"Jennifer Hudson at ’One Night Only’"

"Jennifer Hudson at ’One Night Only’"

Review by Mike Diamond

From EDGE PUBLICATIONS 1/1/07

The hand painted ceiling of the Hammerstein Ballroom. 75 feet high, is adorned with a beautiful fresco: clouds, blue sky, and angels singing. On the stage below, just before midnight, another angel appeared, and let loose a voice that shook the rafters and electrified the crowd.

Jennifer Hudson, breakout star of the movie Dreamgirls, and fan favorite from American Idol third season, is that rare performer who not only meets one’s expectations, but actually exceeds them. As the floor lights went dark and the stage curtains parted, the crowd rushed forward to get closer to this newly minted diva on the rise. Standing alone in front of a microphone, Hudson’s ample curves were lovingly wrapped in a sparkling sequined cocktail dress, accented with simple silver jewelry, soft brown waves of hair cascading over her shoulders. She was radiant in the spotlight, basking in the love from the crowd. And then she sang.

Opening with the title song from ’Dreamgirls’ Hudson’s powerful voice tore through several numbers from the film, including I Love You, I Do, Move and I am Changing. Her skills as a performer brought these somewhat calcified show tunes to life, giving the evening the feel of a tent church revival, the crowd of star struck queens throwing their hands in the air with abandon.

Interspersed with the songs - along the way Miss Jennifer also had her way with Respect and Weekend in New England- her larger than life personality was in full force. Riffing on everything from getting booted from Idol to her nerve wracking three auditions for Dreamgirls, Hudson came across as funny, charming, confident with out being arrogant. She’s a natural; from hand on hip sassiness to glamorous young diva to down home country gal, Hudson has that quality that truly reverberates; realness.

The penultimate number of the night was, naturally, One Night Only, powerfully sung and deeply felt. The song then morphed into a shiny disco number complete with sexy, half naked go-go boys, old school voguing, and dancing drag queens (including Kevin Aviance sporting a neon red Mohawk wig). Before turning the night over to uber-DJ Junior Vasquez and his cult of stomping muscle boys, Hudson belted out the Donna Summer classic Last Dance. Her gaggle of bouncing, gyrating club kids behind her, Jennifer stepped off the stage to touch hands, give the queens in the front a moment to sing on the mike, her smile beaming, her hips swaying in that glittery, skintight garment.

Hudson came across as fun loving and genuine; she repeatedly spoke of how blessed she felt, and how much she loved performing for her (rapidly increasing) fans. She’s been nominated for a Golden Globe for her performance as Effie White and in November of 2006, she signed with J Records, becoming music master Clive Davis’ latest protégé. Seeing Jennifer Hudson in One Night Only was truly like watching a star being born; this girl has the whole package - incredible talent, sex appeal, stage presence and charm to spare. She left the stage glowing and smiling, the lights dimmed, and the party people danced, Hudson’s powerhouse voice a clarion call to welcome in the New Year.

Come and Knock On Her Door

Come and knock on her door—and buy her products

Irrepressible TV legend Suzanne Somers is back in the spotlight, this time as purveyor of an eponymous line of food, jewelry, and beauty products. And gay men around the country are buying them up at private parties in the best Tupperware tradition. A look inside the strange new trend.

By Mike Diamond An Advocate.com exclusive posted April 3, 2007


Suzanne Somers, über-blond gay icon, is many things: glitzy Vegas showgirl, Master of Thighs, poet, Adult Child of an Alcoholic, ubiquitous star of television schlock-coms like She's the Sheriff and Step by Step, not to mention her most famous role as ditzy Chrissy Snow in the 1970s TV classic Three's Company. Now the tireless glamour queen has fashioned herself as a modern-day Mary Kay as creator and promoter of Suzanne, a line of food, jewelry, and beauty products that is being sold at intimate weekly parties in homes across the country.

Hosted by "independent Suzanne consultants" since October 2006, the events are a decidedly contemporary take on the Tupperware and Avon parties of yore. Misael Maldonado, a gay man and longtime Suzanne fan, hosted such a happening at the home of charter consultant Mark Paulk in New York City earlier this year.

The eager queens, fag hags, and the occasional straight couple at the gathering started by sampling various food products, including a pot roast prepared with Suzanne's Beef Bourguignon Simmer Sauce and crudités with a cilantro-and-lime dip. “I'll buy this dip. It's delicious,” said party guest Maria Vaccaro as Paulk looked on proudly. Was Vaccaro at all influenced by Somers's association with the creamy yogurt-based concoction? “Well, I've always liked her—for God's sake, she was Chrissy," she said, picking up an order form. Paulk then demonstrated the creation of La Somers's light and fluffy chocolate mousse. Total prep time: three minutes.

When Maldonado passed around glasses of white wine, the irony of the chairwoman of the Association of Children of Alcoholics and a woman voted ACOA of the year hawking an $18.99 cocktail mixer assortment went unnoticed by the crowd. They were equally nonplused by the recent controversies surrounding Somers's latest book Ageless: The Naked Truth About Bio-identical Hormones. "She's entitled to her opinion," said guest Brian Barry, nibbling on celery loaded with salsa dip. "I saw her on Larry King Live. She was all fired up about her book and her beliefs. Look, I don't think it has anything to do with her products. Honey, this food is actually pretty fierce.”

In the beauty segment of the evening, guests were introduced to Suzanne's apple pectin mask and spray-on cosmetics (for when you want to look lovely but simply don't have the time). The partygoers were particularly spellbound when Paulk demonstrated the Face Master. Using microcurrents of electrical energy (nine-volt battery not included), the gadget is supposed to stimulate and strengthen by zapping face muscles, thus improving facial tone. With blown-out, hyperretouched photos of the product's creator beaming down at them from the wall, Paulk demonstrated the device on volunteers from the party.

"Using the Face Master is like sending your face to the gym," Maldonado said, quoting from the instructional DVD. Carolina, the first guinea pig, grimaced slightly as the slim wands were gently guided over her visage, jolting her with low-level electricity. Later, she said it was “painless and oddly refreshing." A few guests were curious as to whether the Face Master could be used on other, more erogenous body parts, something not addressed in any of the promotional materials.

The Suzanne business (motto: "Share the joy") is designed to be an ever-growing entity, targeting freelancers, beauty and food specialists, and stay-at-home moms as ambassadors. Consultants, currently numbering around 1,000, are encouraged to bring others into the fold. Aside from income, incentives include exclusive hostess gifts, such as a Maltese cross cuff bracelet or a hand-painted violet chip-and-dip bowl.
“C'mon, she looks damn good for her age," Maldonado said. “The woman's been around for like 200 years. She must be doing something right.”

Panties in a Twist

From Time Out New York / Issue 588 January 10, 2007

Panties in a twist
Sexy skivvies aimed at gay men are an undercover phenomenon.
By Mike Diamond

Step into the Big Booty Bread Company on 23rd Street in Chelsea and you’ll find a curious new sales item competing with the cupcakes and cinnamon buns: men’s underwear. The black briefs, emblazoned with the image of the bakery’s big-butted male mascot, seemed a better fit than an ol’ T-shirt, say the owners—especially in light of the frenzy that seems to have gripped the asses of gay men across the city.

“Gay men are celebrating their ability to shine and strut their feathers,” says Susie Rochin, marketing coordinator for RIPS (

rips.com), a North Carolina–based underwear maker that focuses on gay buyers, with products at local stores like Chelsea’s Rainbow Station. “They are doing what’s been okay for decades for women: wearing underwear that gets them attention, makes them feel sexy, puts them in a certain mood.”

Greg Sovell, the gay cofounder of the New York–based C-IN2 (which features seriously homoerotic cop-and-perp photos on its website, c-in2.com), agrees. “I think men’s underwear has evolved,” he says. “There are so many more options today, and men are clearly taking more chances.”

Though the trend has certainly gained steam in the past year or so, credit should be traced to the ad campaign that no man worth his shorts can forget: the Calvin Klein billboards of the early 1980s. “Since the first Calvin Klein billboard,” notes Rochin, “the underwear industry has noticed the power of the gay market.”

Today you can step into just about any city clothing shop popular with homos—the Starting Line, Universal Gear, Wear Me Out, even H&M—and find multiple brands of fancy underpants competing for space. “C-IN2 is a big seller,” notes the Starting Line’s owner, Gus Salce, referring to the brand that features “sling support” and comes in tasty colors like “coffee,” “carrot” and “zinfandel.” Salce adds that, in the past year, he’s seen a sharp rise in the number of boys on the prowl for hot undies.

“When I hook up with a guy, I always look forward to dropping my pants,” says Steve, a Chelsea boy perusing the offerings at the Starting Line recently. “I prefer RIPS drawstring briefs, very soft and sheer,” he explains, declining to give his last name. “The Wax Brand Street Jock is hot, with a wide waistband. Wearing them turns me on.”

One fashion designer who was quick to notice the trend is Jeff Danzer, founder of the NYC-based PL›Y (like play on a CD player) Underwear (

playunderwear.com), which launched in 2005. “Wearing sexy underwear instills confidence in a man, gay or straight,” says Danzer, who is the former marketing guru behind runaway success story 2(x)ist . “I think gay men are just more comfortable showing off that sexiness than straight men are.”

PL›Y products play right into that belief, offering clingy briefs and jocks in Day-Glo colors like electric turquoise and tangerine, featuring a crotch-level inner pouch for stashing go-go tips—and hoisting a guy’s best assets front and center.
Other popular man-panty makers include Wax Brand (

waxbrand.com), which, with its barbed-wire logo, thick waistbands and camo prints, is designed for guys who fancy themselves rugged; a more whimsical choice is Aussie Bum (aussiebum.com), which hails from, appropriately, Down Under.

This lust for undies isn’t confined to the five boroughs, of course. “As much as we New Yorkers like to consider NYC the center of the universe,” says C-IN2’s Sovell, “the world today expands past our boundaries.”
“Definitely it’s happening all over the USA, even Alabama,” says Rochin. “And I figure if a men’s underwear store can make it in Alabama, there’s been a lot of progress down there.”

Splitting Hairs

From Time Out New York / Issue 597 March 14, 2007

Splitting Hairs
It’s a bear market out there—but who’s buying?
By Mike Diamond

You don’t have to be Ranger Smith to see that bears are taking over the city’s gayborhoods. Big, furry guys hold court at parties around town, from long-running nights like the View Bar’s Woof! to more recent additions, including Snaxx (and its special-event Supersnaxx), XXL’s Transatlantic Tea Dance and, come April, the gala Bear Trek 2007: Bears in the Jungle (bear-trek.com).

“There’s a large portion of the gay community—thirties-to-fifties guys, regular guys, hairy guys—who feel ignored by the gay mainstream,” noted the Center’s Fur Ball promoter Joe Fiore, whose first such party, this past November, drew a crowd of 600 (the next is May 19). “They’ve flocked to events where they can hang with their regular-guy, beer-swilling kind and not be judged.”

Still, bears are not immune to the type of body-image fascism usually associated with Chelsea-boy culture—and it’s not hard to hear the grrrrrr! of this struggle rising from below the surface of the warm and fuzzy fetes. It’s the sound of a growing debate about the bear label itself—who’s fit to claim it, and who gets to decide.

The bear subculture developed in 1980s San Francisco—an embracement of a more masculine, husky look that responded to the image-obsessed gay scene. But now, say many men, new bear events are putting forth a chiseled, hunky, “muscle bear” look that can feel just as restrictive as other labels.

“The community—if there really is one beyond just being a target market for porn, cruising websites, T-shirts and vacations—has changed since the 1980s,” says Brian O’Dell, 50, president and cofounder of Bear Café New York, which hosts socials, potlucks and bake-offs at the Center. “Back then, it was a place where hairy men, big men and men who did not fit into the young, self-centered, twinkie look escaped to find friendship and love. Now it can be just as exclusive.”

“ ‘Bear’ used to be about challenging gay stereotypes of beauty, maturity and masculinity,” notes Scott McGillivray, 45, publisher of the California-based 100% BEEF magazine, which tends to feature bearish men on its pages. “Nowadays, it seems to be more about money, marginalization, a quick buck—which is sad. So many folks out there who have no idea what it’s about are cashing in and, in the process, diluting the definition of what a bear is.”
As a result, some have continued to feel ostracized for being too fat, furry or femme. “It is a really depressing thought that the group that helped me feel better about my body image would slowly be usurped by the same type of clone mentality that I find so disturbing about the gay community in general,” notes Anthony Vasquez, 35, a self-defined cub (young or bottom bear) and former gay-ballroom scenester.

Still, plenty of men say the hirsute world—even with its seemingly more exclusive parameters—is still more accepting than most other gay scenes. “For the most part, muscle bears themselves tend to be very welcoming of bears of all types,” says Mike Cotter, who is Mr. MetroBear NY 2005 (a title bestowed upon him by the MetroBears New York social organization). Gustavo Motta, DJ for Snaxx and Supersnaxx parties, concurs. “Different categories of bears sometimes go to different bars and parties,” he says. “But there’s no division, just diversity.”
“With new people comes a fresh perspective, which is something that can do wonders for an established community,” adds Louie Colasurdo, Mr. MetroCub NY 2006 and Mr. International Cub 2006.

Still others dismiss the growling as a bunch of noise. “Look, all this stuff is bull!” says Mark Ames, promoter of the XXL tea dance, an extension of his popular seven-year-old XXL party in London. He contends there are many reasons that men gravitate toward the bear scene—whether based on philosophy or just the look—and that all of them are valid. “It’s not the type of bear body you have, it’s the lack of attitude that makes you an asset. Life’s about fun and supporting each other, and that’s what we as a community should be about.”

Schwarzwald: Review

If you're ever at a club and you see TV screens showing off group sex, pig masks, and fan dancers, you may be watching Schwarzwald, one of the most intriguing films ever made.

By Mike Diamond

An Advocate.com exclusive posted July 23, 2007

Have you recently been in a nightclub and hallucinated that you were seeing porn stars in pig masks, heathen acts of leather sex, and thousands of shirtless dancing circuit boys on the video screens? Did you just see footage of a goateed muscle boy tied to a tree and catch a glimpse of his…vagina?

You're not having an acid flashback—you've been watching the recently released Schwarzwald: The Movie You Can Dance To. An "allegorical fairy tale," the hour-long film comes from producers of New York's City's legendary Black Party and, appropriately enough, features a soundtrack that will have asses shaking and imagery that will make jaws drop.

The project is both a promotional tool for the annual Black Party and a long-form music video with a loose Dungeons & Dragons–flavored narrative. Darkly erotic, Schwarzwald will no doubt prove to be disturbing to some, arousing to others. Writer-director Richard Kimmel has crafted a work that combines scenes from the infamous Black Party with footage filmed at Whipman's Estate in Otisville, N.Y. The party sequences—voguing queens doing runway, gorgeous sculpted dudes rocking the dance floor in bizarre outfits, old-school fan dancers—are melded with a tableau of outdoor sex scenes, overlaid with a Merlinesque aesthetic.

Featuring female-to-male transsexual sensation Buck Angel, porn hottie Blu Kennedy, and gay singer Daniel Cartier, these segments illustrate carnal pagan rituals through the use of animal masks, fetish gear, bondage play, and group sex.
"The project was inspired by the annual ritual of the Black Party and its origins in ancient druidic rites," says Kimmel. "It was shot over two consecutive weekends last year, in sequence, mostly one take. We tried to capture the spirit and energy of an 18-hour event and a 28-year tradition, and distill it to a one-hour journey with a satisfying emotional arc."

Intended for playback at bars, clubs, and parties, the DVD is also available for purchase online for $25, allowing homebodies a chance to re-create the hedonistic club experience right in their living rooms.

Schwarzwald is scored to a continuous dance mix by celebrated DJs Peter Rauhofer, Offer Nissim, and Michael Fierman. You actually could throw this disc in as fabulous background music and not even watch the visuals—then, of course, you would miss half the fun. The tribal essence of the notorious Black Party—which, held at the vernal equinox, reinterprets an ancient druidic ritual—is captured on film for the first time; over 5,000 sweaty, gyrating bodies, plus glimpses of onstage sex acts involving hot candle wax, dildos, a double fisting, fantabulous nightclub performers, and further hard-core fetishes.

The Saint at Large, the production company that is behind both the film and the party, will be premiering the film in gay nightclubs across country through mid summer, beginning with Los Angeles and followed by San Francisco, Washington, D.C., Atlanta, Philadelphia, Montreal, and New York. A Lord of the (Cock) Rings meets Tom of Finland (while set to a thumping house beat), Schwarzwald is indeed the movie you can dance to, and quite a bit more.

The film's trailer can be viewed at SaintAtLarge.com.

May The Fierce Be With You

May The Fierce Be With You

This essay originaly appeared in IN L.A. MAGAZINE May 2007

What's gay about Star Wars? With the 30th anniversary approaching, we look at the iconic film series with a queer eye.

By Mike Diamond

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away (Long Island, circa 1980), I was a homo-in-training with a thing for Star Wars. The movies appealed to me with their fantastical locales and exciting characters, allowing me to escape the boredom of my suburban childhood existence. I collected anything and everything Star Wars — action figures, books, candy — with an attention to detail that would serve me well during my later obsessions with skin care products, pharmaceutical drugs and married men.

But why Star Wars? Was there something inherent in these epic space movies that spoke to my inner gay boy? Perhaps it was the lightsabers, the most phallic of weapons. Could have been the Rebel's X-wing fighter spaceships, which look very much like penises. Was it little green Yoda, who reminded me of every crusty 80-year-old dyke I would encounter in my life?

The year 2007 marks the 30th anniversary of the release of the original Star Wars film, an appropriate time to look at these legendary cinematic creations with my jaundiced eye, and see how they put the "out" in outer space. Luke Skywalker is the focus of the first three films, and has always struck me as a big closet queen. The way he gloms onto Ben "Obi Wan" Kenobi; was Luke seeking the wisdom of a sage mentor, or aching to be a blond boy toy for that dirty old man? And all that bogus lusting after Princess Leia—child please, only a closeted homo would have a crush on their sister. The big giveaway is Luke's drama with Darth Vader; what gay boy doesn't have Daddy issues? True, most of us don't have Daddy Dearest chop our hands off in the heat of a laser sword duel, but I for one have spent many an evening trying to resolve my Daddy issues with passive aggressive strangers with big pecs.

Speaking of Vader — was he not the biggest leather queen ever? Those shiny black boots, the leather gloves — this dude was just waiting to get some hottie in a zero-gravity sling. And those leather pants of his — for all we know they were assless chaps, but that damn cape was always in the way. That scary black mask was the ultimate sadistic accessory — can't you see him at your neighborhood leather bar with half-naked leather boys groveling at his feet? Master Jedi indeed! There was that S&M scene in The Empire Strikes Back, where Vader has Han Solo strapped to an electro-torture device; if that ain't kinky, honey, I don't know what is.

I always loved Han Solo, tight-panted space stud. Harrison Ford never looked sexier, with his tousled hair and curled upper lip. I used to fantasize about being his chair on the Millenium Falcon. Think about it. Of course, he was destined to hook up with Princess Leia, interplanetary feminist, coke whore and 1970s fashion icon. Nobody worked a pair of cinnamon bun hairpieces like Miss Leia. I'm sure Chewbacca was jealous of Han and Leia's relationship; I saw the way his eyes lit up whenever Han "entered the cockpit." Chewbacca, that hairy beast, inspired legions of bears to be. Even little gay boys with furry futures need a role model! You won't find any hot wax on his home planet. Would that make the Ewoks bear cubs? Food for thought. Quite frankly, I think Lando Calrissian also had the hots for Han; it would not surprise me one bit if Mr. Cloud City was on "the downlow." Please, the man wears a blue cape.

Many of the locations in the Star Wars universe reek of same-sex love. The Cantina on Tatooine? Honey, it's just a gay bar without the go-go boys. Watch that scene again and look closely; I swear some of those creatures are grinding their teeth, and at least one is wearing nipple clamps. The Death Star sounds like the hottest after-hours club in the galaxy; I hear the door scene is intense.

The later trilogy of films also had its share of rainbow flag elements. Episode II's official title was Attack of the Clones. Sounds like any Friday night in West Hollywood, right? What's up with that annoying Jar-Jar Binks? All that jive talking and long, ponytail like ears flopping around, he strikes me as an amphibious reggae queen. Maybe that's the hot thing to be in outer space. It's like the lesbian chic without the lipstick. As for Queen Amidala—my Lord, who does her hair? Some interplanetary drag queen took one look at her and thought "The Galaxy's Next Top Freaky Hair Model." In some scenes the poor dear is wearing 50 pounds of Wookie hair extensions teased up into a Memoirs of a Space Geisha 'do; in others she's rocking a braided "Swiss Miss on space crack" style. No wonder she couldn't see that Anakin Skywalker had some serious psychological issues; all those hair products probably gave her migraines.

That Anakin was quite delicious in Episodes II and III; in the first, he was just an annoying little brat who deserved to be a slave on Watto's desert plantation. But when he grew up- delicious! Sculpted abs, his own ride, rageaholic issues— everything I look for in a man! I suspect there was some sexual chemistry between him and Obi Wan, with all that "Master" and "My young apprentice" dialogue. Like Tracy and Hepburn, but without the humor and intellect. Still, I could just picture Obi Wan, played by the tasty Ewan McGegor, putting Anakin over his knee for a little "Master to Padawan" discipline. Jedi training indeed! You know that would so piss off the Emperor—now there's a bitter old queen who doesn't understand boundaries.

Of course, no discussion of the gayness of Star Wars would be complete without paying homage to C-3PO, my first gay role model. "3PO" as his homies called him, was a robotic nervous Nellie and a total flamer. He was fluent in over 6 million forms of communication (queens are so chatty); he inexplicably spoke with a clipped British accent (and we know all those Brits are nancy boys); he enjoyed a good dip in an oil bath (what self respecting homo doesn't like a good manscaping every now and then?). It was so obvious; Princess Leia was his fag hag and R2-D2 was his android fuck buddy. R2 was obviously the top—those short ones always have something to prove.

SPRING TUNE UP

From HX Magazine Issue #815

SPRING TUNE UP
By Mike Diamond

Inventive alternatives to shedding that winter weight

Shirtless weather is just around the corner, but don't worry if you're still packing on those extra holiday pounds. Sure, you can—and should—invest in and actually use a membership to an upscale, fashionable workout facility like Club H Fitness (clubhfitness.com) or David Barton Gym (davidbartongym.com), and you'd definitely be wise to contact the experts at Further Fitness (furtherfitness.com), NYC's premier personal training company. But the city offers plenty of other fun and interesting ways to whip that bod back into porn star hot shape. Now drop that Krispy Kreme, 'cause the clock's ticking!

First things first—and forgive us if we sound preachy—but before you target those abs, you might want to consider the bigger picture of personal health and log onto hivinfosource.org, an online guide dedicated to keeping you informed about the NYU School of Medicine Center For AIDS Research's latest HIV treatment and prevention options.

Once you've got peace of mind, focus on the body— starting, of course, with your booty. Tighten up the tush with African Dance classes at the Djoniba Dance and Drum Centre (djoniba.com), including Tribal Belly Dance and Afro-Brazilian. With more than 40 classes a week, many with live drummers, the Centre accommodates everyone from beginners to professionals. "If you can walk, you can dance," says founder Joneeba Mouflet.

For Star Wars fagnatics, may the fierce be with you at Light Saber lessons, organized by the New York Jedi (nyjedi.com). The classes instruct students in stage combat through martial arts, mental focus and living at your parents' house until you're 30.
Seriously, this is an intensive workout, as Jedis in training are instructed in swordplay maneuvers and taught how to do a handstand while balancing Yoda on their foot. Bring a saber or stick and comfortable workout clothes; Princess Leia buns optional.

Become a high-flying homo at Trapeze School New York (newyork.trapezeschool.com). Daredevils and carnies alike will enjoy getting into shape with a mid-air workout at Hudson River Park. Beginners learn feats like take off, basic knee hang and splits, while sky boys in the advanced level will master technical tricks like the double somersault.

Yoga is still hot, and not just because Madonna's bony ass does it. Aaron Star's Hot Nude Yoga classes (hotnudeyoga.com) offer quality yogic instruction and a little something extra. Stretch, flex and embark on a journey of the spirit freed from the constraints of clothing. The deliciously fit and attractive teachers of HNY bring a wealth of knowledge and experience from various yoga backgrounds. Plus, you're in a room of naked hotties bent over backwards! If you're too shy for that, check out Joschi Yoga (Joschinyc.com), though it does offer a very physical and masculine vinyasa yoga class called yoga4men.

If you're the outdoorsy type, head on over to the Chelsea Piers (chelseapiers.com) for some kayaking. Take in Manhattan's skyline while riding the waters of the Hudson for an invigorating total body workout. In conjunction with Manhattan Kayak Company, the Chelsea Piers kayaking program ranges from basic stroke technique workshops to day-long tours. Grab your sunblock and your stamina and experience the thrill of paddling —outside of a sex club!

With this many creative choices, getting ready for swimsuit season should be a snap. After all, to quote The Facts of Life's Blair Warner, circa 1983, "Take care of your body, and someone else will take care of you."