eh? Next up: Frank and Mike discuss writing at an undisclosed crack house in downtown Detroit…

=MM=
Mike Marino has made his “roadhead” bones and enjoy’s nothing better than a greasy, unfolded map on the seat of the car…a bag of beef jerky and smoked fish and a cream soda to wash it all down as the highway and the steel belts play a meloldy of asphalt. Originally a product of the Motor City, Mike has lived in on the streets and on the beach in Hawaii, as well as in Haight Ashbury and the North Beach neighborhoods in San Francisco. Mike is also founder of the Experimental Theater Workshop, The Spare Change Artists Project, adn the Dung Zen Sustainable Living Project. He is primarily though a freelance magazine writer of pop culture, car culture, travel and history for numerous publications and he enjoys Hawaiian shirts, classic cars, Ed Wood Movies, fuzzy dice and hula dashboard ornaments as well as a good Hemmingway cigar, Corona beer, hiking and backpacking and rummaging through flea markets and auto junkyards.

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