We get it, people are bored with Europe. Oh, that crazy character from the Greek Syriza party who labeled himself “anti-bailout” was good copy, and making fun of Europeans’ August-long vacations is always fun. But the daily grind from rising sovereign borrowing costs to rescue negotiations and central bank intervention—how long Read More
Despite great sales thanks to Fifty Shades of Grey, Trojan hit a bump yesterday in New York City when police raided its Flatiron hot-dog-vendor-like carts that were handing out free vibrators. Apparently it didn’t have the right NYC permits for handing out vibrators rather than wieners.
But not to fear, citizens of Manhattan! You still have time to pick up your free sex products from a totally sanitary cart this evening!
The Mysteries of Brooklyn
Sex never ceases to inspire. The controversial 1897 play Reichen, by the equally maligned and admired Austrian writer Arthur Schnitzler, is a tango of seduction and interconnected sexual encounters between five sets of lovers in the sack, each one of whom has sex twice. It has been adapted many times—most famously in Max Ophuls’s 1950 French film La Ronde, most recently as the Lincoln Center musical Hello, Again in 1994. An updated rewrite by David Hare called The Blue Room opened on Broadway in 1998 with Nicole Kidman in a highly publicized nude scene that had ticket buyers standing in line for hours to secure seats with unrestricted views. Well, brace yourself. It’s back again, this time as 30 Beats—a low-budget independent film by first-time writer-director Alexis Lloyd that is about as sexy as a stale noodle kugel.
While its unforgiving Sultan mattresses do not stir wild desire in most people, apparently Brooklyn teenagers find the metal chaise lounges outside Ikea to be an ideal setting for sexual encounters, DNAinfo reports.
Hey, they’re probably more comfortable than those dreadful particle board beds the store sells!
On a recent Tuesday afternoon at the mothers’ yoga group I frequent in Park Slope, the conversation turned to sex. There we were, a dozen women in stretchy pants and nursing bras, surrounded by sippy cups and teething rings, our cleavage a collective graveyard of stale Cheerio detritus—naturally, we were in the mood.
As rock musicals go, Rock of Ages can’t go fast enough. This sloppy freak show is two minutes shy of two solid hours of screaming swill, without a shred of freshness, insight, cleverness or coherence to be detected within a two-mile radius. It’s based on a noisy Broadway jukebox joke that was never much to write home about in the first place, but it still had a soupçon of humor and banal charm, both of which are bewilderingly missing on the screen. The fact that the show is still running testifies to the confounding disregard for taste and intelligence rampant among today’s mass-market audiences. I haven’t seen a movie this bad since Battlefield Earth and Howard the Duck.
KINKY SEX AND THE CITY
Aggregator extraordinaire Matt Drudge briefly linked to Gawker’s story that alleged ABC’s Robin Roberts “wasn’t enthusiastic” about landing her big gay marriage interview with President Obama because she was worried it would call attention to the “near-open secret that Roberts is a lesbian” this afternoon and the site took the opportunity to taunt him with an update.
“Internet behemoth Matt Drudge, who has just directed his readers to this post, is also commonly understood to be gay,” the update said.
Ah, yes: Fifty Shades of Grey, the porn-y erotic fiction book that has swept the nation, sending it into feverish bouts of…reading erotic fiction. If you haven’t heard of it by now, you either don’t take the subway enough, or don’t pay attention to what people on the subway are reading, or don’t have enough horny friends who also enjoy the occasional bestseller. Either way, it’s a sexy about sex between a college student and an international business magnate. And now you can act it out! It’s like those real-life games of Quiddich, but instead of playing magical soccer with brooms, people are having sex with whips.
The Forbidden Trance
Directed by Mary Harron, who picks unusual subjects (American Psycho, I Shot Andy Warhol and The Notorious Bettie Page) and follows through with drive, focus and a relentless devotion to drawing fine lines between the real and the imaginary, The Moth Diaries is a horror film with a difference. It exudes more emotional intensity than mere things that jump out of closets and go bump in the night.
The setting is Brangwyn College, a former hotel turned into an elite boarding school for proper young ladies, in the middle of a forest where weird things are happening among the mushrooms and moss vines.
Emily, a 24-year-old burlesque dancer with creamy skin and dark curly hair was at a party in Manhattan a few summers back when she lost her vagina. It was a worrisome feeling. She ran around the crowded loft frantically looking under bags and coats yelling, “I’ve lost my vagina!”
“Where did you see it last?” asked one friend with a laugh.
“Do you have insurance on it?” wondered another.