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18 NYC Relationships 22 El Santo 28 When Being Nice Fails 32 $100,000 Affair 36 Keep It Sacred 44 Young Lovers 52 Broken Hearts Club 56 Jonathan Levine Speaks on Love 60 Arab Love 64 Five Things 66 Sexy Body Parts 69 Love Potion #10 72 How To Kill The Mood 74 Love Is Brawl 84 Leave It To Beaner 86 Phone Sex 92 Prince Paul on Heartache 102 Songs For The Lonely... 106 Harold Hunter 119 Weight Loss for the Mind In the Clouds 158 Holistic Mother 164 I Wanna Be A Stunt Car Driver


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Words + Illustration Daze New York is a strange place to look for and find love. I’m sure I’m not saying anything that many already don’t know but this city is such an insane conglomeration of personalities from all over the country and all over the world, that many have a hard time finding “the one”. If that shit even exists. Such diversity within one city is something about this place that you can applaud but in a weird way it also makes things more difficult. New york is the type of place where it’s all about choices. Other cities wait for things to jump off which, if they’re lucky, happen on a monthly basis. Here on any given day or night tons of things happen. Therefore one is forced to make decisions. The same can be said for relationships here. Because their are so many people from all over the place, here it’s very difficult to focus on “the

one”, because another “one” may be right around the corner. What am I Dr. Ruth ? I hope not. I’ll tell you what though, New York is one city that can and will break your heart in half and hand you the pieces, that’s for sure! Just when you think you’ve found the best piece in the world... Boom!! Reality check! You discover that person has several other “persons” on the side and suddenly you’re left feeling like the last man standing. Don’t sleep! This can and will happen to you if you let it! Still I love being here. It’s the only place in the world for me that I can leave my house and fall in love at least 12 times before making it to the subway, especially during the summer! all the best, Dazeworld


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Words Ricardo Martinez Images Courtesy of David Wilt The Best Wrestling Lover Say it with me now: Masked, Badass, Mexican. His name is El Santo, the guy in the silver mask (el Enmascarado de Plato) and he’s not only THE most famous Mexican Wrestler ever, but he’s also the sexiest man New York women have never seen. What lady in her right mind would turn down a 195 pound Latin badass? Don’t let the mask stop you, we’ve all done something kinky before, and some of us out there have even liked it. I’m not sayin you’ve all hiked up your skirt on the F train before, but there’s definitely a lady or two I’ve known who has enjoyed sex with a little mystery. And as far as costumes go, it’s a no brainer. Everybody likes dressing up a certain way for that extra spark in their mojo. El Santo somehow managed to par-

lay his brand of pimpin’ into a career. His obsession with wrestling became a love of fighting for what was right. One that lasted his lifetime and when it stopped so too did he. El Santo was nothing typical, ladies, he was quite simply a cultural phenomenon. In a time when Mexican pop culture was missing it’s own Batman or Dick Tracy, El Santo was a Mexican version of a big dude (big by Mexican standards, he was 5’9”) fighting for good. In a country as convoluted and complicated as Mexico, the key to Santo’s popularity was his symbolism as a fighter for justice. Though beautiful in stature El Santo only looked nice, he was a “crudo”, a dirty fighter, in the ring. The combination of fly clothes and sho’ nuff ass whoopins has long done well to arouse many a woman’s appetite. El Santo’s career exploded at exactly the right time and place in an almost simultaneous public climax. Lucha Libre, the wrestling federation in Mexico, very


similar to America’s World Wrestling Entertainment, rose to popularity mostly because of guys like El Santo. Within two years of donning his silver mask, El Santo became a cultural phenomenon. His 48 year career included 52 films, 11 championship belts, a successful comic book line, and an action figure deal with a major Mexican toy company. All this hardcore pimpin’ came at a time before multi-entreprenurial celebrities like 50 Cent and J.LO were even around to complain about. Crucial to the mystery selling the man was that El Santo never took his mask off, even in public. Though the women begged and pleaded, Santo realized the center of his potency was his secret identity and in 48 years of wrestling he was never photographed without the upstairs jimmy hat. He would often wear two masks during fights, take secret airline flights, and made a mask with a chinstrap so he could eat with it on and still be photographed at dinner parties. Now ladies, how awesome are you looking, showing up at a black tie affair with your man wearing a wrestling mask? This was no sissy actor playing Santo, this was a man who became the character. How’s that for method acting? Now I must address the sexual prowess of one Señor Santo. Not as a former lover, but as a simple hetero dude, man enough to admit that the spirit of El Santo was one of strength, passion, and of course shining silver spectacle. We should all hope to be as astonishing a giver as what this man gave every time he got in the ring. El Santo was a Man’s Man. An obvious

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dedicated lover. Focused on his partner, he takes what he wants, albeit with agility. With a subtle fetishness, Santo likes his women as women. Don’t worry, he’s the type of man that would jump through a window for you, hell, he does that anyway for fun. There are people out there who just exude who they are, it pours out of their skin in pints. We smell it in the air, and approach, thirsty. Sometimes you can’t control the intensity of your mojo and who wants you. When was the last time you had great sex that was politely organized and asked for? Nothing turns me off more than someone asking for permission, that kind of stuff you just have to take. Santo was a nimble taker, working with a love for performance and exhibitionism that few can understand let alone do. At 65, after his fourth Farewell Match, El Santo acknowledged his deteriorating body and went into retirement in 1982. In 1984 El Santo appeared on the Mexican talk show Contrapunto and unexpectedly unmasked for the first time publicly on national TV. He was 67 and underneath the mask was Rudolfo Guzman Huerta, a simple worn old man. El Santo was el corazon de vida for the man named Rudolfo and without this persona he had no more energy for life. Guzman died two weeks later of a heart attack. However, his son is still around ladies, and he has a successful career wrestling as El Hijo Del Santo. Which just goes to show, true love, will always find a way to carry on.


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Words + Photo + Illustration el Stupido Man, wow, she looks amazing, those legs, that style, her scent, she’s everything a man wants. Even feels better than I imagine, her sitting on my lap. Oh my god, she’s kissing me. This kind of flirting is priceless, and her lips are so nice. Damn, those gem stone eyes, I could get lost in there if I’m not careful. I feel like a monster compared to her – big feet, big head, sandpaper face, black bean eyes. So this is where it gets tricky, I’m feeling this girl and want to treat her like the princess that she is, but she’s got a million guys on the jock and she tells me about it, “this guy tried to grope me at dinner the other night, gross.” This type of thing is the regular when you’re awkwardly cute. Trust me, I know.


I mean, I can be just as snobby as the next girl if I want, but I do have to go with my heart sometimes. You can’t have your guard up all the time. But the liquor and the way she smiled got me. And she’s an insomniac too. Damn, perfect. Everything she says, I understand, and on top of it she’s good friends with one of my acquaintances. We both go back to my house, right off the bat, not even five minutes, and we are tearing each others clothes off. This is how it feels to be on cloud 9, or outer space or something. She feels like a smoothie after a five day binger. I hold her, she holds me tighter against her, so that we almost mold into one. Her shoulders and butt fit perfectly into mine, she says something about puzzle pieces, as she gives me foot cuddles. The liquor, pills, and my chemical imbalance has me pouring out my heart, at this point talking about intimate “shrink” stuff. She lets me in too. Jesus Christ has blessed me directly, we had communion all night. Wake up, attack again. She misses her classes and I miss my meeting, peace to that shit I can reschedule. Damn, I didn’t even know this girl liked me like that, and was kind of mental like me. At this point, I know that’s all it is – one night of fun. I don’t want to get attached. I don’t want to be like those other dudes that she talked to me about. Yeah, she’s irresistible, but I’m immune to this, always being surrounded by beautiful women has turned me into one. For Christ’s sake, this chick would drop me at any second, and I would drop her to if I had to protect myself.

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Now I can’t even call her for awhile and tell her whats running through my mind, I’m a cuckoo too, and thanks to text messaging has exposed me. Crazy right? But who wants someone that is easy to obtain, a little challenge is always good. I know this from years of relationships, and from living with catty girls who tell me stories about guys they broke down like old beach chairs. Women are ruthless. Men are dogs. It occurred to me at this point that she would be perfect to write this article, this one you’re reading right now. So I called her and I tried to ask her to write this article about how girls don’t like it when guys are too nice. I thought I would be hooking her up by getting her published. By asking her write this article, it put me in the same category as all those other dudes who were sweating her. Damn, I thought we were both insomniac crazy writers, but I guess not. And there is no use in explaining yourself after reaching a certain point. Why is it when you’re nice to a girl, she mistakes kindness for weakness? Excuses are like karma, the same excuses that she was giving me, I was giving other girls. Every time I called her to hang out it was another excuse. She’s good, like me. So I figured I would take it to the extreme and see just how nice was too nice. I decided to give her the ultimate weirdo freak out present – I gave her a ring at a crowded club while I was drunk. Right after I went to the bar and took a shot, damn I knew I had just played myself out, committed dating suicide. Now I knew how Bukowski felt. After this I knew what was com-


ing. All the excuses I had conjured up in my head were coming, all the stares, everything. The next day I saw her out again, I didn’t even pay attention to her and she noticed. She asked “are you trying to be mean to me?” Then I was nice, “no, hello you want to dance”. The minute I was nice to her, she walked away and ignored me again. Randomly, at the end of the night, at the corner store,

we spotted each other. She was nice, then I was mean, I was nice, and then she was mean. We continued to play the game until. Then she jumped on me and wrapped her legs around me. We made out for a while. Then we stopped kissing, she looked at me and said “I hate you.” I said, “I hate you too.” We walked away and haven’t spoken since, except for that fucking text.


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Words Conrad Dornan Illustration Haculla Girls, since the beginning of time, have held a certain power over men. The power of persuasion via their own personal, and, albeit predominantly physical, attributes. How many men out there have done something stupid because a girl asked them to? At times they don’t even have to ask, men just do stupid shit thinking it might impress a lady. I myself have personally flown half way around the world simply to see a girl because she asked me to. Shit, I’m in fucking beauty school right now because my (very recently) ex-girlfriend thought it would be a good fucking field of study for me… I fucking hate hair. I don’t even know what the fuck to do with my own, let alone the rest of the fucking world’s. And why? Because she has tits, an ass, a pair of eyes to die for and fucks like there is no tomorrow? And for that, I sold myself to the fucking Aveda Institute because SHE thought it was a good idea. Now, before I go off on my own pissed off tangent and since we are on the subject of the power pussy holds over mankind, let me happily introduce my guest, the gold medalist of making men do stupid shit, Ms. Jane Dough.


For this EZ Lovers Issue I intend to tackle the question that losers that can’t get laid have been asking girls for years. How much would I have to pay a girl to fuck me?

legal and socially relevant questions, let’s get down to what people really want to know. How was the sex? Jane Dough: God! It was shitty, probably the worst sex I’ve ever had, the guy came in like two minutes.

One girl’s answer: $100,000 Her name I will keep anonymous, we’ll just call her “Jane Dough”, her occupation: massage therapist. Jane is beautiful. She is 26 years old and banging. The kind of girl you see on the street and go “Daaaaaayyyyum”. Or think is out of your league at a bar until you’ve had about nine Pabsts. This is the girl that strings dudes along for free dinners and expensive jewelry and gets whatever she wants without even throwing ‘em a bone (unless you have the right price). She comes from a good family out west, upper middle class, mom was a school teacher, dad owns a fairly well known franchise of hardware stores, Christian upbringing, you know, the works. She is a college graduate, a dancer, and an actress. She moved to NY three years ago to pursue her career and started parttiming as a massage therapist, well to be fair, she did massage men in her underwear. Now why would she decide to become a hooker at this stage of her life? Doesn’t she have everything going for her? Doesn’t she have enough money? Is she on drugs? Is she a sex addict? Well, I was fortunate enough to sit down with this bird and ask her a few questions, let’s find out. And all you losers out there with 100 grand get a pen and start taking notes. Frank151: Foregoing all of the moral,

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F151: Were you seeing dollar signs the whole time? JD: I was just trying to get it over with, I was mad at my boyfriend, I don’t really remember… F151: You loved that shit. JD: What? F151: So, cash, money order, personal check, credit card…what do you take? JD: I don’t “take” anything. He paid in cash, upfront. F151: What’s $100,000 in cash look like? JD: Pretty and green. F151: So who was the trick? Was he a random or did you guys already have some form of a relationship established? JD: He is a stockbroker out of Miami. He started as a massage client of mine when I was working with this erotic massage company here in Manhattan. He booked appointments with me every time he was in the city, and had always offered me more money to have sex, it was kind of pathetic. But if he’s dumb enough to pay it… F151: So he offered you 100 grand and you were just like “lets do this” and blazed him? How did this work exactly? JD: No. Like I said, he had been offering for a while and I always said no


because he is kind of gross and I had a boyfriend and stuff. Anyway, he kept offering and told me to call him if I ever changed my mind. Finally, I found out that my fucking boyfriend had been cheating on me with some ghetto bitch from Harlem, and had been doing so for like a year…aaaaahhh! I fucking hate him. So that was it. I called this guy up and was like, “do you still want me?” He said “yes”. So I was like, “I’ll do it for 100 grand.” That night he flew up from Miami and I met him at The Hyatt.

friends would be giving him a high five.

F151: And then he banged you out? JD: Well… yeah, I guess… I made him give me the money first, then I fucked him for like 2 minutes, he came and I left... left rich.

Well, for all you stock brokers out there who can’t get laid, keep pounding Wall Street and with enough cash you could be pounding a Jane Dough.

F151: What did you do with the money? Buy smack? Hair products? Make investments? Gucci? JD: Well I saved most of it. I went to Europe, mostly just saved it. F151: Do you plan on using any of it for therapy? JD: I am 100% secure with what I did. F151: I mean do you feel hollow inside, or do you feel like you got away with a bank robbery? JD: I don’t feel anything. It was four minutes of my life and I got $100,000 not really a big deal. F151: Not a big deal if your morals aren’t intact. You don’t feel, you know, like a whore? JD: No, I feel rich. F151: Not even a little bit? JD: NO! I did what I did that’s it! People do it all the time. If a man did it all his

F151: Whatever you got to tell yourself I guess huh? JD: How much money do you have in your bank? F151: Around a grand….would you do it again, for less? JD: God… F151: I’ll bang you for five bucks. JD: (Hangs up phone.)


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Words + Illustration BIGFOOT What makes the world go round? Music and getting attention from the female human race. I’m fucking girl crazy… the wandering eyes of Bigfoot. Dream girls… A sorceress from the forest… sent from Mother Nature to rescue me from the darkness of the human city… I’m kinda in love right now… I’m always in love with Elvira, The Runaways’ Joan Jett, Lita Ford, Suzi Quatro, you remember the Flash Gordon movies with the Queen soundtrack? Ming the Merciless’ daughter in that shit... damn... the first catwoman from the Batman TV show. It’s hard being in love, but still being girl crazy... life is kinda about girl watching... just wanna see a hot girl to inspire me... I’m a sucker for chicks in leg warmers, furry boots, stockings, tall socks, all kinds of boots, heels, pumps. I wish girls in general had longer hair these days, but I’m all about chicks with feathered hair... When I ain’t got a girl to hang out with I put on a record and hump the bass speaker.


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Sativa: Young Lover Extraordinaire Sativa is an 11 year old EZ Lover. We sat down to chop it up with him, and hear about love from a fresh, untainted perspective. The funny thing is I know a few grown men who could learn a thing or two from this young lover. Frank151: Have you had a girlfriend? Sativa: Yes. I’ve had nine. F151: What’s your secret to getting girls? S: Be yourself. Don’t try to act like someone you’re not. Sometimes girls like the smart people, so act smart. And don’t try to talk too much about how good she looks. You can talk about it, but not too much. If you do that, they think all you want to do is kiss them and hug them, and show them off to other people.

F151: How do you let a girl know you are interested? S: Really there is no way. If you’re interested in her, make sure she’s interested in you. Because if not you’ll get embarrassed in front of the other kids. They’ll make fun of you, and say “you got played by a girl”. F151: Do you have any lines you use? S: If you tell a girl a line, she will think you’re corny. A lot of men do that to get the girls and try to win them over. F151: What’s a good date to take a girl out on? S: Really to your house, so she can meet your parents. If she’s rude, don’t take her home; take her to a nice quiet Japanese restaurant. F151: Is how you look important? S: That is important, if a girl looks at you and sees that your clothes are all ripped up and stuff, she will see that you’re coming from a bad environment. You should dress like, wear a lot of name brand stuff, and don’t wear a lot of baggy clothes, it’s too thick, she might think you’re fat and stuff. F151: How do you know if it’s the right time to kiss a girl? S: The right time is when you know her, and know her family. If you’re only like two weeks into the relationship, that’s too soon. You should wait two or three months to see how things are going. If

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you’re thinking of playing her, that’s not cool. If you’re thinking of getting other ladies, they will see how you treated that girl. You’ll get a bad reputation. F151: How do you look cool? S:You’ve got to rub your hands together, and lick your lips. But not too much because then she will think you are an LL Cool J impersonator. F151: How do you break up with a girl? S: Don’t have your friends go and tell her. Just walk straight up to her and look her in her face and tell her “this relationship isn’t going well. I don’t see

it going much further. So I would like to break up, but that doesn’t mean we still can’t be friends.” F151: Anything else? S: Let me think if there is any stupid stuff I did when I was new to the game. Don’t do stupid stuff, like curse her out, or hang out with the bad kids when you know you’re good. Don’t disrespect her or her body. Oh yeah, and when you have conversations with her don’t always talk about yourself or her. Talk about current events and what’s going on in the world. Yeah, girls like that.


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But I’ll Be Just Okay Try, try, try, Try, try, it on Try, try, try Can’t try, its gone. If you haven’t got your heart broken, then give me a call. Sometimes you gotta lose to win.


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Words + Photo Jonathan LeVine I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve had quite a few bad sexual experiences. My sex life has always been like a visit to Basking Robbins - I want to try all 52 flavors. Some of them are going to be delicious and others are going to be disgusting. But it is the responsibility of every red-blooded young man to sample all the delights that are presented to him: the dark chocolates, the sweet vanillas, the tart strawberries, the splits, the sundaes, the works. Unfortunately, sometimes sex, even with a cherry on top, is the pits. One sexual encounter in particular stands out in my memory as a glaring shame. It was late summer, 1998, and I was having a couple of drinks with my friend Dennis at a dive in the East Village called Mars Bar. To know this watering hole is to know that it is one of New York’s most squalid and filthy. Even

today, after all the gentrification the neighborhood has undergone, Mars Bar maintains its nauseating standards - just the place to meet a hipster honey who’s aching for some lovin’. I started chatting up this chick in her mid twenties who, for all intents and purposes, seemed totally out of her element. She said had just come from the Boss Hog show at the Mercury Lounge, but she didn’t look like a rocker at all. She looked like a cross between Ellen Barken and Michelle Pfeiffer, dressed very well, and held herself like an office girl. She struck me as someone who had her shit together. We spent a few hours absorbed in intelligent conversation and downed way too many drinks. The evening started to wind down and she asked for my number to see if I wanted to get together again.


At the time I was living and hour and a half away in Trenton, NJ. For as enjoyable as this girl was, I had no desire to start a long distance relationship. I did, however, want to get laid. Badly. So I pulled my drunken, slurring self together and blurted “I know this is kind of ballsy, but would you take me home with you?” She looked at me silently for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she said simply, “Okay, Let’s go.” We quickly left the bar, hopped into my car and drove to her apartment in some far-flung neighborhood in Queens. There was some heavy smooching in the car and a little feel here and there walking up the stairs to her apartment. Everything was going swell. That is until she opened the door to her apartment from hell. She lived in a cramped railroad apartment that looked like dumpster had been overturned inside. It had the distinct stench of the Fresh Kills landfill. There was shit everywhere; garbage stacked knee high, pungent piles of unknown material on every horizontal surface. The most repulsive sight had to be the pair of discarded underwear on the floor with a tampon laying in it. I immediately thought the chick must be berserk and I should have bailed right then - jumped right out the window and ran the hell home to Jersey. But there I was, drunk, horny and lost in Queens at 4 AM. Based on the way this girl looked and spoke, the condition of the place was definitely not what I expected. She sat me down on her couch that was sticky and wet with some kind of mystery moisture and served me a Bloody Mary in a plastic cup. Did I mention I was drunk and

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horny? After a few minutes of sloppy making out she ushered me into her bedroom. Her bed was piled two feet high with clothes that she shoveled onto the floor. Never one to give up on a sure thing, I forged on. We finally started getting it on. She was pretty acrobatic and open with her positions. I was hitting’ it doggy style and figured if she was letting me seal the deal from the rear, then she’d dig it if I started talking nasty to her. I was just about to finish when I said to her “Yeah, you’re a dirty little bitch aren’t you?” I meant that both figuratively and literally. Big mistake. She stopped the action dead cold. She didn’t like my commentary at all. She turned around with the meanest scowl on her face and started walloping me with her pillow. She angrily mumbled something and proceeded to stomp off through the apartment waving her arms and tossing her head. I thought for sure a Glenn Close moment was coming and she was coming back into the bedroom with a giant, murderous knife. Instead, she marched back, crawled back into the bed, hogged all the covers and left me with just a corner of the sheet to hold on to. I barely had enough to keep my left nipple warm. And, of course, she snored like a sea monster coming up for air. Four hours later I was sober enough to creep out of the house. I managed to find my car and my way out of Queens. The lesson I learned from this experience? No matter how luscious the desert may appear, don’t sample the flavors at Mars Bar.


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Words Mohammad Dagman Bootleg Tapes Thurrayyah Westerners know almost nothing about love in the Arab world. The Arab world is the 22 member countries in the Arab League. Except for Lebanon, the majority are Muslims. In some Arabic countries, like Saudi Arabia and Sudan, Islam is more dominant in everyday life. It is institutionalized and “Muslim” laws govern life. In others, like Syria and Lebanon, more liberal views are dominant and all of that reflects on your life, and of course on love. Most think the area is way too violent, that there is no room for love in a place where hostility is the order of the day. It may seem odd, but romance is supreme in a very violent place. Wa-Marrat al-Ayam (The Days Have Passed)

With all of the diversity within the different Arab countries meet Umm Kulthum (1904-1975), a unifying love factor. The Egyptian singer’s legacy lives on today as the Arab world’s greatest love singer of all time. In the Arab world, Umm Kulthum has probably sold more music than the Rolling Stones and the Beatles combined. She still continues to move millions of units throughout the world. Umm Kulthum was born in 1904, while Egypt was under the foreign rule of the descendants of Mohammad Ali, which ruled until the Revolution in 1952. She first learned how to sing from her father, a local figure in her village mosque, who taught her songs from the Muslim Tawashih. When Umm, his youngest daughter, began making money at an early age, the whole family moved to Cairo in 1923, where she became even more successful and connected with the rich elite. She switched her band and soon became her own manager, connecting with the biggest names in the Arab world. The legendary Mohammad Abd al-Wahhab made 10 songs with her, and she sang the poetry of Ahmad Shawki, Ahmad Rami and many others. Riad al-Sonbati, Baligh Hamdi and many more composed her scores. Her work sold steadily, and to this day she is still the most listened to Arabic singer ever.


In my life, Umm Kulthum provided the soundtrack for one of my earliest encounters with sex and love. I grew up in Syria, which was a blessing for a person like me, because the place is very diverse, which made it more open and liberal in many ways. You can see women in bikinis in real life and on the screen, something that is totally different from other states like Saudia Arabia, a country which is like the South’s Bible Belt times 1000, where the police actually make sure men and women do not mingle.

A-Ghaddan Alqak (Do I Meet You Tomorrow?)

Nonetheless, living in Syria still put many obstacles in the way of my quests for love, which made it hard for a young and horny man like me to get girls. My parents were not the richest, and I was not the biggest or the strongest, so getting the girls that I had crushes on was hard. On top of that, my older brother and protector, Bassam, left the house to go to college when I was in middle school. He used to get a lot of

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action and I was permitted to watch. My brother would leave the blinds on the balcony cracked open; we would hop from one balcony to another in order to peak thru the window to see Bassam kissing the girls he would bring home while my mother was away. I, however, still did not get any action until much later as I started to grow taller. Sex was on my mind more than love, since I started knowing its effects on me. For me, I wanted to touch and feel women, or at least watch them. One day, my best friend Samer came to me and said that a prostitute had moved into the building next door. My mother had announced the night before that she thought something fishy was taking place, she said too many men were entering and leaving the place. My mother was the best detective, and I made my first trip to our roof to look through the windows of our neighbors’. This was something I used to do with Samer when my first crush lived over there. I would go to that roof over and over again, and then one day I saw her mom naked. I knew of an angle that enabled me to see through one of their windows that they kept open at most times. They must have thought that no one would be on the roof, especially at night, but what did they know? I had scouted that location many times and was ready to find out if this woman really was a prostitute. As I laid down on the edge of the roof, I peered down and in through her window, she was sitting with some clothes on, but not that many, and smoking the hookah. The man that was supposed to be her husband was in his underwear smoking from his own hookah. She was


listening to one of my favorite songs, Ana fi Intizarak (I am waiting for you), a great love song by Umm Kulthum. In this song she starts by saying “While waiting for you I left my fire inside my ribs and laid my hand on my cheek and counted the seconds since you’ve been gone, oh I wish I was never in love.” That night, the prostitute and her pimp were smoking and listening silently to the “Star of the East” sing the same song I just mentioned. I went back home and my sisters and mother were listening to the same song on the radio. I wanted to shut it down but did not. I called my friend who told me about the prostitute and confirmed to him, I lied, that I saw a man going down on her while her pimp watched. The next day at school everyone asked me to tell the story a hundred times. My friend decided to go and visit her. He was a virgin, of course. I think that all of us were.

because all of them wanted to listen to what I would say. The scary thing is that I started believing what I was telling them. The pimp found out about me and my friends; as they say, loose lips sink ships. He decided to take action. He first tried to scare us through looks, but that did not work with us since everyone does the same in that part of the world. His action brought his demise, because one day he chased us to where our cousins and the older guys were hanging out and they beat him bad. The police came

We waited for him at the corner deli. It did not take him too long. I remember it cost him 150 liras, which was around three dollars. He was gone 10 minutes. He came back pumped as a rooster and told us that he was inside of her for a minute. We listened and listened for a while. But, trouble was on the way. Too many people started knowing about the operation and every night my trips to the roof became more of a hassle because everyone now wanted to come with me. And almost every time the prostitute would be listening to Umm Kulthum waiting for her “dates” to come. Every day I came to school with different stories, where I would make up the sickest sex stories for my hungry audience. I became the star for that part of every day,

Ruba iyat al-Khayyam (The Quartets of al-Khayyan)

and beat him more when they heard he was a pimp. Later, the prostitute was led away by the vice squad. When I went home that day, I remember walking through the front door, there was my mother waiting to scream at me, and of course who should she be listening to on the radio – none other than the great Umm Kulthum.


Words Daniel Shimizu 1. If she was half decent looking I’d probably think to myself “Wow, how’d I work that one out,” and then pat myself on my shoulder. If she was horrid or beastly I’d think “Damn… I just did this bitch a favor.” Nah, not really. I’d be like “Waking up sober is gonna be awkward.” 2. Was my performance up to par? Or did I have a bad case of whiskey cack? 3. Condom Disposal - Should I just chuck it next to the door so I can remember to flush it in the morning, or should I do it now. 4. Was her performance up to par? Or was she stiff as a board, or was she laid out like a star fish, or was it like throwing a sausage in a hallway? 5. Depending on number 1, 2, and 4, I’d probably think about what I’m going to sleep in. If 1, 2, and 4 were all positive outcomes, I’d sleep nude. If 1, 2, and 4 were negative outcomes, I’d put on my underwear and shimmy over to the edge of the bed and pretend sleep.

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Words Marina Garcia-Vasquez 1. The word “yes” and how far it gets you in life. 2. I want this hand on my waist. 3. Is there a poem off this pillow? 4. Where is my underwear? 5. One more time. In thinking about it, I’ve realized that it’s quite impossible to sum up your thoughts in five. A million things go through your mind and it changes with every person. Most of the time you are like “man do I have to see this person again?” Is it going to be weird now? For sure he won’t take me out to dinner again. Was I really that drunk? That’s a stupid tattoo, man he has a hairy back, his room is dirty, my room is dirty. I wish I could brush my teeth. I wish I was wearing different underwear. Why didn’t we do this before? What took us so long? I hope its better next time. I hope I didn’t say anything stupid... etcetera, etcetera.


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Words Laura Holmes Haddad Photo Haculla “I have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes and cinnamon. Come let us take our fill of love till morning.” (Proverbs 7, 17-18; Old Testament) Ahh, love. Some people crave it, others try to escape it, and even more people spend their lives chasing it. This obsession with love is nothing new. Think of Adam luring Eve in the garden, and how Juliet swallowed a potion to be with her beloved Romeo. It seems the quest for love’s shortcuts are as old as love itself. We ignorant humans are weak when it comes to the heart and we’ll go to extremes to satisfy our desires, even if it means using a little something extra to convince a reluctant lover. Which is how love potions came to be. Far from a modern invention, culinary love solutions can be found as far back as ancient Greece. Drama is drama, no matter when it happens: Apuleius, an ancient philosopher, was accused of using a love potion to attract his wealthy wife. Elizabethan England was a hotbed of herbal love concoctions. The Bard, William Shakespeare, talks of herbs, plants, and love potions in virtually every one of his plays. In “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”, Titania comes under the spell of an elixir that makes her fall for

Bottom, the tailor, instead of Oberon, the king, a lesson of elixir gone bad. Arsenic, aniseed, beetles, sulphur, bat blood, fingernails, and human blood were all ingredients in early love potions. (While dill, lentil, lettuce, watercress, and water lily were thought by the Greeks to have the opposite effect and were to be avoided at all costs.) Mint was eaten by the Romans to ensure virility (and left their breath minty fresh, which is always romantic). Whether eaten directly or sprinkled on or near the intended victim, herbal remedies were all the rage in the Renaissance era. The original use of aphrodisiacs wasn’t just for pleasure: there was a distinct need for fertility as procreation was more important than satisfying any desire. Don’t worry boys; just like the modern obsession with Viagra, there were concerns about sexual performance as well. Early Viagra came in the form of Yohimbe, an herb found in Africa and India that stimulates nerve centers in the spine, giving a man an increased ability to perform. Paralysis, high blood pressure, and hallucinations are just a few side effects, so stick with the little blue pill.


Food has long been cherished as a shortcut to a roll in the hay. Whether it’s a chemical or visual response, food has the power to turn a ho-hum attitude into full-blown desire. Besides the obvious sensuality of melted chocolate, chocolate contains a stimulant called phenylethylamine (PEA), causing a feeling of well-being and excitement that’s similar to the natural high you feel when the endorphins kick in when you’re at the gym, something the Aztecs were among the first to realize. Oysters aren’t just a modern-day cliché; in the second century A.D., the Roman poet and satirist Juvenal mentioned oysters and women in one of his writings. (Oysters have an uncanny visual similarity to female genitalia, which is how the oyster thing began in the first place.) Mangoes didn’t get their reputation as the “love fruit” for nothing; Hindu cultures hang mango leaves around newlywed’s houses to ensure a large family. Nuts are cherished by almost every culture as an aphrodisiac, and the Italians turn to pine nuts (pignoles) to get the libido flowing. A more exotic, and historically prominent aphrodisiac, is Spanish fly, extracted from dried beetle dung. But this legendary love drug is a tad risky. The sexual high comes from a rush of blood to the genital area, but be warned: the side effects include burning of the mouth, scarring of certain male organs, and even death. In Asian cultures, Chinese believe in Rhinoceros horn and ginseng root, using it in powder form to increase sexual desire. (Those poor Rhinos don’t have a chance.) Some cultures have looked past food to certain stones to guarantee love. Rose quartz was thought to attract a lover or heal a broken heart, and the Romans turned to the blue gem lapus lazuli for its 70 aphrodisiac qualities.

And scent can never be far behind food and flavor. In India, the Kama Sutra was one of the first texts to show how scent and sexuality are intertwined. Amber, musk, and saffron are used by Indian women to encourage sexuality and create a “welcoming” atmosphere. Hindu and Arabic cultures have their own traditions of culinary aphrodisiacs: cloves, cinnamon, and cardamom are seen as stimulating. And those decadent French during the rule of Louis XIV rubbed their bodies with cinnamon to attract l’amor. Why else did a Spanish explorer risk life and limb and spend months trudging through the rain to find a supposed cinnamon forest in South America in 1540? It’s not all hocus-pocus: scientists with the Smell and Taste Treatment and Research Foundation found that certain scents aroused more than men’s appetites (and certain scents turned women off). Pepper is another spice that ancient cultures used to liven up their love life: ancient Greeks used pepper and nettle seeds as a condiment to increase their ability to procreate. (The heat in pepper comes from three oils, which increase saliva and the flow of gastric juices, which can only mean good things.) Spices even entered the vernacular: in ancient Rome the word cinnamon was equivalent to the modern words “sweetheart” and “darling”. Flowers weren’t just stuck in a vase in ancient times: orange blossoms were thought to assure fidelity in a relationship, and roses are prized by many cultures for their delicate aroma and aphrodisiac qualities. Enough of the history lesson; let’s cut to the chase. If magic potions and herbal remedies aren’t your thing, seek out your own modern-day elixir. Whether it makes or breaks your heart is not for us to say.


Words Eric Foss Photo Haculla Sometimes life holds certain surprises that remain unforgotten. This story is definitely the most mood killing situation that I have experienced throughout all my travels. In my many varied sexual escapades I have definitely crossed many lines of sexuality. For instance, positions, scenarios, locations, levels of pain, role playing, and so on and so forth.

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The fact that I am still alive to tell this story is a miracle! So when the Frank dudes asked me to write something based on this subject, I said sure, I have many a tale to tell! Obviously I have to be a bit vague on certain details as to protect the certain gal that this situation took place with. So not to waste any more time, here we go. One winter night, about seven years ago, a certain lady of extraordinary beauty and class crossed my path in the L.E.S. It was love at first sight for both of us. The kind of thing you read about. She was totally Rock & Roll, yet had model-like qualities. Not too drunk, not fucked up on coke, just a rad chick. So we started hangin’ strong immediately. The sex was insane. We did almost every thing to each other, which is where this story takes a turn. Mind you, this was the first super rad mama I broed down with since moving to NYC two years earlier, so I was completely into her. Like, what ever happens, I’m into it for the long haul sort of shit. That is, until that fatal fudge filled night! That’s right FUDGE! So the woman and I go out drinking, probably the Fish or something, and get back to my spot around 4am-ish. I’m hammered, so I got a Viagra Budweiser boner going on, which means I’m going till the fat lady screams! Okay imagine you are fu@#n some sort of princess for months and she’s kind of prude about certain things. Well you get fixated on those things right? Right. So that being said she didn’t feel too comfortable having a schlong from a kid that is 6’4” near her ass. I totally understand this and was respectful

of it. But come on, we’re doods, and that’s what doods do. Cross boundaries, right? Well that night I think she had just enough hooch in her to mutter the golden words every perv kid dreams of hearing from their chick’s lips, “PUT IT IN MY ASS!” I think my testicles turned white I was so fu#$n stoked. So I lubed her up with some old fashioned man spit and slowly started. Head in the pillow, hands on either butt cheek, spreadin’ that shit hard. So we get a good groove and it’s sweet. Well the jimmy gets full quite quickly because I never did that shit to her before! So I bust super quick. No worries, she was hurtin’ any how. I roll over and trip cause it was so rad and she goes to get on top of me. All of a sudden she lets out the weirdest after sex yelp I’ve ever heard. She proceeds to put one hand over my eyes and the other over my still stiff willy. She is freakin’ out and sort of stuttering and babbling at the same time. So I wrestle her hand off my eyes and say “What the fuck happened? Are you okay?” Right as I say that, I look at Mister Peter and realize that while swimmin’ in her backend she left me a little souvenir. Well I shouldn’t say little! All I can say is, if you are going to go anal make sure you don’t take your girl out to a crazy four course meal the night before. Because you’re going to see the leftovers – for real!


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Photos Marissa Kaiser Art Direction Chicapae


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Words Joanna Angel Photos Craig Wetherby Breaking up is hard to do, but moving on is even harder. I was coming out of a relationship that ended a few months before its expiration date. It was one of those things where we didn’t really want to break up, but we just knew we had to. Conversations with my mother were becoming more enjoyable than the interactions we shared with one another on a daily basis, however, the sex was still really good. Moving on truly became an arduous process. The area we lacked in our relationship [our mental connection] was easy to stumble on drunk in a bar at 3am, but having good sex with these strangers at the crack of dawn was a feat I hadn’t been able to conquer.


So I did what most people would do in my situation and went back to my ex boyfriend, and tried to fuck him. He told me it wasn’t a good idea. I thought that was really obnoxious. After 17 consecutive nights of drinking I needed to spend a night at home. I never realized how strenuous the “moving on” process would be on my liver. I picked up the phone and called him even though I had absolutely nothing to say to him. I was having a fix for something comfortable and familiar.

I talked to him about the first time we fucked. It was so irrelevant to anything going on in our lives at that moment but talking about it out loud was more fulfilling than any of the bar-bathroom romance I’d had in the past two weeks. I got really graphic. As a recently graduated English major I had restrained from using clichés in my vocabulary or on paper in the past five years. This seemed like an appropriate time to cash in, and just use all of them. “My pussy was so wet when you asked me to go home with you” I said. “You fucked me so hard and fast and I came all over your dick so many times.” My words may as well have been plagiarized from a Penthouse Forum in 1986, but they felt damn good to say.

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“What are you doing?” I heard a noise on the other end of the line that sounded kind of like he was cleaning his bathtub and rearranging furniture at the same time. Oh my god he was jerking off. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him to be so turned on that he’d forget that having sex with me was a really bad idea and jump on the next train and fuck my brains out... but I wasn’t so sure how to make that transition only using the power of cellular technology. I also really wanted to join in but I didn’t know how. My ex and I had done just about everything two human bodies could do to one another in person, but never had we had sex over the phone. I taunted him and asked him what he was thinking about.... and in fact, it was one of my amazing blowjobs that was arousing him at the moment. I patted myself on the back. Then was just like, fuck it, and I let my guard down and stuck my hands right down my pants. It turned out to be the most amazing masturbation session I’d had to date. I never knew how much fun you could have with yourself when someone else was listening. For men, masturbation serves as a fine substitution for sex when it just isn’t available... but for women this usually isn’t the case. For me, the physical sensation of it was always titillating, but there was also something lonely and unfulfilling about masturbation. Phone sex opened my eyes to a new way of having good sex without leaving the house, or technically having sex at all.


It was apparent that my ex boyfriend felt the same way about our little phone session as I did. We both became addicted. We did it all the time. Every time I’d see his name on my caller ID I’d drop whatever it was I was doing and we’d touch the hell out of ourselves. Once, I was having coffee with a friend and I excused myself for a quickie in my car. I even did it in my mom’s bathroom when I went to visit her on her birthday. I was 23 and masturbating like a 12 year old boy, only if someone would have caught me with my hands down

told me he’d call me back. What the fuck. This was torture. Then the most daunting of all thoughts popped into my head — was he having actual sex somewhere, with someone else? What an asshole! I needed to get back at him even though he technically wasn’t doing anything wrong even if he was doing something at all. Ug. What was I to do? I shut my phone off. It was painful to look at, all silent and such. I laid on my bed,

“...I let my guard down and stuck my hands right down my pants. my pants and a phone on my ears in a public bathroom, it wouldn’t have been passed off as some endearing sign of maturity. It would have been straight up weird.

and my hands crept down my pants. I started to masturbate without anyone listening to me do it for the first time in a really really long time.

It was a Tuesday night and I purposefully didn’t make any plans. I was very much looking forward to curling up into a ball on my bed and making a scandalous phone call... but there a wrench was thrown into my plans; he didn’t pick up the phone. I called a few more times, and then I even tried several times from my house line (he didn’t know the number), and then as a last resort I attempted with a blocked number... But all I got was his stupid voicemail.

I didn’t hold myself back. I let all my inhibitions down and thought about so many arousing things that had nothing to do with my ex boyfriend. I thought about some of his friends... two of them at once! I thought about the guy I cheated on my ex with but never told him about. I thought of men I’d never spoken to in my life. I talked dirty to myself and stuck fingers in every orifice I could fit them in. I came harder and better than I ever had in my life, with no dildo, and no dick, and no phone.

Where was he?? I thought. He was supposed to be home now! He had to work early in the morning tomorrow so there was no way he could be out somewhere this late, and if he was, he would have picked up the phone and

I passed out in my bed. He called a few hours later and I didn’t pick up. I was busy spending time with someone much more important than my ex boyfriend, or any guy for that matter that, someone I had been neglecting for a while - myself.


emag

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boost mobile team rider : danny kass i875 Š2006 Boost Worldwide, Inc. All rights reserved. BOOST, BOOST and Logo, Boost Walkie-Talkie, BOOST MOBILE, BOOST MOBILE and Logo, and the Logo are trademarks and/or service marks of Boost Worldwide, Inc. MOTOROLA and the Stylized M Logo are registered in the US Patent & Trademark OfďŹ ce. All other product and service names are the property of their respective owners.


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Words Harif Guzman & J. Nicely Photos Craig Wetherby Make Up Frida Maria Stylist Imba Damn it’s still cold out, I’m thinking. At least today I get to meet Prince Paul, I’m thinking. When he walked in, right off the bat I could tell my man was a trooper, a soldier, straight analyzing the situation. He looked around, taking inventory of everyone in the room; after introducing himself to everyone, he pulls out a sharp brown suit and fedora out of nowhere, boom! Our stylist Imba, a fairy blonde chick from Iceland, gives him some Ms. Claw sunglasses, Gazzelle-steez, and they match his outfit perfectly. As we creep to the front of the studio, we talk to photographer Craig Wetherby. This guy is no joke and is the nice photographer guy that looks like he could snap if you knocked one of his lights over. Two models that we have somehow convinced to come hang and do this on 10 seconds notice pull through - yes two hot chicks n’ Prince Paul. Things are looking good. They hand Prince Paul a bouquet of some pretty colorful flowers and it is a sunny day. I feel comfortable enough with him to ask questions, we’ve warmed up to each other for 20 minutes at least; the vibe in the studio is good. Love seems to be a topic everyone enjoys talking about, so I ask Paul what kind of lover he considers himself, and he takes off. “I’m the unlucky lover! The unlucky sucker for love.” Born in Flushing, Queens, but growing up on Long Island in the shadow of two “extremely handsome” brothers, Rick and Bill, Prince Paul was the lil’ guy of the house and looked up to his brothers, one 16 years older, the other 10 years older. “They had cars, beards, and afros, and I’m a skinny corny kid,” he reflects, “living in that wasn’t cool. For girls to say hi was amazing.” Studying his brothers, a young Prince Paul would try to grasp what he could from the trenches of love, but it wasn’t easy for him.


“It was slim pickins back in those days, you had to settle, man,” asserts Paul so convincingly that I find myself nodding my head in agreement, from the tone of his voice you know it’s the truth. Growing up, during his teen years, he says sometimes he would get that note in class. “You know, ‘I think you’re cute’ from a secret admirer,” and at lunch he’d look around and it was always the fat ugly one. “Man, shucks! If you’re gonna be big, at least be cute, but neither! Nothing against big chicks” he says but he wasn’t feeling it, declaring “It’s all good - till it’s bad.” This guy is like a piggy bank of valuable clichés and phrases, everything he’s saying is humorous and on point. Amazing, muy bueno Prince Paul. So how does an EZ Lover like Prince Paul suggest charming the girl you want? He breaks down his magic, “STRONG SUBTLE ALCOHOL, the one that sneaks up on you. Something like Cisco, but a 2006 version. Cisco was high powered back in the day. But make it colorful, like pink or something, and throw an umbrella in it, make it look pretty. Also bring over some nice glasses. Hopefully that leads to the bedroom.” This modern day Shakespeare also shares this solid piece of advice, “make sure you go to her house too, this is due to this fact - it’s hard to get girls out of the house early.” Wow, this dude is old school holmes, he’s got the touch! I ask him what sweet things do you say or what should you talk about? “Everything you say is magical to a lady when she’s on liquor,” Paul explains. “You say it with a Barry

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White tone, something like, ‘Yo, I want to smell your hair,’ or ‘when we get this done, I’ll introduce you to Jay-Z. You want a deal with G-Unit?’ You say anything, ‘I know the guys at Frank they want to do a photo shoot for you, a five page spread.’ Its not like I’ve done this before, but it’s what I would do provided I had the opportunity.” My mind is blown; this guy is a pro, precise as a doctor with a laser. But no relationship is perfect, so I was curious to know how a pro EZ Lover deals with arguing with his girl. A wise old man once said, “If you don’t agree, then why are you together?” I always thought this was solid advice, I wondered if Paul felt the same way. “I would rather not argue,” Paul states bluntly. Now from personal experience we all know that sometimes fights are unavoidable, so I give him this situation: a road trip, which is when a lot of couples might get into it, you know a drive from New York to Miami; break down how to avoid an argument the Prince Paul way. Unfazed, the Prince shares his secrets, “It’s smooth on the road, because I’m blasting music the entire time. If not, I put something mellow on and she’s sleeping. Or give her some sleeping pills. I’m like, ‘You want this Vitamin Water.’ And then she’s knocked out. Twelve hours later we’re there and she didn’t even take a pee brake.” What about being a professional entertainer and the fact that you’re constantly on the road performing, how does an EZ Lover maintain a solid relationship? “Use all the technology you can, use it to


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your benefit,” says Paul. “I plan on getting a hologram installed into my kitchen table or dining room, like on some Damon Dash type shit. That way at dinner time I can just pop up and be like, ‘Yeah honey, I know how you’re doing, I’m here.’” Now that’s truly some next level thinking, which goes to prove an EZ Lover always has to stay one step ahead. Elaborating further on the human condition, this OG EZ Lover offers up this solid technique for avoiding a common mistake when answering this classic girlfriend question: “Which one of my friends do you think is the cutest?” “I don’t even try to answer that! Don’t even answer questions like, ‘Do you think Halle Berry is sexy?’ I answer, ‘She’s alright if you like that type.’ You don’t answer those questions, none of them. Too dangerous, it’s a Catch 22 situation.” How about music? What music does Prince Paul, the EZ Lover, throw on when its time to be smooth, suave, slick, sexy, etc.? Looking up with a sly grin, he says “Barry White. But you know what; I would take any record I have made, whether it be the Grave Diggaz, Handsome Boy Modeling School, or the Chris Rock comedy record. It doesn’t matter, as long as it all focuses on me. Then she says, ‘I can’t get away from you, I hear you, I see you, and I smell you.’” To which he adds this important tip on how to keep ones sex appeal at maximum potency, “For romance, the classic is, I don’t put on cologne. It’s all about pheromones. I play a lot of basketball and then I see her. Didn’t you see that study? Don’t waste your money on perfume or oils,

go funky. Not homeless funky, just wear your own smell. When you get up close she’ll be like, ‘You smell like a real man.’ And you say, ‘I do construction, I just built a house.’” This guy is a genius, the IQ of a G5 with 10 hard drives! So who is the special someone in Prince Paul’s life? It turns out he’s been with her since the 80s, which is pretty fresh to hear about these days. When I ask what her name is, he respectfully declines, “I can’t do that, her name remains anonymous.” Then, like dynamite exploding in my head, it’s clear, this guy gets it. If something is special and good, keep it that way. Love between two people is private. I can totally relate to that, privacy is a sweet thing, especially when you’re a star like Prince Paul, I imagine. All together this man is on a Biblical level. Stylee like one of the disciples, on some Black Moses tip like Isaac Hayes. When we first met, he claimed he was an “unlucky lover”. His humbleness and comedic personality and knowledge - these are things that create kings, and in my eyes I’ve truly met one of them.


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Words Teddy Becks It’s another Monday night and I’m at one of my favorite bars, Brothers Bistro in Carteret, New Jersey. So far my night is shit, no ladies, one tranny, a couple of Mexicans and a hell of a lot of dirty white steel workers. I just ordered another round, and if my math is right, I’m 12 Heinekens up and $60 down… fuck it, what’s five more bucks for the jukebox? I need some music to ease my pain. What pain you may ask? The pain of another sad and lonely night. You see, for the last two weeks I’ve been sleeping in my friend’s dank basement just feet from Dolfo. This will teach me not to come home to my girlfriend’s house shit ass wasted and try to call up to a fierce Peruvian, but what really fucked me up is the moment she caught me pissing out the bedroom window in a meditative, medicated state of mind. Well, my songs are about to come on and I really don’t feel like talking anymore, so without further adieu, here are the songs of a sad and lonely black man, I hope you enjoy.


So (in ngs Fo no r pa Go rtic The o L ula db Ol r o onel y d y& rde So Ma e to r) Bro n – N Rom I M m et ke n i a e m i n He l Yo ce Do iss Y es art ung –O –N ed ou n’t zzy Al – H ORE Cr O lT s a y– bo r rold ha Dr n Gu e Me t e ns As am I Go ‘n R lvin a s t nd l ose t Go eep – Fle Is Yo h s eB etw u( – lue P o Sp ing B The No t Sm od M art 2) es ec l ac iths - Ra Sl ial ind – ipp ekw Kis Bo on f s in’ nu t. B i sS -D g Bu ele MX b c ti on

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The mouth speaks from the abundance of the heart. Harold Hunter will always be the king of New York City to me - EZ Lover to an extent that there are no words for. The one person who had my back, he showed me how to live in this crazy ass city. How to deal with bullshit people talking shit, what to look for, and who to look out for. Most important this true EZ Lover taught me not to be ashamed to ask questions and always be yourself. Truly a natural, the easiest to ever do it.


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Jeff Pang, MCA, Harold, Dave, Alex C.

Quim, David Blaine, Harold


Slick Rick, Harold

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Ronald ‘n’ Mom, Rosario Dawson


Harold & Steven Cales


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All the people you are about to see in the following section are great lovers and master wizards. They are very crazy, do not try to approach them without Haculla’s supervision. Frank151 and Haculla are not responsible for damages caused to your house, car, boat, club, bar, beach, pool, hotel, girlfriend, boyfriend, etcetera.


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DANNY “DIRT” RENAUD


NEWPORT a.k.a. GUMSER & ANDREA


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P-ROD

JAVIER

1st Try

Smooth Operator

RODRIGO TX Tudo Beleza


MICHELLE

TRACY

Quick Temper

Lingerie Expert

AMY ‘N’ PIA

Used to Hang Out


LEO ROMERO Suave Vato

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WIEGS

Honey Bacon Club


CLARKADELIC THE GRIZ IZ THE SHIZ


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TODD JORDAN Smokin Fruit


LEAVE IT TO BEANER

SAMMY VATO LOCO ‘N’ RODRIGO LIMA


QUIM CARDONA a.k.a. BOOTY MAN 128


FRED ‘N’ PETE Big Heart

SCOTT J. & KYLE D. 13X Heart


NATE JONES

Going to California

BARKER BARRET ‘N’ NATE

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...are comfortable with their sexuality


METAL LOU

Asbury, New Jersey


MIKE DAHER 132

Low Key Lover


LOVER OF LOST ITEMS

NICK DIAMOND Nuf said...

GEOFF ROWLEY

BEN D.

Tough As Nails

Blunt Pivot


NILTON

The Brazilian Terminator

RODRIGO P.

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Brazilian Frank Sinatra

LUDA CROOKS


MIKE COX a.k.a.“DIXIE” White Wallet


CINIK

136

Graffiti Lover


TOBIN YELLAND

EUNJEAN

Photo Master

Photo Genius

ATIBA JEFFERSON Molly ‘n’ Atiba


FOREST KIRBY

Cool Guy Lover, Strictly Business

ZERRED ‘N’ WIFE 138


VINNY PONTE ‘N’ WIFEY Chillin’ TF


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CHRIS PASTRAS

The Innovator Lover, Smooth As Ice With Skills For Days


GIO, CHRIS, REDA, & NASTY NEIL

POOKY

142

Don’t Fuck With Me

PETER BICI Still On Point


DAVE

Meat Lover


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ASH

Easy Rider


MASTA ACE ‘N’ DARIEN Jersey Roots Represent

HUNTER MURIANA Catholic Guilt Master


GABRIEL, PAULO, WAITRESS, BILLY, GUY

MASTERS OF LA 146


PAULO ALI DIAZ The Relic Man


KENNY REED Charming Man

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FAT BILL

Value Pack


Quake ‘n’ Bush, Sean a.k.a. Pepper, Rob the Cop Gear Inspector

DAN “THE MAN” HATCH

Gathering Change To Buy Beer


SERGE

150

Goes Fast


MARC JOHNSON Multi Tasker

JERRY HSU Asian Elvis


152

RAMBO

Sugar Free


COBRA SNAKE AT PAPARAZZI

CAROLINE Makes Cool Shit

STEVE IS AWARE OF EVERYTHING

JORGE RanDumbLife


CRYSTAL 154

The hardest working girl in films ‘n’ commercials. She’s one to watch out for right now y’all!! Cute as a button.


HENRY SANCHEZ

Don’t Let Me Be Missunderstood


words + Layout Chad Muska Most people come to Hollywood to pursue a dream, I came here to skateboard. While skating the streets, I found my way into the club scene and started going out a lot. The clubs in L.A. change more than a hit single on the radio and you feel this need to stay on top of what is “cool” to do. Though the location changes, the faces stay the same and DJs usually have certain promoters that they spin for. Although L.A. has its dull moments in “night life”, I can say that I have had some of the best memories ever being out here. So take it for what it is and have fun in Hollywood, because you never know, you might just have to go home!

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CHAD MUSKA

...Never outta gas


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1997 come in love your haters hate your lovers too called a skate fag growing up stupid fingers and clay they shaped me this way, but I had a hand in it too I’m just saying, don’t blame a bitter realist repeat X 665 + 1, but I forget to carry the 1 sometimes gooDs

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Words J. Nicely Photo Haculla Once in a lifetime you date a girl whose mother is cool. In this case we have Lea Ditson, the ultimate hippie - esque California mom. She knows how to heal wounds, both inside and out. Also, being attractive helps. She knows all sides of love - from being a divorced single mom, to breaking the hearts of grown men. Her advice proves that moms can be EZ Lovers too. Frank 151: What do you think is the key to maintaining a long and healthy relationship? Lea Ditson: To live with open hands. To me this means being willing to let your partner be who they need to be at any given time. Of course this does not mean you let your boundaries be crossed or violated. The art of communication means both of you use your abilities to truly listen to each other. You are able to imagine being in the other person’s shoes. What they are feeling about a situation may not make sense to you. You can learn by imagining what it’s like for them; that’s truly listening. There are many factors to long healthy relationships. The above are key. But most of all, the way you love yourself will be the way you love someone else. That is one of the greatest things to remember. Relationships endure when your paths are still in sync, your self love is intact, and you want the best for everyone you love. F151: How do you win someone over? How do you sweep someone off their feet?

LD: Love! Charm or being impressive will only last a short time. If love is there, being yourself will sweep them off their feet. Being playful with the magical quality of your feelings with them should do it. F151: How does a person know when they are in love and it’s not just lust? LD: Love is a mystery; lust isn’t. The mystery to me is the vast complexity of attraction; it’s unspoken and not experienced through the mind. It’s of the heart, so our minds can’t make sense of it. The feelings of love can permeate your body, heart, and mind. Lust is not as long lasting as love. It’s not as expansive. Love wakes up feelings which may have gone to sleep; these feelings can be both frustrating and wonderful. If your heart expands when you’re in the other’s presence, that’s good. F151: How important is sex in a relationship? LD: How do you feel when you think of sex with your partner? How do you feel when you think of not being able to have sex with your partner? Would you


leave them if you couldn’t have sex or is celibacy something you practice? F151: How long should you wait before having sex, does it matter? LD: It’s a great question. If you don’t have any preconceived rules or religious guidelines it’s very individual. One thing, when you have sex your personal and physical boundaries have opened up to that person. Let’s say something happens between you which is hurtful to one of you. If trust has not been established there tends to be more vulnerability at this point. It can be a little rockier. A mature attitude and good communication skills can help you through it; sex and trust go hand in hand. F151: If the sex is bad, is it possible to have a good relationship? Do you believe there is such a thing as a “bad lover”? Or perhaps different people have different styles and just find a complimentary style, like every lock has its key? LD: Quality of sex definitely can affect a relationship. It’s deeply connected to the feeling of being accepted or rejected. It’s body language. We communicate in a different way through touch and feeling. We’re not processing through our minds. It’s a different kind of understanding, and connection than that of the mind. One who may be perceived as a “bad lover” may be a “great lover” with someone else. Many factors are at play in this. Trust is probably at the root of it. Sometimes people are not in sync because one may not be paying attention to what the other one wants or is feeling. Speak up! Sometimes it can change by the flip of a switch.

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F151: Is there anything you can use to determine ahead of time before you invest energy in a relationship, whether two people will be a good fit for each other, i.e. astrology? LD: Astrology and online dating services can point us in a direction toward compatibility but I have found love is not a science. Love is a mystery and our heart is the guide. Maybe the perfect person is sitting right next to you at work every day, but you aren’t ready for them. There are times that we mistake our attraction or “lust” for our heart’s desire. It’s tricky at times to tell the difference. Our attraction can come from our addiction tendencies. We often attract situations through relationships which we haven’t come to terms with in our selves. It can “hit us over the head” to get our attention until we understand what we’re doing. Someone once told me that when you’re looking for a relationship, “go shopping” Don’t buy the first thing that looks good. Shop around before you make your next decision. Ask that person a lot of questions. It can help to write down what’s important to you in your day to day life. Get practical. Then fall in love. F151: How do you know when a relationship is not working anymore? What are the signs? LD: Maybe the relationship isn’t working well and needs something to change or it could be that you’re starting to part ways. Either way, your body felt a certain way when you fell in love. Notice how your body is feeling toward that person now. When you don’t want to be touched by them or you feel like you tense up when you get in the same


room, pay attention. When you’re not willing to try to work things out anymore. When trust is gone or you feel flat and not alive around them, then perhaps something is asking for change.

This is how we can build trust within ourselves; not by telling ourselves how bad or unlovable we are. This builds a foundation for us to move through difficult times. Hearts can heal with time.

F151: Is it possible to still remain friends with the person afterwards? LD: Absolutely. Forgiveness is key and unresolved hurt or violation can get in the way. It’s not necessary to be friends, but it is completely possible. I’m very good friends with my daughter’s father. To me it is a service if children are involved. Asking them to split their loyalty because the adults can’t resolve their hurts is very painful to the kids. Egos need to stay out of it.

F151: How long should you wait before you start dating again? LD: It’s up to our hearts. We move forward when we’re ready. It’s like having a wound on your hand. You can’t use it because it is vulnerable, it might get reinjured or infected; so you protect it. You know when your hand is well enough to use again. It’s the same with your heart. Sometimes people are ready quickly. Their last relationship was overdue for separation. Some people cover their hurt without allowing themselves to feel it. It will show up in their next encounter. They can project those previous feelings onto the new relationship and not give it a fair chance. If you pay attention to those things, you will know.

Keep your intention strong in your hearts as to what is most important. You can be friends, or at least be respectful to one another. F151: How does one get over heartbreak and move forward? LD: That’s so hard. It can help if you allow yourself to “be” with the hurt and try not to push it away. It can feel like it’s overwhelming at times. When you have a broken heart, one of the most difficult parts is the feeling of rejection, and missing that person. Our minds also tend to bring up all our self-criticism and faults. This makes things worse!

F151: How do you keep the spark in a relationship? LD: You do this by allowing each person to be themselves, by reflecting the positive aspects that you feel for each other. The spark is within. If someone tries to control you, or you them, it can smother the flame. Fire needs oxygen. Giving space to one another to be himself/herself can be a big “turn–on”.

It can help if you imagine you have a child who is hurting in the same way. What would you tell him or her? Would you tell them that they are totally messed up? You understand how they’re hurting. Maybe you would be very kind and gentle so that they will feel nurtured and cared for. We need to learn to be this way towards ourselves. This is self love.

Guilt and resentment can also be at play, they’re like throwing a big bucket of water on a flame. Resentment can come from misunderstandings and violating the other physically or psychologically. Maybe that person did not see that they hurt you. Resentment can set in place. Pay close attention to those feelings. They build before you know it. Guilt can


also lead to resentment. If you feel guilty about something you did, speak about it directly. Try to forgive yourself for it, because even if they forgive you, it won’t resolve until you forgive yourself. These things kill the spark. Keep your relationship clean through communication. F151: Is monogamy necessary in a relationship? Is it possible to be a swinger? LD: Love and trust are of utmost importance in relationships between lovers. Being really in touch with what you feel about any situation which arises between you and your lover, being able to talk about what hurts you, or causes disharmony, listening and honoring what each other’s needs are, are primary in importance. If you can be swingers, and have the

above, then swing on with love in your hearts for each other. F151: Do you believe in true love or destiny? LD: True love is within each of us. True love for ourselves. Destiny might bring us together for many reasons. It does that. To work things out from our heart. To have experiences which each other, to learn from one another. I feel the path of love relationships is so we can have powerful mirrors of ourselves. There’s nothing like a relationship that can blow all your imaginings of how cool you think you might be. True love perhaps is there between two souls who have learned the truth about their own self love. Then the mystery that brought them together can weave itself.

Lea’s Love Tips For Your Relationship Animal: • Relationships like to visit and have fun with each other. Laugh, play. • Relationships like air and to be able to breathe. • Relationships love to be petted and touched with love and care. • Relationships like to know what you are thinking and feeling. • Relationships want to love you unconditionally if they have the freedom. Deeper Questions For Yourself: • Communication is vital. Do you really feel you have good communication skills? If there is room for improvement, get educated. • Are you aware of how you treat yourself? Love yourself? Try writing down exactly how you feel (don’t censor it) about any situation that arises with your lover that is difficult. Write only about how it makes you feel. Read it later, start getting acquainted with it. • What was your relationship with your parents? Think about each one. You often play out your relationships the way you were loved. Your awareness is a step in the right direction.

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FRANK 25: EZ Lovers  

With Chapter 25: EZ Lovers, Frank151 ponders a topic that is universal and relevant to all–love. “Whether straight, gay, man, or woman, love...