Daily Archives: June 18, 2021

When I tell people I'm going to a naked resort in Jamaica, they respond as though I've just revealed my salary or the details of my last menstruation. It's a long blink or a visible shift backward in their seat. Several ask, after a pause, "Are you a naked person?"

I don't know. What's a naked person? A naked person probably owns more beads than I do, just beaded necklaces every day. A naked person probably sleeps with crystals under her pillow to ward off negative stuff and leaves candles burning and pees with the door open. I think I'm naked the appropriate amount. I'm naked in locker rooms and in front of my friends when we're getting dressed and in front of sexy friends when we're not. A naked person? Me? It's relative.

I watch as they cram into the bar, probably casually touching their genitals to each others thigh areas.

But I decide to go to Hedonism II in Negril, Jamaicaa clothing-optional resort that bills itself as "the world's most iconic adult playground"because they invite me and I'm devoted to having experiences. I'm a professional experience-haver.

At the front desk, the receptionist gets me a Red Stripe beer and asks if it's my first time to "Hedo," as everyone calls it. Yep! "So you're a virgin," he says with an eyebrow up. First time to Jamaica? Yes. "A double virgin!" Oh god. So this is where I am.

Courtesy Hedonism II

There are two sides to the resort: the prude side (where you can be naked) and the nude side (where you must be nakeda policy put in place to stop fully dressed creeps from coming over just to stare). My room is on the nude end, with a little deck that lets out onto the sand and the Caribbean sea, which means that my view will include the unadorned masses. A mirror on the ceiling captures me sleeping alone.

When I roll over in the morning, I'm greeted by two flaccid dicks and the dawn. My next-door neighbors, who are gay men or maybe just naked man friends, are strolling the beach together outside my sliding-glass door. I go to yoga (clothed) and breakfast (also clothed; it's a health violation otherwise). In the omelet line I meet the guy I sat next to in yoga. "That was really a great practice, huh?" he says, trying to engage. I nod and devote my entire gaze to the eggs. I'm not ready to make friends yet. What kind of people even come here?

Like a wuss, I start the vacation proper by reading in a hammock on the prude side. But then it starts to rain, so I rush back toward my roomat the same time everyone else on the nude side also dashes for cover. Forty to 50 middle-aged naked people are running to the beach bar for shelter. I stand on my deck watching the rain and their 80 to 100 butt cheeks all in a row as they cram into the bar, chatting and laughing and probably casually touching their genitals to each other's thigh areas.

It's around then that I start making some fresh observations about the human form. Men naturally have more muscular butts; their default is toned, even as they get older, which is so unfair. Most women just look like their torsos were sliced toward the bottom. We also all have the same roll of fat below our belly buttons, provided by God and Darwin to protect the uterus, and it casts a shadow over our crotch. For all the mental and financial and cultural effort put into maintaining the pubic-hair trend du jour, you can't even really see what women are doing down there unless you're at close range. Nature put in a portico.

When the rain blows over, I decide to wade into the proverbial waters of my own nakedness. I start by just hanging out on my patio topless with a bikini bottom on, which is easy. Topless is basically my preferred state of affairs already. Then I inch out further, past my deck, so I'm sitting on a lounge chair in just bottoms and a large, floppy, necessary-not-just-for-privacy-but-for-sun-protection hat. I am armed also with my favorite kind of book, a hefty 500-page novel about college kids coming of age. After sitting still for around four minutes, I rip off my bikini bottoms quickly, like I'm about to pee behind a tree.

No one so much as shifts their gaze. I'm naked in public by myself. There are beach breezes alighting on areas of my skin that have never felt breezes before.

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I wade into the actual water, a turquoise sea that is partitioned off so people from nearby resorts can't make marathon snorkeling treks over to gawk. A little yellow plastic island floats toward a deeper end, so I swim out to it and then climb up. I lie on my back in the sun like a cat, or maybe a seal, in view of the entire resort or any low-circling airplanes. It's a kind of peace and relief I didn't know I could feel.

My deck also offers a private hot tub, and I'm sitting in the bubbling water alone watching the sunset with a champagne flute when a muscular man and his penis walk by. I'm admiring it when he pivots toward me and asks if I would like to get dinner with him and his girl tonight? A bemused "sure" falls out of my drowsy, sunburned face. What the hell have I just done?, I wonder as he saunters away.

I lie on my back naked in the sun in view of the entire resort. Its a kind of peace I didnt know I could feel.

Getting ready for this date resembles how I get ready for others: shower and blast Beyonc and text my friends about what could go right and wrong. Dressed and wearing what I think is the right amount of makeup for Jamaican humidity, I head to our meeting spot at the bar, where a woman in a pageboy wig and a dress cut to her belly button comes up to me immediately and says my name. It's my date! We head to the Italian restaurant on the property and settle in. Come here often?

The couple tells me some things. They met while in a threesomehe was dating her friend and she stole him away but all three people are cool now! They've been together for eight years but aren't in any rush to get married. He has a school-aged daughter from a previous relationship, she has a son in law school. They've been to Hedonism a few times, not so much for the swinging but for the thrill of public sex and nudity. They ask me about my romantic life and career, and are more engaged in my answers than most dates I've ever had.

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I feel extremely comfortable with these middle-aged people. They ask what I want out of the trip, and I tell them about my quest to find out if I'm a naked person, how I feel very comfortable being naked thus far. They agree: "That's why we asked you to dinner. We really admired your confidence on the beach. And your pubic hair situation." Sure.

At the end of the meal, I feel those nerves that I get at the end of any first date. How do I end this and is the person going to kiss me and do I want them to? But the couple announces they are going back to their room to fuck. It's casual, like someone begging off because they're tired. I wish them well and, fortified with four to six strawberry daiquiris, I attend the resort's Tuesday-night theme party alone: the Bare As You Dare Glow Pool Party. Black lights are lit and glow sticks are distributed and I take off my dress and dance around sans any creepers. This is fun.

My dinner companions fly home the next morning, which is kind of a relief. Were we going to be buddies at the buffet every day? I wake up feeling like the college party girl I never quite was, with glow-in-the-dark necklaces and blinking rings in my sheets and empty strawberry-scented glasses on my nightstand. Everything hurts.

I consider stand-up paddle boarding but that seems like a huge effort, so I embark on my other goals for the trip: reading for hours without interruption or responsibility, and taking a napnakedin publicin a foreign country. I figure it's the most vulnerable a human woman can possibly be. After a morning spent reading and snoozing and reading and snoozing, I realize that some of the other women here have even better ideasI observe two separate women receiving cunnilingus.

We really admired your confidence on the beach. And your pubic hair situation.

One couple is on a lounge chair about three over from mine, the guy kneeling in the sand to do the damn thing. With the other pair, the woman is truly aspirational: She floats on a pool raft in the shallow sea, naked facing the sun, while a guy stands in the water in front of her going to work. They have to stop because the small waves keep smacking him in the face, making his task a bit dangerous, but what a hero! The woman, I mean.

Do they want me to watch? They must. So I do, behind my sunglasses. I walk back up to my patio for some water to find that my next-door neighbors are having sex on theirs, maybe 18 inches from my door. They're standing in their hot tub, with the woman bent over the edge. It's kind of like hearing your roommates have sex but worse because you can see them and hear their conversation when they discuss whether or not to stop because she's a little sore from last night.

Courtesy of Hedonism II

At dinner, I receive no invites from well-hung couples, but a hostess for the Japanese restaurant on the property automatically seats me with two lesbian couples. I learn that two of the women are sisters, and this is their first family trip. Who kicks off a tradition of sister vacations by going to a sex resort? Even I have my limits.

The next morning is my final morning. I take a final naked swim and pack up all the clothes I didn't wear. My shuttle to the airport is shared with a strikingly attractive young couple. The wife looks exactly like Dakota Johnson and seems to be about her age. She's bleeding from one of her scratched-up knees. "Babe, what the fuck did we do last night?" This is their sixth trip to Hedo, they tell me. She and I discuss how strange it is to be wearing bras again, but how it's necessary in what will likely be a freezing cold airport. "Well, she's not wearing underwear, so the vacation's still going," says the husband, poking her in the crotch of her jean shorts with one finger. She bops him on the shoulder but laughs.

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Somehow none of it is weird. The best part of Hedonism isn't the penises or the all-inclusive drinks or the spying on other couples or the Caribbean breezes felt on nipplesnot any of the lascivious or lurid stuff. What's nicest is just how easy and relaxed everybody is about all of the above. One level of pretense falls away and small talk becomes less small. It's that sensation of finding your people and thus not having to pretend. It's happened to me before; like when I matriculated at a women's college and found myself surrounded by 1,500 ambitious Hermione Grangertypes, or when I find out the person I'm talking to is also from New Jersey.

It's a common language, a sigh from the soul, the feeling that you have so much to say you can't get the words out fast enough. Are naked people my people? Oh god.

They're without the weight of propriety, expectation, the need to hold in their stomachs.

When I get home, everyone wants to hear the outrageous stories I might provide. And I'll share them (I'm sharing them now), but I hesitate to laugh because those people had something the rest of us don't: an openness, an honesty, a lightness of being. They are quite literally lightenedvia the absence of clothing's weightbut also without the weight of propriety, expectation, pleasantries, small talk, the need to hold in their stomachs. They are calmer, and happier. What's there to make fun of? I wish I could be like that all the time.

"Welcome home," the man at Hedonism's front desk had said when I arrived, and I rolled my eyes. But I get it a bit more now, all those repeat and repeat and repeat visitors. They want to feel free.

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Real Stories of Nudist Sex Resorts - Hedonism II in Negril ...

Throughout the GTA series, there are several questions without any definite answers. Players are still searching high and low to understand these elusive mysteries.

Given the open-world environment of the GTA universe, players are encouraged to explore. However, they may end up discovering clues that lead them on a wild journey. The Mount Chiliad mystery was a major one among GTA players, and some believe the Doomsday Heist solved it, while others aren't entirely convinced.

Nonetheless, there are secrets that lurk within the shadows of the GTA series. Players are often perplexed by these unsolved puzzles, since they don't have all the pieces together. Rockstar remains vague on many of these mysteries. They prefer the players to come to their own conclusions as to what happened.

Donald Love is a media tycoon with a penchant for human flesh and hedonism. He kills political rivals, instigates gang warfare and spreads widespread destruction to maintain power.

During the events of GTA 3, he instructs Claude to obtain a mysterious package and rescue an older gentleman. Once Claude completes his missions, however, Donald Love vanishes without a trace. In the aptly named Love's Disappearance, all Claude finds is the empty package. What happened to Love is unknown.

Rockstar refused to divulge any further information. GTA players speculate he may have been killed by a vengeful cartel, while others believe he fled Liberty City. It's one of the biggest early mysteries in the GTA series.

Aliens have been trending when it comes to conspiracy theories in GTA ever since the release of San Andreas. Top secret research in Area 69 suggest there is life beyond the reaches of this planet. .

GTA 5 has several references to this popular theory. These range from mind-boggling hallucinations to a frozen alien in the cold waters of North Yankton. GTA Online also has a resupply job where players can find a dead military force, presumably killed by aliens. It's a rare event that only takes place late at night.

Along with appearances from UFOs, the existence of extraterrestrial creatures seems to be all but confirmed. However, what remains unclear is the main objective of this mysterious race.

Out in the Eastern Pacific Ocean in GTA 5, players can use a submarine to explore the ocean depths. Both darkness and deep waters form a frightening combination; anything can be lurking beneath the backdrop. Players can find an underwater hatch, reminiscent of the famous one from the television show Lost.

Since the metallic structure is located right below the killzone, GTA players who swim too close will instantly die from the undersea pressure. During the evening, a bright light shines through the window, suggesting someone is inside. A few players claimed they could hear a morse code message.

Vice City often pays respectful homage to the classic 1983 movie, Scarface. One of the more disconcerning ones is Apartment 3c in Ocean Beach. There is a scene in Scarface where Tony Montana almost gets killed in a dangerous trap, but not before his friend is brutally dismembered with a chainsaw.

In a direct reference, Apartment 3c also contains a chainsaw and a bloodied interior bathroom. This location never shows up in the main storyline, which means players can accidentally walk right into a murder scene.

It can be an unsettling experience for first-time players since no explanation is given as to what happened. The mafia is presumably involved, but this murder is otherwise a mystery.

Merle Abrahams was a psychotic man with an unhealthy obsession: the number eight and the infinity symbol. Dubbed the Infinity Killer, he was charged with the murder of eight hikers in 1999. However, he died five years later, denying his involvement in those grisly murders.

There are too many unresolved plot threads in this GTA 5 storyline. Original news reports suggest the victims were male. However, GTA players can search the sea to find female bodies instead, wrapped in plastic. They can also find the same in the Cayo Perico heist, although it could also be an Easter egg.

It's entirely possible that the Infinity Killer is still out there or a copycat is committing the same crimes. Needless to say, Merle Abrahams was a disturbed individual with an unstable mind.

Note: This article reflects the writer's personal views.

See more here:

5 unexplained mysteries in the GTA series - Sportskeeda

The BBC has banned many songs over the years for being of a controversial nature, but none have been done more infamously than the blacklisting of Frankie Goes To Hollywoods Relax.

The track was a celebration of hedonism and living life on the edge. There was no filter on Relax, which didnt sit right with the powers that be in 1984. Broadcasters were disgusted by the unapologetic attitude that Frankie Goes To Hollywood proudly showed off on the track. The fact the group featured two homosexual men amplified the furore tenfold. However, no one got angrier with the song than BBC Radio 1 DJ Mike Read, who had no reservations about telling the nation his issues with Relax in a bizarre on-air rant.

The track is full of sexual innuendo, and in America, they were either oblivious or didnt care. However, in Britain, Relax caused a minefield of problems, which, of course, Frankie Goes To Hollywood had targeted but nothing on the scale of what took place. They created an ad campaign in the British music press, which played into homosexual stereotypes and contained puns that left little to the imagination.

The first ad featured images of the bands Paul Rutherford wearing just a sailor cap and a leather vest. Meanwhile, Holly Johnson donned a pair of rubber gloves. The images also featured the phrase, ALL THE NICE BOYS LOVE SEA MEN, and stated, Frankie Goes to Hollywood are coming making Duran Duran lick the shit off their shoes Nineteen inches that must be taken always. The second ad promised theories of bliss, a history of Liverpool from 1963 to 1983, a guide to Amsterdam bars.

Sexually promiscuous lines such as, Relax, dont do it When you want to go to it, Relax, dont do it, When you want to come, Relax, dont do it, When you want to suck it, chew it. As the track was the bands debut single, they decided to be as audacious as possible to grab peoples attention. However, a ban was the last thing they wanted, and it could have had a cataclysmic impact on their career.

It was number three in the charts when Mike Read suddenly lifted the needle, denounced Relax as obscene, and refused to play it again. Unbeknown to Read, the BBC was already planning on blacklisting the track for the same reasons.

If the group didnt feature two openly gay men talking about sex in this way, and instead, they were straight, its hard to imagine that the BBC would have acted in such a strong manner. The fact that they werent ashamed of their sexuality shocked those in power, who tried their hardest to pour scorn on the track.

In those days, radio held the keys to the music kingdom and Frankie Goes To Hollywood could have found themselves in deep trouble. Yet the uproar around the track only heightened demand, record stores all around the country sold out of copies, and it eventually rose to the top spot in the charts.

While the public clamoured for the track, Holly Johnson even appeared on TV alongside an executive from Radio 1 who explained to the singer he thought the lyrics were objectionable and felt it could offend the majority of our listening audience.

A composed Johnson then replies, only someone with a mind of a sewer could find them obscene. Johnson was upset by his bands coverage, and he was genuinely fearful that Frankie Goes To Hollywood would never recover from the adverse publicity.

The fact that the track still managed to rise to the top of the charts is a testament to the strength of Relax and shows that most people didnt find it objectionable after all. Frankie Goes To Hollywood stuck to their guns with the track, and they ended up reaping the rewards for staying true to themselves.

Continue reading here:

Why the BBC banned Frankie Goes To Hollywoods Relax which celebrated homosexual love - Far Out Magazine

Londons spiritual haven, The Mandrake, has reopened in style, and everybody can all indulge in all its remedial glory. The leafy Fitzrovia kingdom has announced three new offerings designed to ease travelers into the world once again whilst surrounded by some of the most ambient interiors in the city.

The Evergreen Evening, Soul Revival, and The Artisanal Experience are the aptly-named new hotel services that transport guests to faraway landscapes amid the hustle of the British capital.

It seems we werent the only ones who got busy with a modern home makeover project over lockdown, as The Mandrake similarly revealed a range of new experiences that are a sensory treat for culinary and design lovers alike. Because at this hotel, the decor is just as delicious as the menu.

(Image credit: The Mandrake)

The Evergreen Evening, which is curated for nature enthusiasts, offers guests dinner at Jurema or in a botanic-filled greenhouse, home to medicinal plants from across the world. While the Soul Revival Package is an overnight revival package led by healing practitioners, and The Artisanal Experience draws primarily from the arty decor of the cabanas.

The Mandrakes founder Rami Fustok invited four artists, including IT Spain and Iris Brosch, to elevate the space and bring Jurema inside. The artists created a cocktail of textures, patterns, and hues to create a breathing space where guests can lose themselves.

(Image credit: The Mandrake)

See: Mural walls are going to be everywhere this season 3 ways to style the trend in your home

Plus, while we take notes on The Mandrakes new interiors, were equally interested in its exterior design and even more importantly its ability to epitomize indoor/outdoor living the 5 star way.

Beyond the kaleidoscopic cabanas, the hotels curative menu is equally enjoyed in The Jurema, the evergreen terrace area which draws from the beauty of the Mandrake plant and combines its tropical allure with Londons metropolitan charm.

(Image credit: The Mandrake)

The new offerings further emphasize The Mandrakes signature juxtaposition of dark and light through hedonism and healing by offering an unrivaled sanctuary for travelers to relax, party, and delve into every experience in between.

(Image credit: The Mandrake)

Although our lights have been dimmed over these past few months, The Mandrake invites one and all to come and shine with us once again, Rami explains. We are reopening with extraordinary color and energy, offering an inspiring destination for our guests to celebrate togetherness, to celebrate living, and to continue growing our own universe at The Mandrake.'

'From nature lovers to spiritual souls and creative minds, we welcome guests to The Mandrake to once again feel inspired and energized,' he adds.

(Image credit: The Mandrake)

See: 4 steps to creating a Michelin-worthy dining room atmosphere at home

Discover more about the new well-being spaces and reserve your place on The Mandrake website. This also leads to more information about The Jurema restaurant.

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This London hotel is offering guests a well-being experience in a beautiful interior designed sanctuary - LivingEtc

Motley Crue bassist Nikki Sixx has promised readers a deeper look at his early lifewith an all-new memoir, the upcoming The First 21: How I Became Nikki Sixx.

The book will detail the musician's formative era indeed, his first 21 years before the times of rock star hedonism highlighted in his 2007 tome, The Heroin Diaries. In 2011, Sixx authored the photography-focusedThis Is Gonna Hurt.But The First 21 will delve evenfurtherinto the Motley Crue member's history.

"You've heard the tales of excess and debauchery," Sixx offered in a press release of "all the peaks and the valleys that came with rock 'n' roll stardom and my life in one of the world's biggest bands."

The First 21 represents "the story that you haven't heard," the rocker continued, "the one that led up to those stories. It's the intimate, personal story of how an innocent Idaho farm boy with a burning dream and desire for music, for love and for fame became the notorious Nikki Sixx. I believe our first 21 years have a lot to do with shaping who we become. These are my first 21, and it's my hope that they will thrill and inspire you to invest in your own biggest dreams."

Publisher Mary Ann Naples added, "Whether you're a Motley Crue and Nikki Sixx fan or not, if you're looking for a memoir that transports you back to the '70s and early '80s, and that, for those who lived it, will reacquaint you with the vinyl collection your parents threw out in the '90s, then this is your book. And the larger themes of getting to know who you are and taking control of your identity certainly resonate now in the still-new 2020s."

The First 21arrives on Oct. 19 via Hachette Books. Pre-orders are available now at thefirst21book.com.

Loudwire's picks for the best rock + metal albums of 2021 so far

More here:

Nikki Sixx to Go Behind the 'Excess and Debauchery' in Memoir About His Youth - Loudwire

Late in 2020, Ojayy Wright put out Fuji Pop, a clear signal of his growth as an artist and, importantly, as a songwriter, using the sonic tells of Fuji music to create an extemporaneous anthem that was still rooted in the refined vibe of todays Afropop.

In that vein, Ojayys just-released project, Commander-In-Chief, is a natural continuation of his path from Fuji Pop and sees Ojayy self-mythologise over pulsating beats retro-fitted to his fizzing voice.

Within the 7-track project, Fuji Pop sounds immaculate as Tenis tributes to old masters like King Wasiu Ayinde Marshal and Alabi Pasuma compliment Ojayys bubbly verse. A more textured showing on Money Calling, sees him own up to his hedonism and all that it brings over a plucked mid-tempo instrumental.

A collaboration with another griot Bad Boy Timz on Duro produces the kind of vibey music that populated Ojayys debut project, 37 Degrees In Lagos while the titular track has hints of introspection to find meaning of his place in the world and what it means for his loved ones.

The lower half of Commander-In-Chief is packed with low-burning would-be love anthems like Erika, a flamenco-tinged ballad that showed another portal to Ojayys artistry while closer, Ave Marie, produced by Spellz is warm footnote on a project that has a bit of all we need.

LISTEN: https://ojayy-wright.ffm.to/commanderinchief

Read more from the original source:

Ojayy Wright Features Teni And Badboy Timz On Commander-in-Chief E.P - Guardian