Editorial

Open your eyes. Dismember your selves. Splatter these pages with your dirty red secrets. Make a date with the divine Marquis in that rat-infested hotel flanked by the pussy parlour and the dope den. Squeeze yourself down this side alley for a seedy exchange of flesh, money, photographs in brown envelopes. Meet yourselves in flagrante delicto, in the mirror, in your dreams. It's all here, between the covers, my darling clandestine...

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