Cuz you wanna get dirty…really dirty…
So if you can’t keep your hands off anything having to do with pop diva X-tina, open up Ebay and make a bid her thong, and brace yourself, some pool water. Compliments from a Maxim photo shoot and Scott Mills of BBC radio, included in the package is one white thong, one sealed tub of pool water, a cover letter from Maxim, and a few pointers from Miss Aguilera on how to win her affections. Bidding right now is at 320.00 UK money.

Roving Fridays in the Wynwood…
Take a stroll in the Wynwood Art District, aka Miami’s Design District this Friday night. Sponsored by Bacardi, The Yummiest.com, and Objex Artspace, pay $5 to grab some drinks and talk intellectually with members of the boho crowd. Open from 8 to midnight, located at 2632 North Miami Ave.

wiiiiiiiiiiiings!
Foreshadowing the extreme amounts of laughter to come, the Red Bull Flugtag is coming to Miami’s Bayfront Park in early April. However, deadline for team sign-up is February 25th, so apply and test your skills for flying, who knows…you could be better than Icarus.

The Baywatch BABE this way comes…
Pamela Anderson is gracing the beach with her presence- on Saturday night she will host a party at Priv celebrating the promotion of Sirius radio.

French pop music? I thought we had enough with one Britney Spears, and I doubt many of us would take an interest in a French-speaking one we can’t understand. This was my impression, and I’m sure the impression of most Americans, when it comes to pop music.

It’s the kind of music of which Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake are the Queen and King of, and it’s avidly worshipped by much of our teen generation. It’s a common generalization nowadays, but actually, French pop isn’t what clich would dictate. I was pleasantly surprised, to say the least, when I popped in Le Pop 2 and was met with a sugary, whimsical little song in which an older man – not Britney or Justin – sang in French in a sort of absurd, matter-of-fact tone. It led me to believe Pascal Parisot was singing about some mishap or other he’d encountered in his day-to-day living. The song is composed of pre-programmed beats that sometimes reminded me of the kind of melodies I’d hear as I played Super Mario Bros back in the 80’s. It’s that kind of bouncy tune, but with a mellow twist.

Le Pop 2 is a CD compilation of modern popular French music – 16 examples of it, each song by a different artist. One of the songs featured a young woman singing in a sweet and sensual silky voice with a samba beat. The song’s called “Samba De Mon Couer Qui Bat” and features an exotic ensemble of instruments such as trumpets, piano, guitar, guiro (of Cuban descent), and maracas. The result is a sound that is totally unique and completely charming in the way it soothes with its mystic mellowness. There’s a longing in Coralie Clement’s fragile voice that makes one think she’s singing nostalgically about some long-lost samba-dancing Latin lover from her past. Her purr-like singing style and the purr-ish nature of the French language itself make the song absolutely enchanting; a delicious, velvety piece the whole way through. Think “The Girl from Ipanema,” but with a more earthy tone.

The songs in Le Pop 2 are extensively varied, and none show the slightest resemblance to the kind of pop music Americans are used to; it’s a refreshing wave of music for that very reason. All contain an inherent whimsy and mellow feeling to them, making the CD especially optimal for relaxing to (something us Americans don’t partake in too often, and should). French pop has already caught on heavily in Germany; they absolutely love it over there. Shall we give it a shot? If you’re hankering for some relaxing, whimsical tunes, this CD is definitely the way to go. If you’re looking to introduce yourself to French pop, then this CD is the perfect introduction.

Don’t shy away from this genre just because you don’t understand French; the fact that you get to imagine what they’re singing about is part of the charm of the songs themselves.

Deborah Acosta can be contacted at d.acosta2@miami.edu

Driving through downtown Gables on a Saturday night, you can’t help but notice the crowd accrued outside of what seems to be a trendy hotspot. You may find yourself asking what the stir of all the commotion is before realizing it’s but another Saturday night for celebrity restaurant and bar, Houston’s. Its central and prime location, bordering the corner of Miracle Mile and Ponce, places this restaurant alongside the elite worthy enough to merit a spot on the strip.

Upon arriving, there’s an optional valet, and as you make your way into the restaurant, your attention is sidetracked from the hostess to the bar. The bar exudes a welcoming atmosphere, perhaps due to its displayed TV sets or friendly bartenders, just tempting you to take a seat. As opposed to many enclosed bars, this one was designed to incorporate itself into the restaurant section with petite side tables surrounding it providing for conversational space or perhaps an appetizer or cocktail. Expect a wait – but know it’s well worth.

The restaurant’s layout is spacious and uncluttered, comprised of modern yet comfy booths and tables. The architectural design gives way to vaulted ceilings with spot lighting setting its dim ambiance. The contemporary dcor plays off of the displayed different time zones, listing distinguished cities in the U.S. and the world.

The kitchen is open to view and the chefs visible to all. The scent of food exits the kitchen permeating throughout the restaurant, drifting towards the bar. Their gourmet menu offers a varied selection though somewhat limited. Few restaurants feature truly exemplary entrees as Houston’s does. I’d definitely recommend the spinach dip as an appetizer to start off the meal. The entrees range from steaks such as the New York Strip to grilled marinated chicken and fish platters. Though not inexpensive, the medium price stays in the $20’s. The Hawaiian Rib Eye steak was near to perfection – it didn’t lack in either tenderness or juiciness and was tousled with steamed broccoli. Aside from their decadent entrees, Houston’s also prides themselves in their extensive wine selection encompassing nearly half of the menu.

The service is flawless, from the beginning till the end. Go for lunch, take a date for dinner, or just hang out with friends before heading out for the night. Houston’s surpassed my expectations and is definitely climbing my Top 10 list.

Christie Asencio can be contacted at c.asencio@umiami.edu

Thomasovitch, an ambitious first work by Travis Muir, is a book about a Princeton student, written by a Princeton student. Before I began this book, I was wary because of the stereotypes about pretentious Ivy League students. Alas, my fears were justified. Throughout the entire book Thomas Reed, the protagonist, and his family and friends, use frustratingly big words and unlikely speech. Muir claims to have written a book that will appeal to college students, yet I was continually irritated by the unrealistic language. The plot was no better; Thomasovitch is full of clichs about a tragically brilliant young man who coasts through academia and longs for something more challenging. Sure enough, Thomas feels pressured by his distant father, and hates the fast-paced business world of unhappy men in suits that he is destined to enter.

Right off the bat in the first chapter, Muir’s writing style is aggravating and distracting. This is how he described a scene in which Thomas is trying to pay attention in class but his friend, Johnson, keeps talking to him: “Class went on like this for some time, Johnson completely oblivious to the subtle warnings of his vessel ear, and Thomas growing evermore conscious of a desire to yield to the glances of the concentrating students around him, and silence his companion. Fortunately for him, however, the others around him were not inured to the more banal side of human interactions, and thus impeded the opening heart of their colleague with a sharp hiss. Johnson ceased speaking.” I don’t know if that’s how they really talk at Princeton, but this humble Miamian would’ve just said something like: Johnson was being annoying and everyone told him to shut up.

Every single component of this book, even down to the sound of a pen (now the “scuttle of a pen”), shouts that Muir is trying too hard. He also takes every opportunity to praise his school, as one character describes Princeton as the “most prestigious, most accomplished place” to be. It’s hard to enjoy a book where the author comes off as entirely too arrogant and hung up on his Ivy League status.

There was approximately one chapter in this book that I could relate to. Thomas goes home for winter break his freshman year and spends an evening at a Christmas party with his entire extended family. Every single relative bombards him with non stop questions such as “What are you studying?”, “What are you going to do with your life?” etc. At this point, I identify with Thomas, as I know how frustrating it is to feel constantly pressured to figure out the rest of your life.

Thankfully, this was a fast reading novel, and before I knew it, Thomas had gone from freshman year to having graduated and entered the workforce. At one point, I felt bad for Thomas: it seemed that the only time he garnered some affection and approval from his father was by impressing one of his business partners with his manners. However, my pity quickly evaporated as the book neared its end by way of Thomas’ childish breakdown, whereupon all I felt was relief that I wouldn’t have to hear his overdone, self-absorbed complaining anymore.

Cristina Buccina can be contacted at c.buccina@umiami.edu.

Sex Sketchers, the new dirty game on the market, is causing a ruckus everywhere it lands. The game is made to be a component of, as the instructions say, “that other drawing game that rhymes with “Dictionary,” only this time the game gets to turn dirty. The silk black cards come in a deck with the top card proudly displaying the name in a font reminiscent of the Magic cards, but this time, a parental advisory warning explicit content is located in the bottom right corner. In a world full of nudity, profanity, and violence, parental advisories mean about as much as the promise of extra pickles at McDonald’s; however, one shuffle and, no joke, Sex Sketchers is dirty, shockingly dirty. The 100 cards in the deck are color-coded, parallel to real Pictionary cards. The categories and colors are broken down into yellow for people, places, or animals; blue for objects; beige for actions; green for difficult topics, and red for opening guessing by both teams. And holding back is not an option: each category is on the verge of busting with sexual slang, dirty medical terms and plain pornographic terminology. Terms such as “Spank the Monkey,” “Camel Toe,” and “Dominatrix” are littered all over the cards, but it’s the terms bound by the beige box that send anyone into a fit of giggles true to middle school style, when the opposite sex still had cooties. The game requires all the natural elements of Pictionary: teams, a dry erase board, dice, and of course the ultimate pressure, the timer. Aside from that Sex Sketchers does all the rest of the work, whether sober or slightly intoxicated (recommended), the cards provide endless hours of laughs. Listening to friends struggle to find the term to describe what seems to be what engulfed Miss Jackson’s exposed nipple during the Superbowl half-time show makes it to the top of the list of classic college moments. Play Sex Sketchers for some good fun but mind the warning on the website, “should not be played by Priests, Nuns, Saints, Pastors, Mormons, Monks, Jehovah Witnesses, and the faint of heart.” Add people who are squeamish about anything involving almost everyone’s favorite topic, sex, because these cards are just plain vulgar.

Joanna Davila can be contacted at j.davila1@umiami.edu.

~Dirty Minds, Dirty Cards

~Cards make people think like “Porn Star[s]”

~Intimate Sketches