Most Popular
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Kill Gus Boulis's Killer?
Paul Brandreth didn't want to murder anybody. Or did he?
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Silly Wabbit
So a guy in a bunny suit walks into a bar ...
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Mayor of the Nude Beach
So he's naked and in his seventies. He's still the coolest guy you'll ever meet.
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Vamos a Cuba!
Join us as we try to hitch a ride to the island before the gold rush strikes.
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Sarnoff Turns His Back on Blacks
Coconut Grove's other half feels left out.
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Sarnoff Turns His Back on Blacks (20)
Coconut Grove's other half feels left out.
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Sarnoff Shmarnoff (14)
Commissioner Marc's claim to a famous bloodline just might be fiction.
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City Hall Stinks (58)
There's a war on Dinner Key, and Marc Sarnoff is a bomb-thrower.
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Mayor of the Nude Beach (5)
So he's naked and in his seventies. He's still the coolest guy you'll ever meet.
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The Reporter and the Tranny (4)
He kissed her, um, him, and that was only the beginning.
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La India, Pitbull, and Menudo ...
Celebrate Carnaval Miami at Little Havana's Calle Ocho.
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Pick Up and Go
Blue Martini is maybe a good place to meet a significant other. But first listen to the stories they tell.
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The Prodigal Piano Man
Johnny Rodgers plays his hometown a song.
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As Nastie as They Wanna Be
This wrestling makes that Ultimate stuff look wimpy.
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Miami Movement
Our guide to the 15th annual Caribbean Festival.
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Now The Battle Begins: Blu-ray At Center of Console War
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The Party Crasher - Vanessa Minnillo and Brody Jenner Team Up for “Rally at the Raleigh”
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Coral Gables Snake-like Mayor
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SXSW Guest Blog: Rachel Goodrich, Torche, Ash Grundwald
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Guest SXSW Blog: The Wedding Present, Van Morrison, Kreamy 'Lectric Friends, R.E.M., and more
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The Cool Kids+Black Punk Done Right
09:00PM 03/14/08
What we are writing about
- Art Basel
- Arturo Sandoval Jazz Club
- Carnival Center
- Coconut Grove
- Coral Gables
- downtown Miami
- Fillmore Miami Beach
- Fort Lauderdale
- Francisco Goya
- Freedom Tower
- Hugo Chávez
- In the Continuum
- John Timoney
- Julia Tuttle Causeway
- Karen Kilimnik
- Marc Sarnoff
- Miami-Dade County Library
- Miami-Dade County...
- Miami Beach
- Miami local art
- Miami local music
- Miami local theater
- Museum of Contemporary...
- Patrick Williams
- sex offenders
- South Beach
- South Miami
- Studio A
- Wii
- Xbox
Recent Articles By Elyse Wanshel
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As Nastie as They Wanna Be
This wrestling makes that Ultimate stuff look wimpy.
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Pick Up and Go
Blue Martini is maybe a good place to meet a significant other. But first listen to the stories they tell.
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Greatest Show on Earth
A real circus comes to Miami Beach.
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Zombies Storm South Beach
Lincoln Road is the scene for the living dead.
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Raw Meat
A movie with lots of porn and some weirdness glows at Churchill's.
National Features
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Phoenix New Times
Canine Crusaders
That drug-sniffing dog up ahead? He may not be your best friend.
By Ray Stern -
Broward-Palm Beach New Times
The Muscle Men
Thanks to a string of Florida "anti-aging clinics," baseball's steroid scandal isn't limited to superstars.
By Michael J. Mooney -
Village Voice
"Why I'm No Longer a Brain-Dead Liberal"
An election-season essay from one of America's greatest playwrights.
By David Mamet
Hangin' with Henrietta
Continued from page 1
Published: November 22, 2007"That's some fabulous jewelry," I say, noticing the matching pendant around her neck.
"I only wear the real, genuine things," she replies and then busts out a story about meeting Gianni Versace at Club Deuce (222 14th St., Miami Beach). "I was in Versace's book modeling when he first came to Miami. When he first saw me, he told me: 'Wow, you're really Art Deco.' I'd go to his house nearby just for a party and I'd make homemade lasagna. He was always so thrilled."
Then I feel someone grab my lady-junk. I jump a little and glimpse a dancer's waxed bare ass on the stage. He pulls up his Speedo, presses himself against a wall, and begins humping it. Next my butt is being caressed. I turn around to find the banana-hammock mafia congregated behind me. About five of them stand there, giggling.
"What's your fascination with my ass?" I ask.
"Well, it was out there," says a beefy, thick-necked one.
I turn back and attempt to continue my conversation with Henrietta. A smaller, dark-haired stripper, with tattoos that creep up his biceps and spill onto his chest, isn't about to let that happen. He puts his arm around Henrietta and begins massaging the back of my neck with his free hand. After we ignore him for several minutes, he walks away.
"A lot of them, you know, are prostitutes on the side," Henrietta says and then pauses. "You want any of their numbers?"
