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"The Picture" is a low-grade porn magazine published weekly by ACP Publishing Pty Ltd in Australia. It is rated 'M', which means that it is for unrestricted sale, but is not recommended for children under the age of 15 as a result of the sexual content and pictures of breasts and genitalia.

Regular features of the magazine include:

  • Home Blokes and Home Girls: Readers are paid to send in nude photos of themselves or their partners. Short articles accompany the pictures so that the reader may get to know the sexy models a little better. For those who are a bit shy about appearing in a magazine naked, "Bag Shots" are available, where the face is obscured by an image of a brown paper bag.
  • Me and my Boobs: Gives future models a break- girls are offered $500 for a topless photo shoot.
  • My Public Fuck: Self explanatory. Lots of tales of sex on trains or in toilets, and blatantly fictional stories involving orgies in supermarkets.

Other winning headlines in Issue #644 include:

The magazine has seemingly random capitalisation of words, as seen in the following example:

"YOU may remember 19 year-old Alexis from her TROUSER BUSTING appearance in #638. And you may also recall the many FRANTIC, WRIST CRAMPING WANKS you had while ogling her MAMnificent 10D chesties... " (page 68)

The articles are unashamedly blokey and down-to-earth (read: crude and sexist), but, for that reason, stand out from a lot of other magazines for men which make excuses for their existance by trying to raise the tone of their product through 'clever' articles. While "The Picture" is far from stylish or politically correct, it is mildly amusing as it aims for the lower-class demographic, the writers making fun of themselves, the people who appear in the magazine and the audience itself. For this reason, "The Picture" deserves just a little bit less derision and disgust than it attracts at first glance.

Not that I've ever read it or anything, it's just what I've heard.

The Picture

There are few pictures of me
Self conscious, I try to stay behind the camera
There’s one, though—
I’m standing in the doorway of your dorm room
Twenty years old
Black hat bought in England, my eyes half hidden under the brim
Black leather jacket, shining in the flash’s light
My hair long and dyed red
My skin pale, white as my t-shirt
My braces-straitened teeth stained yellow from coffee

I was smiling
I thought you loved me

I know better now
I smile less
And stay behind the camera

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