In most towns, a blog about transportation would be a snore, but this is Miami. Our shared frustration over the simple task of getting from point A to point B makes our blood boil and unites us all in common ire, for our inane transport system might be the single biggest hurdle preventing the Magic City from becoming a truly world-class town. Surprisingly, it's an issue that often finds itself on the back burner among Miami's media. Thankfully there's Transit Miami, which has been churning out posts on everything from crosswalks to major Department of Transportation projects since 2006. It's transportation-activist talk made accessible to the average man, and its multiple contributors take into account the perspectives of everyone from drivers to pedestrians. In a world where blogging is now dominated by the need for traffic (the profitable web variety), it's nice to know there's a blog out there more interested in vehicular traffic.

Miami is America's dance music capital, so it only makes sense the Magic City should be home to one of dance music's biggest voices — even if he hit the scene less than a year ago. EDMSnob may be a newcomer, but for more than 25,000 followers, he's already one of the most respected sources for music, news, and commentary in the game. Even better, he's funny, from snapping on scene kids — "I swear there's like a bro checklist for music festivals. Dumbass tank top? Check. Flat-bill hat? Check." — to making fun of his ex-girlfriend for stealing his Spotify password to embarrass him with lots of trap. The Snob, AKA Albert Berdellans, was once a mysterious figure, but he recently outed himself to accept the crown as king of the uhntz-ing masses. He's also behind the official @ultramusic Twitter feed, so you know he's got his connects up. The Snob keeps Twitter flooded with hot tunes, new and old, and he's great at interacting with fans. Give him a shout, tell him what you like and what you don't, and stay tuned for the cutting edge of what's what in EDM.

Just when you were ready to knock out the next group of fools filming a "Harlem Shake" video, along came your world champion Miami Heat with its own epic version of the viral dance craze. And it was glorious. The 56-second clip begins with tattooed rebounding freak of nature Chris "Birdman" Andersen hopping and flapping his arms through the Heat's locker room as his teammates stretch out for what appears to be a home game. And then the bass drops and the camera cuts to an awesome sight: four-time league MVP LeBron James — shirtless, a velvet royal cape on his back, and a crown on his head — twerking it like an extra on the set of Magic Mike. Behind him, his partner-in-clowning Dwyane Wade sports a form-fitting red two-piece suit, no shirt, and a massive bear head, channeling his inner furry. Chris Bosh stomps around in a cowboy hat and a gold boombox, while Shane Battier pops and locks in a Horstranaut costume. Team captain Udonis Haslem does a Texas two-step with a black fireman's hat on his head and a wrestling championship belt around his waist. The video showed the world that the Heat, at the time looking to capture a second straight NBA title, knows how to cut loose and have fun playing a boy's game. Whether you hate or love the Miami Heat, you couldn't help but watch the clip, which has generated 44 million views and counting on YouTube.

Filmmaker magazine called it "brilliantly inventive and mischievous." The Huffington Post called it "a delightfully frenetic, sly romp through multiple planes of space and time." Deadspin called it "better than all of the drugs." Sounds like Miami filmmaking at its finest. When Bleeding Palm and Borscht Corp. unleashed Adventures of Christopher Bosh in the Multiverse onto unsuspecting Magic City audiences in December, it made headlines. National news organizations took notice when lawyers for Bosh and the NBA sent cease-and-desist letters trying to block the film from being shown. But after the Borscht Film Festival (and its sister event, the Bosh Film Festival) came and went, the film's buzz went with them. That's mostly because audiences just didn't have the right vocabulary to describe it to their friends, short of "Space Prince," "internet," and "holy mind-blowing shitballs, what did I just watch?" Thanks be to the internet gods that Borscht and Bleeding Palm released the film on Vimeo for free several months later, telling the mystic legend of Chris Bosh's 2011 NBA finals performance and Mike Miller's stunning three-point shots, and even explaining the motivations of the Miami Zombie — and exposing the world to Miami movie madness in the process. You can't describe this film to anyone. You can't casually lay out what it's about. This is a movie that refuses to be summarized. But listen: It has Chris Bosh and Mike Miller. It has artist Jillian Mayer as an evil queen. It has Bleeding Palm's freaky neon aesthetic. It's well worth the 11 minutes you'll spend watching it. Hell, it's worth the full days you'll spend afterward deconstructing it in your mind. It's the most potent hallucinogenic substance to ever come out of Miami, and it's 100 percent legal. So take a trip, and remember: All life is real.

Carolina Garcia-Aguilera is not only an author but also a private investigator. And for more than 25 years, she's tracked and busted the wiliest of evildoers throughout the tri-county area. In 1986, when she took the job fresh out of college, she already knew it would form the basis for a mystery series featuring a Miami-based female PI. Seven books later, her Lupe Solano books are a hit in hardcover, paperback, and e-book formats in 12 languages. Her seventh novel, One Hot Summer, was adapted as a Lifetime movie, plus she has two other books to her credit. The latest by Garcia, who resides in Miami Beach, is titled Magnolia and is published by Books & Books. It's a lust-filled romp through the life of a high-priced "sports geisha" (translation: hooker for athletes), and her adventures at the intersection of G-strings and jock straps.

The Vagabond

When it comes to spoken word, beat poetry, and all-around coolness, Marcus Blake is the man. He does it with the grace and flair of Billy Dee Williams, Bob Marley, and Miles Davis. As the face of the Tuesday-night open mike, impromptu beatnik get-together Stone Groove at the Vagabond, Blake busts out the sharpest duds. "When it comes to fashion, I have always been in my own lane for as long as I can remember," Blake rhapsodizes. "Finding your own sense of style comes easy when you be yourself and not follow trends." His outfits dazzle, but with subtlety. He'll accessorize a casual short-sleeve button-down shirt and a pair of comfortable khakis with black latex gloves and shiny brass bangles. Watch him pay homage to Miami Vice by donning white trousers, a white shirt, and white loafers paired with a pastel-colored floral print sports coat and a thick gold rope chain. "I like to wear colorful clothing and all, but I don't need a designer telling me what's in style for the season and what color I should dress with," Blake says confidently. "I find it more practical to follow my own seasonal fashion radar."

The David Rivera campaign scandal was not only a mind-boggling blunder of mammoth proportions but also sheer madness. As it unfolded, Rivera's tale read like a piece of heavy-handed political fiction, something from an episode of House of Cards. Rivera's insane or inane corruption ranged from creating a dummy Democratic campaign to running a Cutler Bay hotel night worker, Justin Lamar Sternad, as a straw-man candidate. The plot became ever stranger. He even funded Sternad with more than 81 grand in illegal, under-the-table contributions, all in order to take votes away from Rivera's actual Democratic rival, Joe Garcia, who won anyway. David, did it not compute that this was possibly one of the most moronic pieces of political espionage since Watergate? Perhaps you simply felt you should represent the proud constituency of Miami. In any case, your masterful piece of inept skulduggery and half-crazed ambition was our number one! Congrats, caballero!

There are scant reasons for anyone in Florida to ever feel jealous of Texas, which outperforms the Sunshine State only in executions, cow patties, and cowboy hats. That's why it hurt so badly to admit the truth: Until this year, Florida was the largest state in the union never to have elected an openly gay legislator to state office. Even the Lone Star State broke that barrier back in the early 1990s. Enter freshly minted Rep. David Richardson, who beat three opponents to snag a seat that opened up in Miami Beach when Richard Steinberg stepped down after a sexy text-message scandal. Richardson, along with a fellow freshman from Orlando, became Tally's first out LGBT face. He hasn't rested on that achievement alone either, using his platform to fight for a foster care bill that would offer greater protections to gay kids and earning awards from groups like SAVE Dade for his advocacy.

When it comes to redemption stories, Kat Stacks dug herself a hole deeper than most. The bubble-breasted hip-hop groupie made her name by bedding just about every rapper to have ever set foot in South Florida and then bashing those same rappers in videos posted on YouTube. Gudda Gudda "pees on the bottom bunk," she revealed. And the Young Money Entertainment rap crew members are apparently some "dirty-ass-carpet-living-ass apartment" dudes. She was also arrested on grand-theft and concealed-weapons charges back in 2009. But in the past six months, Stacks has shed some of her prickly hip-hop persona. Stacks, whose real name is Andrea Herrera, recently revealed that her road to becoming a foul-mouthed rapper's nemesis wasn't exactly voluntary. Instead, she was forced into stripping and prostitution at age 14 until her pimp impregnated her. Stacks also became an unlikely advocate for immigration reform when she was arrested at the Nashville airport and nearly deported to Venezuela, where she was born. But when the judge found out about her horrific childhood, he took pity on her. "Shout outs to all my #DREAMers !!" she tweeted after her release. "Stand together to achieve Justice!" She even hosted a Twitter forum about immigration reform. Stacks now says her days of sleeping around are over, and she is penning a book on her bizarre, border-breaking, booty-popping, rapper-roasting life. "Damn, is the world ready?" one of her half-million Twitter followers recently asked. Her reply: "They better buckle up."

Few nuclear-powered rockets originate in tiny South Miami City Hall, a strip-mall-size edifice wedged between South Dixie Highway and Sunset Drive. But that's the unlikely launching pad for the Tea Party-wooing, Charlie Crist-dismantling, immigration-reforming, cheerleader-marrying, GOP-slaying cruise missile that goes by the name of Marco Rubio. Just a little more than a decade ago, Rubio was a fresh-faced lawyer on the tiny municipality's commission. Then came an election to the Florida House, the crafty ascent to speaker, and the stunning coup de grâce: The shocking 2010 beatdown of Crist to represent the Sunshine State in the U.S. Senate. Since then, Rubio has taken on the mantle of the Republican's Great Brown Hope, a Hispanic face who can talk about immigration without scaring the base. And he's an early favorite to snag a presidential nomination in 2016. Time magazine made it official this past February, gracing its cover with a stark portrait of Rubio and a headline that said it all: "The Republican Savior."

Best Of Miami®

Best Of Miami®