Nerve Insider : sex

New on Nerve, 5.22.08: Dating Advice From…Voiceover Artists

Nicole Ankowski — Thu, 22 May 2008 16:43:00 GMT

I used to do voiceover work…and you know what? This is totally true. Much like in life, a smile can change everything:

What's the best way to sound sexy on the phone?
You know how you can hear it when a person is smiling? It literally changes the tone of your voice. You use different muscles. Same goes for posture. Lie down, turn the lights low and voila.

As can lying down and turning off the lights. Check out more Dating Advice From…Voiceover Artists right here.

Dating Confession of the Day, 5.21.08:

Nicole Ankowski — Wed, 21 May 2008 14:49:00 GMT

Just in time for summer:

“I've really never been into giving blow jobs before but...I'm saving the last popsicle in my freezer so that when you get here I can rub it on your dick and then lick all the melty sweet yumminess. I got it bad for you.”

Do you like to play with food? Give us the dish in the Nerve Dating Confessions.

From the Archives: "Brave New World" by Mike Albo

Nicole Ankowski — Tue, 20 May 2008 21:11:00 GMT

Every once in a while, you stumble upon a piece of writing that makes you feel like maybe your desires are a little more legit than you’d felt before. In his essay “Brave New World,” Mike Albo explores the idea of gender monogamy, a sexual utopia in which he can have a long-term partnership with a man who is free to sleep with women on the side. I think it’s important to explore the limitations of our self-definition; even though it’s tempting to define your desires, is it keeping you from getting what you want? Approaching the topic with candor, wit and mathematical equations, Albo has touched on the kind of relationship I’ve been looking for my entire life. So, I mean, of course I love it.

Okay, fast forward to last week, a year or so later. Friend B calls and tells me how he and his boyfriend (let's call him aB) had some kind of ménage a quatre with Boy X and his friend, yX. Friend B exonerated himself from any guilt for this act by saying he didn't know that Boy X was Boy X until after their little four-way roundelay. That weekend Friend B had a party. I found myself on a rooftop with X, B, C, aB and yX. Jealous, freaked out and insane, I tried to employ the attentions of F, xG, and D(V-x) to retaliate. My life that night became a large calculus equation that I would never be able to solve.

But what do you think?

— Caitlin MacRae

Hollywood Sex Scene of the Day: Randy Spelling and Diora Baird in “Hot Tamales”

Nicole Ankowski — Tue, 20 May 2008 20:58:00 GMT

Not having seen the movie, I’m not sure what exactly “hot tamales” refers to. Though it could definitely be actress Diora Baird’s stupendous lady-humps. I’m not sure that appearing as a nice set of breasts in The Wedding Crashers constitutes a break-out role, but she had her moment with a Wilson brother. After that came 2006’s Hot Tamales, opposite Tori’s brother, Randy Spelling.

This roll-in-the-hay scene features the best line I’ve ever heard, if (a) one of you happens to be wearing camouflage underwear and if (b) the other one of you happens to be veteran…

Bet you can find some more hot tamales in Nerve’s Hollywood Sex Scene Database.

Behind the Scenes: Dandy, Dirty Talk with Sebastian Horsley

Nicole Ankowski — Tue, 20 May 2008 19:34:00 GMT

Today’s Q&A with dandy Sebastian Horsley will rock your world. Ever had your girlfriend hide in a cupboard to spy on you having sex? Ever fall truly, madly, deeply in love with a prostitute? Ever been deported from the U.S. for “moral turpitude”? Didn’t think so. But Horsley has. Nerve’ own Alexandra Godfrey dishes on what it’s like have your socks charmed off by a natural-born dandy:

“Alexandraaaah,” he breathed into the phone, in all of his seductive, British glory.

“Oh” I said, taken aback. I hadn’t even announced myself. “I love my name in a British accent.”

“Do you, darling? Well then, I shall say it over and over again throughout our whole interview! Alexandraalexandraalexandra.”

And that is how I “met” Sebastian Horsley. Truth be told, I was quite nervous dialing those overseas digits as I prepared to call up a perfect stranger and ask him all about his sex life. I had no idea how he would react when I asked him about his drug addiction, his obsession with prostitutes or his sexuality. It’s a strange thing to do, even if you’re not shy. Which I’m not. But still, throughout our chat, I couldn’t help but wonder if Sebastian could somehow hear me blushing through the telephone wire. That’s just the sort of man he is, the kind that makes non-shy girls blush over telephone wires.

Sebastian and I did not just talk sex. We talked music, movies, MySpace, life, dreams, aspirations (his and mine) and by the time I thought to look at my watch, nearly two hours had passed. It felt like we were teenagers, dissecting life through the telephone, hiding under the covers so our parents wouldn’t know we were racking up the phone bill. It was the kind of conversation that changes your perception of the world. Before reading his memoir, I had no idea people like Sebastian existed, but after talking to the charming devil himself, I am so very glad they do.

The day after the interview I e-mailed Sebastian to thank him for his time and offered him a drink (or twelve) the next time I breeze through London. To my surprise, the immediate reply was:

“OK. Come to my room at 7.00 p.m. If you're late, I'll start without you. Sx”

Of course, he knows I live in New York City, making it impossible for me to come to his room at seven, but the gesture was nice. Besides, it’s always refreshing to talk to someone who lives in a fantasy land that the rest of us can only wish to visit.

“Ok, see you there.” I wrote back.

— Alexandra Godfrey

Visit the fantasy land: read the entire interview here.

From The Archives: About Last Night…The Boyfriend

Nicole Ankowski — Mon, 19 May 2008 21:19:00 GMT

I got my first boyfriend when I was fourteen. It lasted one month, and the month happened to be February. So for Valentines Day he gave me a small stuffed Grateful Dead dancing bear from the head shop he hung out at, and a butterfly necklace from Claire’s that broke the next day. Just like Carrie Hill Wilner, ten years later I still don’t know what exactly makes a boyfriend, but I do know that somewhere in between Meg Ryan movies and popping the big question, we do get some pretty great stories out of these guys…

Check out Carrie Hill Wilner’s “About Last Night…The Boyfriend” and follow her deceptively endearing journey to discovering that sometimes wanting that “confusing horrible freak-out sex” can really be quite comforting… — Alexandra Godfrey

Young American Bodies Season 3 Promo

Nicole Ankowski — Mon, 19 May 2008 15:46:00 GMT

We’re as excited as the chick in the clip above: the Season 3 premiere of Joe Swanberg’s Young American Bodies series is coming May 28! If you haven’t had the extreme pleasure, you can watch Season 1 and Season 2 here. And from the above promo, this season looks better than ever…

New on Nerve, 5.19.08: “Art Star” by Ryan Britt

Nicole Ankowski — Mon, 19 May 2008 15:35:00 GMT

Have you ever dated an artist? However close and loving your relationship might be, it’s always startling to see yourself reflected in their work. Ryan Britt discovered this when he became his girlfriend’s muse:

He's really thin. He's naked. He's two-dimensional. If it weren't for the fact that he's lacking a head, he would be six-foot-one. My height. He looks just like me.
My girlfriend, Gabriela, takes a drag of her cigarette, blows the smoke across her Greenpoint studio, turns to look at the real Ryan and asks,
"Do you like it?"
"It looks like me," I say. But I'm lying just a little bit, because while this painting — entitled "White Bread" — has my chest, arms, legs and neck, his penis is bigger than mine.

The joy, the pain, the sex, the Star Trek: read the entire essay, here.

Hollywood Sex Scene of the Day, 5.16.08: The Pillow Book

Nicole Ankowski — Fri, 16 May 2008 21:40:00 GMT

Sometimes you just need a little equal-opportunity full-frontal nudity, arty sex, and French-tinged voiceovers. You’ll get all that and more in this sexy clip from 1996’s The Pillow Book, starring the gorgeous Vivian Wu. Anyone in the mood for a roll in the...paper?

Happy Friday, everyone:

In Other (Photo) Blogs, 5.16.08: Red Boxes and Ice Cream

Nicole Ankowski — Fri, 16 May 2008 21:22:00 GMT

What to do if you’re not feeling naughty enough? Siege knows: bathe yourself in raunchy red light, of course. Check out Siege’s late night at NYC burlesque bar, The Box, in all it’s red-lit glory. Afterwards, make sure to get up close and personal with blonde bombshell Anna. Who knew balance acts could be so beautiful? And if you want to get really, really up close, check this one out.

Don’t let Autumn’s grumpy little Paula make you grumpy (although we’re pretty sure she won’t)…ice cream is on the way! And she’s not just eating it in these deliciously drippy photos. Speaking of eating and deliciously dripping, see what Autumn bought the paper boy. And don’t hesitate to step into Autumn’s garden photos, for a scintillating secret…

Now, take a peek into Brandonland where it’s all penises and skateboards…and musings about SanFran. Oh, Brandonland, a place that always leaves little to the imagination, and lots to think about. For instance: the statement you make when pairing a naked light bulb, a loose fur coat, a beautiful girl and a…sword?

With Chase’s depiction of the pinnacle of Youth Angst and Drug Culture as our backdrop, we are made to ponder PBR’s place in the mix, among other things…like tantalizingly naked girls. Ever traveled to a seedy motel to eat a bag of ‘shrooms? Just for the fun of it? No matter what your drug of choice, don’t miss Chase’s twisted tale of Tybee Island.

What happens when you mix Rose and Olive, a lonely hotel room, Marilyn Monroe, a camera all together at 5 a.m.?.......THIS.

— Alexandra Godfrey

From the Archives: Sexual Amnesia and “Nocturnal Omissions”

Nicole Ankowski — Fri, 16 May 2008 18:27:00 GMT

Working here at the Nerve offices, I’ve found it’s completely natural to have sex on the brain pretty much always. When you spend your day figuring out the perfect words to parse the graphic, lovely photos from The Daily Siege, or mining the Nerve archives for steamy personal essays from years past, and when you are a sexually frustrated twenty-three year old, yes, you will spend much of your day thinking about boning.

But reading Betty Ross’s essay, Nocturnal Omissions, I felt a resonance different from the kind I get from reading hot fiction about gay sex. Because I don’t explicitly remember most of the sex I’ve had. I tend to chalk it up to having been drunk at the time.

My friends can regale me with detail after detail of their sex lives, but when my turn to spill comes around, I usually can’t muster anything more few brief, qualitative sentences. Ross’ essay explores the idea that sex – despite the amount of time, energy, and money we spend trying to figure it all out down to the littlest detail – may not actually be a memorable thing (also, this new study suggests that it may be true on a biological level):

But in making compelling or attractive points about the loss of sexual memory, they all miss the point: We don't need the bells and whistles of high-art fantasy sequences or Hollywood melodrama to engage in a fantasy about forgetting and sensuality — we live that amnesia every day. All of us remember less about our sex lives than we do about what it feels like to stub a toe or what we had for dinner last night. It is an unspoken truth that no matter how much time we spend obsessing about it, sex — even without the benefit of a Charlie Kaufman screenplay — is an inherently forgettable experience.

— Caitlin MacRae

Read the entire essay here.

New on Nerve, 5.16.08: The Nerve Date with Bobbi

Nicole Ankowski — Fri, 16 May 2008 16:38:00 GMT

This week’s Nerve Date is pretty much the happy ending to a Craigslist missed-connection fantasy. Photographer Tony Stamolis spotted the lovely Bobbi as she sat, waiting for friends to pick her up at a train station. Thankfully they were late…

How to get a pretty young thing to talk to you?
“You offered me caffeine and the prospect of $1 vinyl.”

Check out the Nerve Date here, and a sneak peek at some of the Nerve Premium shots, after the jump…

Scanner Taking Nominations for "Scanner's Top 10 Hottest Women in the World"

Nicole Ankowski — Thu, 15 May 2008 16:45:00 GMT

Scanner is serious about taking nominations for Scanner's Top 10 Hottest Women in the World. On Scanner Emily's list: “Jenny Lewis, Rilo Kiley frontwoman, child actor and even better solo artist.”

And it’s on! From ScarJo to Charlotte Rampling to…Faye Wong?...the noms are pouring in. Leave your brilliant suggestions in Scanner’s comments section. (I’m all for Thandie Newton. Even if she has gotten disturbingly skinny.)

And after you answer…Did you ever play the ol’ college game where people ask you to name, in your opinion, the hottest male and female celebrities?

So you name them.

And then – insert dramatic shoe-drop thud! here — the person asking the questions reveals that you only chose that celebrity because they look the most like you.

Which happened about 80% of the time. Except for me. I’m so proud to report I look absolutely nothing like the utterly gorgeous Thandie Newton.

::sigh::

What Thandie looks like:

The celebrity I most resembled in high school, according to some dude who made my sandwiches at Subway:

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

New on Nerve, 5.15.08: Behind the Scenes (and the Sex Drive) in “Life After Death”

Nicole Ankowski — Thu, 15 May 2008 15:06:00 GMT

"Has anyone hit on you yet?"
My brother asked me this a few months into my grieving. "No," I told him. "Of course not. I have widow cooties."

Today we’re proud to publish Susan Seligson’s personal essay, “Life After Death.” She took time to speak with us about the writing process, love, grief, sex — and what happens when you just want to get hit on, but all you receive are hugs. We'll turn it over to Susan:

“In the months following my husband¹s death, I couldn¹t write much. I resisted some friends’ well-meaning insistence that I write about what I was experiencing. Throughout my career I¹ve told my own stories in a way that — or so I¹m often told — touches a common nerve, makes people laugh, cry, or both. But it takes time to gain the clarity to do this. (Joan Didion wrote nothing for a long time before she began her stunning book The Year of Magical Thinking.) I may never feel compelled to tell the whole story, but this Nerve essay touches on just one aspect of widowhood I find provocative — how recent widows are habitually viewed as asexual — and one I can¹t recall reading much about. I’m eager to see comments from readers, especially those who have lost their partners and can relate to that feeling of ‘otherness.’”

Read the entire essay here.

Sneak Peek: Photoblogger Autumn’s Work To Appear in Journal Nico

Nicole Ankowski — Wed, 14 May 2008 16:25:00 GMT

We love Autumn Sonnichsen, and her fabulous Nerve photoblog. Her blog is like an instant mental trip to Brazil, and a world made up of lazy mornings, week-long beach adventures, and wild city nights. Oh yes, and did I mention all the gorgeous naked women? (And sometimes, if we’re lucky, men.) Autumn’s work is also being featured in the summer issue of Nico, a gorgeous fashion/photography/art/design journal.

Here’s a sneak peek of some her delicious spread…

...and you can order Nico here.

Busty Bachelor Winner, Meet Joe Francis…

Nicole Ankowski — Tue, 13 May 2008 22:41:00 GMT

The latest Bachelor: London Calling “winner” Shayne Lamas got way more than just some big-ass bling and the pet name “Monkey”…

She’s also snagged a six-page spread in Girls Gone Wild…the magazine. (They have a magazine?).

People reports: Girls Gone Wild publisher Joe Francis says Lamas’ appeal is easy to sum up. “Shayne has a genuine ‘girl next door’ quality,” he said in a press release. “But she also happens to be very hot.”

Sadly, he wasn’t able to convince her to pose nude in the mag. Because that would have been degrading…

[Via Jezebel, via People]

Hollywood Sex Scene of the Day, 5.13.08:

Nicole Ankowski — Tue, 13 May 2008 21:05:00 GMT

Here is the inimitable sex scene featured on some posters for 1992’s Damage. The ever-lovely Juliette Binoche and the ever-gangly Jeremy Irons completely commit to making this on-screen copulation look as wild and writhing and boundary-less as good sex can be.

That, or they look like two pale nude stick-bugs goin’ at it near the bathroom door…

Either way, I know you want to take a peak:

Wanna see the top five sex scenes that could incite a revolution? All this and more in Nerve’s Hollywood Sex Scene Database…

In Other Blogs, 5.13.08: Scanner Brings Us One Sexually Confused Fur Seal, A Thousand Amused Scientists…

Nicole Ankowski — Tue, 13 May 2008 18:13:00 GMT

It’s been an interesting day already with the Scanner crew. You really need to check out what happened when a male fur seal mistook a king penguin for a vagina. Lots of seal-on-penguin action shots (but in black and white, so they're classy!). You’ll want to check out:

Caught on tape: fur seal tries, unsuccessfully, to have sex with king penguin. For at least 45 minutes.
Caught in the White House: Vice Admiral John Stufflebeem stuffs his beam.
The Wizard of Ass: Dorothy Is Not a Virgin Anymore. Brought to you by Chuck Palahniuk.
The dangers of Google maps. Pertains to prostitution, nose-picking.
NY anchorwoman Sue Simmons very clearly drops the F-bomb on air.
Jimmy Fallon to replace Conan O’Brien?
Arizona considers ban on gay marriage too lenient a stance…
Do you love Blow? This woman doesn’t.
“Desire Paths”: sexy name for being lazy?

Parasite “Turns Women Into Sex Kittens” (Is This Why I’m Posting Kitten Videos?)

Nicole Ankowski — Tue, 13 May 2008 17:36:00 GMT

I’ve been trying to think of an excuse to post funny kitten videos (above, "kitten surprise"! Wait for it...). But I couldn’t justify releasing my inner-crazy cat lady, willy-nilly. Thank God for the news, and Australians: “Parasite ‘turns women into sex kittens’.”

Want to know what it does to men?

(As well as: video of kittens on a treadmill, and their sadistic, brilliant owners.)

About 40 per cent of the world's population is infected with Toxoplasma gondii, including about eight million Australians.

Human infection generally occurs when people eat raw or undercooked meat that has cysts containing the parasite, or accidentally ingest some of the parasite's eggs excreted by an infected cat.

The parasite is known to be dangerous to pregnant women as it can cause disability or abortion of the unborn child, and can also kill people whose immune systems are weakened.

Until recently it was thought to be an insignificant disease in healthy people, Sydney University of Technology infectious disease researcher Nicky Boulter said, but new research has revealed its mind-altering properties.

"Interestingly, the effect of infection is different between men and women,'' Dr Boulter writes in the latest issue of Australasian Science magazine.

"Infected men have lower IQs, achieve a lower level of education and have shorter attention spans. They are also more likely to break rules and take risks, be more independent, more anti-social, suspicious, jealous and morose, and are deemed less attractive to women.

"On the other hand, infected women tend to be more outgoing, friendly, more promiscuous, and are considered more attractive to men compared with non-infected controls.

"In short, it can make men behave like alley cats and women behave like sex kittens''.
[news.com.au]

Watch their tails. Big, freaked out cat tails. Love it.

Nerve Dating Confession of the Day, 5.12.08:

Nicole Ankowski — Mon, 12 May 2008 22:39:00 GMT

Today’s confession of choice is not too hot and not too cold. Even if he wasn’t feeling it, we think it’s just right. Have you ever turned down (or been turned down) when requesting something new? Tell us a story in the Nerve Dating Confessions...

From the Archives: I Did It For Science: Injaculation

Nicole Ankowski — Mon, 12 May 2008 16:34:00 GMT

In this I Did It For Science report, British hottie Grant Stoddard enlists a buddy to help him achieve injaculation, aka “enlightened consciousness through orgasm without the expulsion of seminal fluid, vis-â-vis strategic pressure on the perineum.” "Huh?" you say? Okay, here's what it means:

“A couple of minutes in and fast approaching the point of no return, I located what Taoist's refer to as the 'million-dollar point,' the spot nestled between a gentleman's love spuds and his rusty bullet hole. I pressed hard and felt a strong, constant pulse on my perineum. Just before orgasm, the pulse became arrhythmic, then graduated to a panicked pounding, like a palpitating elk heart betwixt my legs. Trying to really concentrate on the feeling was extremely difficult. I was just hoping that I survived long enough to give the scientific community my theory on why people spontaneously combust.

Then, immediately prior to the moment where I'd typically soil the bed linen, I saw for a brief second what all those pony tailed forty-somethings had been proselytizing about. The build-up to orgasm was momentarily more intense than usual, but the feeling soon vanished as quickly as it had arrived. I continued to press hard for a minute or two, concentrating on the subsidence of pressure in my rig. I withdrew my fingers from my undercarriage and propped myself up on my shoulders, disturbed and underwhelmed by the whole ordeal.”

Read more about Grant’s self-experimentation, as well as how his friend Brian’s experiences. Anyone out there an injaculation fan?

Hollywood Sex Scene of the Day: Mother’s Day Edition

Nicole Ankowski — Fri, 09 May 2008 20:11:00 GMT

Who’s the hottest mama of them all? It’s gotta be Angelina Jolie, baby. I know I just featured her recently, but in honor of Mother’s Day, I thought it’d be nice to see where it all began. Her being a mom, I mean. There really is chemistry between her and Brad. Lots and lots of chemistry…

Here’s a nice, long clip from Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Mediocre movie; steamy sex scene.

Check out more hot mamas, both literally and figuratively, in Nerve’s Hollywood Sex Scene Database.

From the Archives: Your Mother Was A Fish

Nicole Ankowski — Fri, 09 May 2008 17:14:00 GMT

A word of warning: this Sunday, May 11, is Mother’s Day. Buy a Hallmark Card, dammit! Or, if you and your mother have a special sort of relationship, I guess you could share these stories with her…

A.M. Homes’ tells the mother of all tales:

“She had a dressmaker split the center seam, separating her so she could walk, and went through life with her legs covered in thick green scales, a brocade, fossilized by the sea into leathery chaps like a cowboy would wear. Men found her scales incredibly attractive; it was considered good luck to rub her thighs. They all wanted only one thing, to get into the space between the scales, the alligator purse that had been perfectly protected. The sweat of their palms stung her skin; she found them repulsive.

She moved to Massachusetts and took a part time job doing women's work sewing tassels on loafers in a shoe factory.”

...read “Your Mother Was a Fish” in its entirety, here.

You’re more into poetry, you say? Check out “My Mother’s Penis” by Carissa Neff. Don’t forget the batteries!

And if you love funny-sad, smart-sexy-strange (who doesn’t?) check out Lisa Carver’s personal essay, “All About My Mother.”

And The Modern Materialist brings you a scary way to put the disembodied voice of your mother inside your refrigerator…

We’re Listening To…Dolly Parton

Nicole Ankowski — Thu, 08 May 2008 22:18:00 GMT

We saw the divine Miss Dolly recently at Radio City Music Hall, and happen to agree with everything this dude says here. A lot of her stage banter from back-then is the same as now…though maybe a lil’ bit more polished. And she certainly didn’t tell this story about beating the tar out of anyone.

Though she looks more like this now…

As the Voice says, “No plastic surgery in at least five months.”
May we all be as feisty, beautiful, brilliant and bad-ass as Dolly!

[Photo via David Atlas via The Village Voice]

Dating Confession of the Day, 5.8.08:

Nicole Ankowski — Thu, 08 May 2008 17:39:00 GMT

We’re having a debate here in the Nerve offices: do the people (i.e. you) want to see (tastefully, artistic) sexxxy nude pics of UPS delivery workers? Does a man (or women) in uniform turn you on? Looks like we’ve got one yes vote. Seriously: does a uniform up the snoggability factor? Why did I just use the word “snog”? Check out this, and so many other, more interesting questions, at the Nerve Dating Confessions.

The Modern Materialist Interview: Geoff Haggerty and the Comfy Bed

Nicole Ankowski — Thu, 08 May 2008 17:30:00 GMT

What do you think makes J.Lo go "woooo"?

This week, The Modern Materialist talks to Geoff Haggerty, a writer for the Onion News Network, who, for a very long time, had a teeny tiny bed. And then he went shopping…

MM: So, without necessarily getting too explicit, any interesting stories you can share about the bed?
GH: Oh, you mean besides all the incredible sex I've had in it? Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. That's what it sounds like when I have sex. I'm sort of at a loss interesting story-wise. I will say that for the first month or so after I bought it, it completely felt like any extravagant purchase or gift. You know that feeling of, "I can't wait to play with my new video game or iPod or whatever?" Well I had that feeling, except with a bed. I got all happy and sleepy and tired at the same time and went to bed earlier than at any other time in my life.

Want a bed that makes you go “Wooooo”? Find it right here, on the TMM.

New on Nerve, 5.8.08: Dating Advice From…Foreign-Exchange Students

Nicole Ankowski — Thu, 08 May 2008 14:45:00 GMT

Today’s Dating Advice From… offers some seriously good tips. With helpful hints on the transitory nature of love, seduction, and smoking up…you know you want to read it:

I met a guy who hardly speaks any English, and I don't speak his language at all. We've gone on a few dates together and had a great time anyway. Can this possibly last?
It won't last. But continue dating him and take advantage of the positives — enjoy your time with him, get into his native culture and pick up some of his language. All the English I know, I learned from the hot girls.

Lo amate? Check out the bello advice, right here.

In Other Blogs, 5.7.08: Scanner Helps You Over Hump Day

Nicole Ankowski — Wed, 07 May 2008 21:23:00 GMT

Wow, the Scanner crew knows how to pick ‘em. Today they ask Who Would You Rather: R. Kelly or the Maytag Repairman? I bet you can guess who’s winning…Also helping you get over the Hump Day:

Penis Camouflage: Fun for the Whole Family.
The Spears Family: not so fun.
The Weather Channel wants to lick your swizzle stick, fire your ass if you say “no.”
Wardrobe Malfunction: Did totally classy actress Natasha Richardson really forget to wear panties?
Time Out New York shows real New Yorkers, really naked. For once, we’d rather have seen Julia Allison.
This carrot needs pants! (Thanks commentator “HOLY MACKEREL!”)
Video of Arizona State University’s drunken “Undie Run”: we can smell the Axe Body Spray from here.
“An Australian man was acquitted of forcing vampire sex on a 16-year-old girl who claims he stalked her for years”…I’m sorry. Wait. Vampire sex?

All this and so much more…over at your daily Scanner.

Who’s the Sexiest Flight of the Conchords Star?

Nicole Ankowski — Wed, 07 May 2008 15:32:00 GMT

To vote, click on the name you love the most…

About Last Night: Flight of the Conchords at Town Hall New York

Nicole Ankowski — Wed, 07 May 2008 15:30:00 GMT

Who Would You Rather: Bret or Jemaine? At last night’s Flight of the Conchords’ show at Town Hall New York, that fateful question seemed to be the main point of contention between audience members, and the boys themselves. And the guy next to me, and me. (What a hard life, huh?)

My personal dilemma: who was Jemaine’s new hairstyle most reminiscent of? Greg Brady? Farrah Fawcett? …but I’m getting ahead of myself.

I was lucky enough to have snagged one of red velour-covered seats at last night’s sold-out concert, though I wasn’t sure what to expect. As a fan of the HBO series, and a long-time deliberator between whom I would rather (Jemaine. Definitely Jemaine.), I still had never bought one of their albums. (Sorry, guys.) After the comedic stylings of Todd Barry warmed up the crowd (everyone loves a good Trader Joe’s joke) the lights went down, and the crowd’s energy went up. The hipster-esque crowd morphed into a humming, fidgeting vat of pheromones. Thank God the AC was on high or the place would have melted.

Then the Kiwi digi-folk-paradist gods came onstage to thundering applause…looking just like themselves. Hey, I’ll freely admit that I spent the first 20 minutes mentally going, “Wow, Bret (“Brit”) looks just like he does on TV! Only maybe his teeth are whiter. And his moustache is slightly more pronounced. And he’s not wearing an 80s sweatshirt emblazoned with an owl or a deer or any other woodland creature. And, he just said ‘fuck’! Oh my Lord, he just said ‘fuck’ again. Bret on the show wouldn’t say ‘fuck’!” (Yes, I have an MFA.)

I’ll also freely admit that for at least five minutes I thought a spider had landed on my head or back. I was a little distracted.

But I was soon drawn back in. The boys are as endearing live as they are on the show, and play basically the same characters. Bret told tales of his imaginary wife and children, and their children’s children, and their children’s children’s children…maybe you had to be there. The crowd loved each and every song, from the good ol’ classics like “Business Time” to new songs featuring women fleeing relationships via bus or coma. The theater was lush with soft Kiwi lust. The first woman to shout out “I love you Bret!” caused a mild ripple of sighing agreement. More fans shouted out to Bret, including the guy next to me who was about to jump out of his seat. (And who kept stretching his neck with head-rolling exercises. Understandable, but still disconcerting to see – out of the corner of your eye – a pale, slack face rolling slowly toward you, Exorcist-like. I wanted to give him a neck rub to make him stop it already, but I think he only would have accepted such assistance from Bret.)

Of course, to a Jemaine supporter such as myself, these Bret-oriented catcalls smacked of insult. I was just about to shout my support of Jemaine’s body when another woman to the left of the house did it better, and louder. Though it did come off like a sad condescension, after the myriad pro-Bret catcalls. “We love you, um, too, Jemaine!”

Even when Bret had all the men in the audience shout “We love you, Jemaine” … the taller and more myopic Conchord still seemed a tad despondent. Only one person shouted Murray’s name; but wouldn’t we all have liked to see some Ginger Balls?

The show went on, with myriad audience requests – only five or so for “Freebird” – which Jemaine happily obliged, singing the one line he knew. By the end of the night, the tide had turned and women were screaming for Jemaine’s body. (His tight white shirt, unbuttoned one daring button past what most American dudes allow, did show it off in all its hulking glory.) After a two-song encore, the boys sadly disappeared…despite their onstage banter (promise?) of hanging out and receiving kisses from fans.

I would totally have had them sign my breasts and get a pic. Just for you guys. Alas, we were all left to wander into the night, singing their songs in our heads and carrying love in our hearts…

Oh yes. And the one remaining, vital question of the evening: how best to describe Jemaine’s new, slightly longer hairstyle? I will grant you that he has dark hair, was sitting in front of a black curtain, and that I am probably legally blind…but with my smudged glasses I studied him. Oh how I studied him. The thick curls of Patrick Dempsey? The lush brunette glory of Greg Brady? The way the sides of his bangs flipped back: a new (utterly masculine) take on the Farrah Fawcett flip?

But then it hit me, like a vision of David Bowie a-glitter and a-glow, above my bed: Andy Samberg.

Wait till the new season. You’ll see.

Unless he gets a haircut. Or, I need new glasses.

— Nicole Ankowski