Sexual Chocolate: My Top 5 Hunks

Tonight I had the pleasure of having my good friend Joker for a chat in the office. Travis and the Joker man asked me flat out why I love the Bourdain man. That left me thinking... if I had the pleasure of doing the nasty with 5 men... with no consecuences at all... who would I pick? Let's find out, shall we?

In no particular order of preference, here they are.

1) Anthony Bourdain. Why? I just love a dick, no pun intended. Men with attitudes have always sparked a thing or two in me. Ok, he's sometimes nice and tender... but not all the time. And I dig that. Besides. He cooks. He travels. He swears. He smokes. He drinks. My kind of guy. Who cares if he's not an Iron Chef. He's my Iron Man.

2) Bill Clinton. Why? Damn sexy if you ask me. I would go to Cuba and get his damn cigars at least one time a month. Sorry Hillary, you dropped the ball. I would be his intern any damn day of the week. And I would answer "Yes mister president" all the time. Yum.

3) Matt Lauer. Why? Just to wake to him every single day, with pancakes in bed would be a pleasure. Lovely sense of humor. Intelligent. Filthy rich. Oh, and he's like wine. Gets even better with age.

4) Bruce Willis. Why? I know that this man was put on this earth for me to drool, literally.

5) Luis Miguel. Why? This is the single most hot homo sapiens there can be. Who cares if he treats women like shit. Who cares if he snorts coke. To tell you a true story, when I was married my ex-husband commited the mistake of taking me to one of his concerts. My mother, because she knows me like hell, gave me binoculars so I could admire him a little bit closer. As he walked on stage, I put on my binoculars... and proceeded to say the most obscene things I wanted to do to him. For a split second, I had forgotten the fact that I was married... and I didn't give a shit. A couple of days ago I stated that I don't watch porn that much. I don't have to. I have Luis Miguel on DVD. Works just the same for me.

So. There you have it. My top 5 hunks. Go ahead, make our day and tell us what are your hunks or hunkettes.

Bourdain and Zimmern hit NYC!

Do you love Manhattan as much as I do? Doubt it. Nah, just kidding. Just a quick reminder. This Monday, August 6, the travel channel is featuring two of its finest Chefs, my fantasy love machine Anthony Bourdain and Andrew Zimmern in back to back NYC specials. First off it's Bizarre Foods - you know the drill, the man eats ass if its put on a plate, and I mean it - and then, my sweet hot cake of sexual fantasy, Bourdain, returns the favor with a cool look at great food and life at the Big Apple.

Look. Mondays without Heroes suck. But at least we have these two guys helping out until the guys come back.

Hope you watch!

PS: Did I tell you that the male stripper gave me his phone number and asked me out to Italian dinner? Will that man be my Sicilian Future Ex-Husband? We'll see... we'll see.

Won't you take me to Boobytown: My adventures at a private stripping party.

This last Friday can be summed in one word: interesting. Get ready, guys and gals. I got invited this past Friday to attend a private srip party... and I'm dying to tell you what happened. Let's give you the brief.

A friend of a friend calls. Tell Me that she has to go to the stip party. Um. Ok. Why? Let's just say I got a surprise for her. Um, ok. So they tell me I have to go. Um. Sure.

Hey. I have no problems with anything sexual or "porn" related, but it's not like I plan my weekends around seeing boobs. My sex ed has come from sources like Playboy (which my ex-husband collected like Star Wars fans collect Han Solo's), the HBO series Cathouse (a must see for any chick who wants to actually learn stuff from pro's), a little late night Cinemax and loads of books on the female human body. That's it. In other words, I am not an avid porn watcher. Never have, think that never will.

But I thought. Hey. You can either go to see a movie or hit a bar... or you can do something different. Maybe I could learn something, right? So? I went. I am soooo glad I did. Let me explain why.

First of all, I thought it was going to be a mess. Guys would be all drunk, trying to grab those poor chicks dancing on a pole. I thought that the girls would all be skanky ho's, with no class or self respect. I thought that I would see a show which demeans women and exploits sex in its finest form. I was soooooo mistaken, you can't even begin to understand how so.

The show was simply amazing. I learned a lot. Let me start off by saying that those girls have amazing body strength. The fact that they can hold their bodies on a metal pole and hoist themselves on any position that can make yoga a walk in the park, for me was amazing. No average chick can do that without some serious exercise and training, I guarantee that. So, the first thing that struck me was... those girls have amazing power. Good. Point one for the strippers. Let's continue.

Second thing that hits me. My idea of a beautiful, well formed body is a thing to be questioned. (Ok Joker, I have body issues, I know... hehehe) Here I thought I was going to see picture perfect women. Perfect boobs. Perfect muscles. No cellulite, flat tummies. Perfect butt. Not so. I was expecting abs. Not one pack in sight. Those were normal women. Normal boobs. Almost flat stomachs. A jiggle there. Imperfections. What struck me the most was the fact that while I was seeing a little tummy there, or a huge thigh over there, the men were saying that those women were beautiful.

What made a mark in me was the fact that I was seeing the "flaws" I hate in my own body, fully appreciated by hundred of men all around me. While I starve to death and make weird concoctions to not eat as much to try to fix my little pot belly, as my loving Bruce Willis in Pulp Fiction calls it, or to make my ass look smaller, those women were dancing their ho' shoes off, damn proud of their small imperfections. I understood one thing. I look like those girls dancing. If they are beautiful, then I am as well. I finally understood that there is a difference between fat and normal looking, not thin or waif. Men like healthy, fit bodies. And fit is not extremely thin, does not require abs or muscles. Just the right lines and curves. Amazing to me.

But wait, there is more. Third thing that made me go hmmm. This is a celebration of the beauty of a woman and sexuality. As a boob carrier I sat down and I didn't feel for a minute that those girls were degrading themselves for a quick buck. This is a business. The business of fantasy, beauty and most of all, appreciation. As I sat there and saw their faces and the way they moved, I felt their empowerment. They were damn proud of their effect on men, they were embracing their sexuality with freedom. How many times I have seen women trying to conform themselves to society while not being themselves. With every movement there were saying... it's ok to be sexual, it's ok to enjoy the pleasures that life gives us.

Are you ready for the prize winner? The main attraction was a porn star. Very well known. For what? She is known to be the filthiest porn star to this generation of porn lovers. There go the misconceptions again in my mind. This girl is going to be a down right slut. She's going to be loud, obnoxious, she will try to screw anything in sight. Not so, again. Talk about a damn beautiful performance. Talk about class and dignity. She gave those guys the time of their lifes. Um. Ok, she took off enough to make me think I had seen her liver. Yes, fully naked. But again, a what I thought was going to be porn at its finest turned out to be a very classy act. This was all a story on a small stage. She took them in a wild ride. And at the end, when all was finished, she simply stood up, gave a small curtsy, put on a robe and proceeded to talk and greet every single man that was in the joint.

I don't presume that all strip parties are like that. I know for a fact that there are women out there who will screw a horse if the money is right. But for one night, I was damn proud of being a woman, about the fact that I don't have any reservations about sex or sexuality and that I have a open mind to see the beauty of this kind of show.

Oh. The surprise? They had made a section of the show with a male stripper I like. Just for me.

Jesus loves me.

Someone is going to hell for this ad.

Cool ass!!!

This is your world, at night. Click it for a bigger picture. Enjoy.

You haven't lived life until you have seen: Riky-Oh!

I am an avid Digg user. Instead of reading my local newspaper, I click my way to Digg almost 10 times a day and get my info there. I find gems. Gems, I tell you. For those of you who are lost in space and don't know about Digg, it is a site where users provide content on a daily basis. You can find everything under the sun. Video clips, movie announcements, US and International News, Tech Stuff... (Hence the Digg box at the right, to let you join in the fun). Then, after a week has gone by, you get to watch Diggnation (suscribe at your iTunes store) to see what made it to the top stories. Great podcast. So... one day with nothing to do, I find this digg about this movie. Click. Click. Holy Shit!!!!!!

I found it so damn funny I immediately posted a sort of Riky-Oh clips here at WAS. We laughed so hard at the office, watching again and again, that, well, curiosity killed the cat. My partner in crime started telling me that we should buy the movie and see it in its full glory.

A couple of months later, I decided to give him the movie as a gift for his birthday. Blood, gore, true violence and really ugly bad acting. What you want, I deliver. Look. I saw it. I sat down and watched it, every second of it. As God is my witness, this is the single most funniest dark cult classic you will ever see.

Riky-Oh, or the Story of Ricky, is the great tale about a man who goes to jail for the wrong reasons and finds himself in the crappiest, most corrupt jails this world has ever seen. Take Abu Ghraib and multiply that a thousand times worst. But the weird thing is... Riky has an amazing gift. He was trained to develop what seems to be an inmense power. He is the strongest man to walk the earth. He can rip your guts out - um, literally - if you piss him off. Riky has to defend himself from the goons of the jail... and does he ever.

The film has some great gems, like when you see a man crushing another man's head, full force. Or when he rips the guts out of a man, and the victim proceeds to try to choke him with his intestines. Gem, I tell you. Gem.

The best part is the bad acting, really bad music, extremely stupid special effects... and the great fact that the movie is dubbed in english but the subtitles don't match a single word that is spoken. You sit there, laughing until you cry.

How can you find it? Forget about your local video store. Go to Amazon and buy a copy. But, a word of advice... this is not for those who use "cinema" and "academy award winner" as a motto in life. This movie is for the few of us who love stupid movies, loaded witn unusual gore and violence. Think John Rambo or Robocop. That might give you a hint of what's to come.

If you want to see a couple of great moments of this flick, head to YouTube and search for the Story of Ricky.

Enjoy!

Rent it today!

UPDATE: Ok, so I posted this poster and I was too busy moving the logo to the left a bit to write about it. On one of my latest NYC trips, it was raining and, well, we saw this review on the Village Voice about this weird monster movie. Let's hit it, we said. Off we went, and dammit, we had the best time ever.

The movie is about a weird monster who appears in some sort of lake or river... (who knows), which takes people and... you know what happens next. I would say that the monster is a cool version of Godzilla mixed with your garden variety alligator. The problem is? A family, who has a small food store near the water, suffers the agony of having their little girl taken by this cool animal. They start to find a way to look for her, but the government is not helping out.

Do they find her? Do they kill the bastard animal? Watch and find out. Don't go expecting the greatest FX ever, just sit down, enjoy your popcorn and worry for a while.

Brilliant!

The John Rambo WAS Movie Special!!!

Here at WAS we have a special tradition. When a cool movie opens, we all get together, have two or three Tequila shots at the nearest bar and head off to the movies. But this one is special, and I hope you all do it with us. Join the WAS team wherever you are on 2008 and wait for John Rambo to open.

Plan it carefully. Take all the ones that you love. Go to whatever bar you wish, but do it near the movie theater (my recommendation). Order a round of Tequila shots and toast with pride the fact that you will see this gem.

Then... let's all see the greatest movie ever. Gore. Violence. Blood. Rambo. You can't ask for anything more. Don't have anyone to go with? Go alone, who cares. You will be going with us in some way. Then, a couple of weeks after (let's give everyone a fair chance to enjoy the different opening days), we will write back and say what we loved about this carnage on film.

Yes... At WAS we have many cool traditions, some we have forgotten to keep, some I have been doing for quite a while (Commando day is a weekly thing for me, thank you very much). But this one is special, because we are asking all our readers to join in the fun and see a movie that maybe will suck beyond belief, or maybe, just maybe, becomes the greatest Cult Classic of our time.

So, WAS readers, you have a date with us. And of course, with John himself. Hope you make it!

Don’t speak without knowing

How many times have you or someone you know said something on the lines of: “Wow, that ad blows so hard. If I had that account, I could do so much better”? If you can say at least once, then feel free to slap yourself or your friend on the stomach repeatedly until you achieve a bona fide red-belly (slapping on the face is not exhorted but not punished either, so feel free to do that to).

Why do I come out with that random rant? Well it’s because consistently we practice unfair binges of empathy while lambasting the names of those who have to work the account, at times blaming them for the shit work that comes out.

“So is this another bitch fit about clients?”

Why of course. I bring this point up because hell we all love to rip a shitty ad a new asshole but more often than not, we exclusively put the blame on the creatives or at least non-industry people or newbies commit this faux-pas and I just like to say that I learned the hard way not to say shit like the initial phrase in the first paragraph. We were doing a sales pitch for an account and said all the ways we could clearly and easily make better work. Of course we forgot to take into account the Client Factor and simply based revisions on the ad per se. Trust me if working in advertising were that easy, there wouldn’t be a third of the blogs including this one.

What you need to understand is that a client has developed a sense of making things so implausibly impossible that any shit fellow ad-ites give to any of their creative kin is to be not only frowned upon but preferably shat on tainted chili style. Of course we had all the advertising solutions to help get that brand out of the gutter but applying said theorems, designs, solution blue prints etc is far from the day-to-day malaise of practice that is the reality of working certain accounts.

Really, everyone has the perfect solution for an account but if you don’t convince the account that it desperately needs a change, they won’t fix what they still swear isn’t broken. Sales could be more depressing than Michael Jackson masturbating to something other than the Disney channel and they wouldn’t care. Sales personnel could offer a no commitment fuck you to clients, and there is still no problem. Adverts could look more dated than Vanilla Ice’s flat top and they still wouldn’t give a shit. But it’s not because the client thinks within the box. No, no. The client thinks within the hole they have dug for themselves and the only rational solutions advertisement wise is to copy the competition if they really need to change. Safe campaigns get approved by clients but they are rarely willingly produced by creatives. They are the shit option developed to show them why what we recommend is better. But when’s the last time a client gave a shit about a recommendation.

When you think about it, for being experts in the matters dealing with advertising, a large chunk of what we produced is tailor made to the likes of the client. Their criteria is what’s being taken into consideration and our expertise is worth about as much as the toy in a happy meal after heating the entire bag for two minutes. But you really don’t figure out how much it’s all about the client and not about the potential of the account until you’re ankle deep in the cesspools within the trenches where brave, wonderful and imaginative campaigns lay wounded or dead among a group of scared, apathetic, lifeless, soulless and/or unmotivated creatives.

So next time you think you can do much better work for a client, feel free to do a salespitch. Who knows, you might just win that illustrious account and while you burn away the hours in front of your computer and you are being spliced by seven metric tons of wasted paper of rejected layouts, you’ll hear two things… the slave drum on a ship as you sail the seas of shit and far off, the cheers and symphonic beauty of the old agency celebrating their “devastating loss” of one of their “most important clients”.

Cheers