Friday, June 29, 2007

Planet Manola: Sowing Your Wild Oats

Random news, commentary and photographs. Updated at least once every menstrual cycle, if not more frequently. If you are easily offended, do not read on!

"Comfort me with apples for I am sick of love. His left hand is under my head and his right hand doth embrace me." -- Song of Schlomo

Memo to Employees of Wild Oats in South Beach: Although we embrace the diversity of our employees and respect your tongues, we kindly ask that you please refrain from referring to cunninilingus in the presence of our customers. Kind regards, Human Resources Department

OVERHEARD AT WILD OATS YESTERDAY


Clerk: Yo Ricky, where's Rocko?

Cashier: Lo vi saliendo del carro despues de mamar su geva. (I saw him get out of the car after he went down on his bitch.)

Clerk: How do you know?

Cashier: (rubs hand over mouth): He was wiping it off, man.

Clerk: So where is he now?

Cashier (shrugs shoulders): I don't know.

What if the same conversation had taken place at Kosher World?


Sofi also overhears plenty of interesting conversations ...

tags: , , , , ,

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Sassy Chick Speaks Her Mind



Samba JalapeƱo may only be two years old, but she's definitely becoming South Beach's favorite party animal! Hopefully she won't get pulled over for drunk flying like Parrot Hilton.

tags: , , ,

Friday, June 22, 2007

Chorizo or Wienerschnitzel?


So, does size really matter? Manola's hero, the fabulous and gorgeous sex educator Alessandra Rampolla once gave this advice (translated here):

Gordito or flaquito? "It's better for it to be wider than longer."

What size? "I have a friend who said that the perfect man would have three penises: a small one for anal sex, a medium one for vaginal sex and a big one for oral sex."

Ladies, what do you think?

If you speak Spanish, enjoy this hilarious yet erudite interview by Jaime Bayle on all things dick!



Glumbert clip via email from a wonderful new neighbor!

tag: , , , ,

Monday, June 18, 2007

Planet Manola: Tancredolandia


Random news, commentary and photographs. Updated at least once every menstrual cycle, if not more frequently.

BREAKING NEWS! We interrupt this blog to stray from the subject of sex!

Greetings, citizens of the world, far and wide. It has come to my attention that communication is a major issue in third world countries such as Darfur Miami. So Maestra Manola Finlandia, an expert in Spanglish who teaches at the Ritz Carlos School of Language, has taken on a philanthropic mission paralleled only by Bradgelina to teach the world the language of the new America.

Listen, screw all the news. Many of you bitch about Hispanics but none of you have paid any thought to this very interesting phenomenon: the hard-working, highly-intellectual Cuban-Americans raised in Miami who aren't some yahoos living in mud huts. My Cubanos ... you know who you are and I'm not talking about stogies! It's time we made a statement and flung some verbal frituras de bacalao out into the world!


THIS IS FUCKING AMERICA, GET OVER IT YOU PASTY-FACED CHILDREN OF SLAVE OWNERS FROM TEN GENERATIONS AGO WHO ORIGINALLY CAME FROM EUROPEAN POTATO FARMERS! ONE-LANGUAGE SPEAKING XENOPHOBIC DOLT WHO CAN'T DANCE DOESN'T EXACTLY SPELL WORDLY SOPHISTICATION OR HUMAN WISDOM, EH? WHAT DO YOU EXPECT WHEN THE PENINSULA IS SITUATED SO CLOSELY TO OTHER COUNTRIES? WAR, IMMIGRATION, EXILE, LINGUISTIC CROSS-POLLINATION, ETC; IS LIKE THE M.O. OF WORLD HISTORY AND CULTURE ALREADY! SO DON'T LORD IT OVER ME, YOU HONKY ASSHOLE!

Oh, but Maestra Manola Finlandia has enjoyed deep, rich irony in her life, such as the fact that she too is pasty-faced. Favorite line:
"You're Cuban? Really? I would've never thought so. I thought all people not from America were black and stupid and didn't speak English. Who knew? You're whiter than my South Beach bleached ass and have blue eyes. What's more, your English diction is more impeccable than the Oxford Dictionary tear sheets the Queen uses to wipe her ass on the royal toilet. How can you possibly be Cuban?"
See, apparently many Americans have an issue with Spanish. They get so pissed off about it, they even cancel blogs. Shit! It doesn't matter that the man who "discovered" America was a greedy Genovese (that's Italy, people) mother fucker who screwed the Queen of Spain to kill a bunch of Indians and deplete this continent of its natural resources just to fill his own pocket and masturbate to the cross while millions of Jews and Muslims were being slaughtered in a horrible inquisition.

He spoke Spanish, you say? Well, then that's it. Although not documented, it is said that Sir Francis Drake refused to clink his glass of calvados with Old Columbo! This may have had to do with the fact that one was dead, but heck, it was pirates in the Caribbean back then, and you know ... oh and less does it matter that the first fucking city in the territory currently know as the United States of America was St. Augustine, Florida, founded by a bunch of spick monks. Damn!

Oh and all those desperate English-speaking people who took the bangers-and-mash boat over from England to land in Plymouth because they hated their greedy, disgusting rancid-smelling fat pig of a king who dispensed with wives like he spit out peach pits inspite of all this Magna Carta crap, they were a bunch of mother fuckers also.

Y'all, half of them stayed sequestered in the Appalachians and came out with Pork BBQ and Southern twang, as well as a predilection for maudlin, melodious songs. All these idiots were followed by genocidal-crazy Germans who ended up killing a bunch of Jews (oh no! just broke Godwin's law!), lightbulb-challenged Polacks, pizza-tossing Italians and so forth, while all the peeps who used to live here were treated like shit.

And there you have it, the history of America in one fell swoop. IS IT ANY WONDER WE ARE A 231-YEAR-OLD COUNTRY? GOD BLESS AMERICA! MORE OR LESS THE SAME SHIT THAT HUMANITY HAS BEEN DOING SINCE DAY ONE IS GOING ON NOT JUST HERE BUT EVERYWHERE.

Conclusion: we are all a bunch of assholes from somewhere else and in spite of this, so many amazing people born here have made a positive dent in the history of the world. What would the earth do without the chongas from Hialeah going viral? I'm telling ya, there's hope yet!

PATRIOT PORK

Do you or don't you go for pork? This should be the international law of war. Think about it: isn't the current bellicosity divided so?

Here's what I say: cultures that cook pork should not go to war: this includes, well, everybody excepts for Jews and Muslims but pastrami and goat are fair substitutes. Damn, I ate choucroute French version of bangers and mash in Strasbourg and that was a 2,000 year old city. In fact, my first love, the Nazi, was so into lard that his grandmother tried to pass it off to me as a delicacy while we dined in Cologne. So shut the fuck up and let's have peace and break bread over the caja china, ok?

Hot tamale delivery service aint necessarily a bad thing! Want a taste of the real Tancredolandia? Visit the dangerous blonde! And do support our troops, especially if you are against the war and want peace. I don't care what you believe. Peace starts in the heart, one conversation, one letter, one person at a time.

BACK TO SEX IN MIAMI

In other news, the Miami construction bubble may be burst, but at least someone is making good use of all those cranes!

YOUR SPANGLISH LESSON

Learn all about Tiki Tiki, an indispensable Spanglish word, sort of like a tampon. Especial tanks to Guayn Kokran's hair and to Tere la mamasita mas rica!



tags: , ,

Friday, June 08, 2007

Planet Manola: Kooks vs. Books

Random news, commentary and photographs. Updated at least once every menstrual cycle, if not more frequently.

I want to see pictures of boys' pee pees!

VAMOS TO HELL

Just because we simply haven't had enough warmongering among the males of the local blogosphere about the clusterfuck known as the "Miami-Dade School Board Does Not Heart a Book Called Vamos a Cuba," let's look at some of Manola's favorite reads, which have been considered unsuitable for the tender minds of innocent Americans.

Decameron by Boccacio: Call Homeland Security! All those damn Italians yapping about Muslims having orgies!
Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller: All those damn American expat writers having sex with French whores in Paris and washing their genitals in bidets! Ew!
As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner: You sicko, your dead mother is not a MILF!
Canterbury Tales by Chaucer: That Wife of Bath was some skanky old ho!
Lady Chatterley's Lover by D.H. Lawrence: Crippled husband with no penis? Yum! Can I have fries with that?
Lord of the Flies by William Golding: Stupid ass title. Americans worship fries, people!
Little Red Riding Hood by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm: You know what the big bad wolf really wanted, eh?
Candide by Voltaire: Those damn French people again! Over the limit in allowable number of rapes and disembowlments per chapter!
Ulysses by James Joyce: Ew, Irish women menstruate and men fart? That's not literature! Gross!

Who needs fuckin' books anyway? They only fill your mind with gobbledygook and make you question things. Who has time for that shit? Let's just get rid of all books in all school libraries. We could fill up the stacks with Martha Stewart tchotchkes from Kmart!

I JUST CALLED TO SAY I LOVE YOU

Ladies, here's some practical advice from Maestra Manola.



tags: , , , , , ,

Monday, June 04, 2007

Planet Manola: Is Your Bunghole Spotty?

Random news, commentary and photographs. Updated at least once every menstrual cycle, if not more frequently.



MIAMI BLEACH

Intrepid New Times reporter Joanne Green wanders into a waxing salon on South Beach and discovers bunghole bleaching. Just when you thought human beings couldn't possibly be more vain and shallow, a genius invents Anal Bleach Cream. Let me tell you something: if you are peering at my asshole, you better not fucking complain about the shade of its complexion. Have some manners, you sicko!

Now here's a product we must have! Where did I put the phone number of that pharmaceutical company exec who brought me drinks at ... ?

CYBERSPACE VS. MEATSPACE

What's up with people trying to hook up through blogs? Just because a woman writes about sex doesn't mean she's advertising her interest in dating to the world. Let me tell you something: a blog is not a fucking personals ad. You want to date? Go to fucking mismatch.com, ok? As a matter of fact, the author of this blog is a pimply, overweight raging lesbian Buddhist monk mother of three brats spawned by Mighty Dyckerson with a terrible case of gonorrhea who suffers from boils and lives on welfare while practicing abstinence. And no, you can't nominate me for Jerry Springer's show. I love my privacy. Fuckin' A.

PS ... NY Mary, are you proud of my Queen's English?

I'M PROUD OF MY BIG CUBAN ASS

Ay mi Celia! Mi reina! The world is not the same without you, but your legacy lives on! You were the body electric, mama! You put the song in our hearts and the wiggle in our butts. Whenever anyone gives me shit about being Cuban, I just want to hold up a banner that says: don't mess with the memory of Celia! AZUCAR!

So just in case you thought South Beach was full of vain and shallow people who want their assholes to look like a newborn baby's scalp, let me remind you that our fair island does boast some signigicant culture. Don't miss the exhibit devoted to Cuban music's firebrand at the Ass Museum of Fart Bass Museum of Art, ongoing until August 19.

PIMP ME WITH A CHERRY ON TOP

Join the author of this blog at Miami Beach 411 for sizzling coverage of Top Chef Miami!



Beach sex photograph courtesy of never-ceases-to-amaze-me Miami Fever.

tags: , , , , ,