The heat was off the charts this weekend and we are fully into the summer season. Everyone talks about the summer lull that happens every year as tourists avoid the city due to the hurricanes and humidity. Well it seems like Miami didn't get the memo as events keep attracting sizable crowds.

SummerFest 2008 at the BankAtlantic Center

Lil' Wayne, Keyshia Cole and Akon heated things up Saturday night at Sunrise. SummerFest brought together some of hip-hop and R&B's up-and-coming acts with plenty of artists whose star wattage is off the charts.

I love aspartame. I love it so much that I used to inhale entire packs of Extra. As soon as they lost a smidgen of flavor, I’d pop in another stick. And another. A few hours later, I’d be surrounded by a heap of silver gobs and an empty pack. In desperate moments, I’d re-chew the gobs. (I know -- grossly out-of-control.) My stomach would gurgle for hours later. That couldn’t be healthy.

About two years ago, I swore myself (or at least tried) from aspartame after a friend’s neurologist recommended she steer clear of it. It’s been hard. It’s in so many fake foods I love: Diet Coke, Crystal Light, sugar-free butterscotch JELL-O. Full disclosure: I allow myself at least one dose a month. It usually comes in the form of a Diet Coke.

All Miami yogis who are hip to the scene know about The Standard’s regular Friday soiree, H2-Om. I headed there last night, as this was the om-fest’s big night – three years in the making – ode to the Miami Yoga community.

The shtick of the evening was the attendance of the Hare Krishnas from the Grove. They were there to pump some life into the scene, and it definitely worked – the place was so packed you could hardly move. Some had to bail because there just wasn’t enough room. No complaints here, as I strive to get close and sweaty with as many people as possible.

If you’re not familiar with the Krishnas, they are the ones who parade around the beach chanting (you guessed it) Hare Krishna. Once you get past the freak factor, you realize that this is a very cool cohesive crew. They led the evening’s Kirtan (where everyone sits around and chants). I have to say that I realized last night that the Grove’s Krishnas are sort of sexy, but then again I could have been hallucinating from the heat. Well, that and I have really freaky taste in men.

When NBA commissioner David Stern walked up to the microphone last night and said, “With the second pick in the 2008 NBA draft the Miami Heat select…” there was a collective sphincter-clenching angst that shot across Heat Nation. “Oh shit,” we all thought breathlessly, “are we going to hear any other name besides Michael Beasley, and if so, are we allowed to riot immediately?” Would the Heat actually have their own version of the Miami Dolphins 2007 NFL Draft when, rather than taking a potential franchise quarterback, the Dolphins went with a one-legged punt-returner instead?

After weeks and days and hours of the gut-wrenching, edge of your seat, puke in somebody’s Cup-O-Noodles, bite your fingernails to the nub, can’t stand the suspense so I’ll just punch a random stranger in the gonads tension that Heat President Pat Riley put us through, he eventually eased all the useless anxiety and did the right thing by drafting our man Beasley. Yes, Riley had himself a serious man-crush on one OJ Mayo. But just as he almost inexplicably drafted Chris Kaman over Dwyane Wade in 2003 but ultimately made the right decision, Riley eventually came to his senses and took the right guy again last night. Why he chooses to do this to us is beyond me. What a well-coifed asshole.

It’s probably one of the most anticipated events of the summer, Gen Art’s Shop Miami 2008, an event that packs local designers and boutiques into the Moore Building in the Design District. The event featured three floors of shopping bliss that was sure to please every Miami fashionista.

Local labels and boutiques like Ecoist, OurFlyLives, Nazly Villamizar, KRELwear, Bogosse and Amaya Swimwear were just some of the participants at this year’s event. My only quip with the event was the poor selection of menswear. Out of all the vendors there, I could only spot two hawking clothing for men. Since shopping was out of the question, I had to resort to the next best thing – getting drunk. And how could I not? 10 Cane Rum and Baileys were there handing out free cocktails. After my third rum and Coke, I had forgotten that Shop Miami was, well, about shopping.

Miami documentarian Claudia Forestieri is on to something. Or, at least, she’s picked a juicy enough topic for her latest project - which dives into what she calls “the bi-sexy phenomenon.”

“A bi-sexy female is someone who is straight, but projects the image of bisexuality because it’s perceived as cool or attractive,” she says. “I compare it to breast implants ten years ago.”

The comparison makes sense: It’s a fake-out. It’s popular in the clubs. And it’s usually to snag attention from men.

Forestieri, who used to be a TV reporter for Telemundo, cites numbers to back up her theories about the social trend. According to the Center for Disease Control, women ages 18-25 who report having had a bisexual experience has tripled since 1990.

Monday, I went out to the White Room (1306 N Miami Ave., Miami) for its latest weekly party Exposure, a new venture by the same people who have brought you Spiderpussy for the last, oh, I don’t know how many years but plenty. Confined to the small red room at the front, the space was packed, which lead to the infernal temperature inside and the cloud of cigarette smoke that irritated my eyes. If that sounds like fun, have at it.

A Monday night is a pretty difficult night to get people to go out, but if they can keep bringing in people, there could finally be a suitable bar party to replace Damaged, one of my all-time favorite weeklies held every Wednesday the Mark (now closed).

Hey Coach Riley. Chris from the New Times here. Hi. Hello. How are you? Just wanted to drop you a note about tonight’s NBA Draft. If you’ve spent any time at all reading this here blog – and I know you haven’t – you know where I, dare I say we, stand on this whole Michael Beasley thing. You know, the kid with the 53.1 shooting percentage. The kid who averaged 26 points, 12.4 rebounds a game with a penchant for slamming each and every defense he faced right in the onions on a nightly basis. The kid who ranks higher than what Kevin Durant did this time last year. The kid that will be an unstoppable force in the NBA for years to come. You should totally draft that guy.

Remember how back in 2003 you wanted to draft Chris Kaman? There’s still a large contingent of Heat fans that think that was based on a dare. But it’s true. You seriously considered drafting the whitest man on earth. And while there’s nothing wrong with that per say (actually, unless he’s Larry Bird, yea there is), he’s not Dwyane Wade. Not by a long shot. The glory that was the 2006 season would have never happened. No Shaq in a Heat uniform, no Finals, no 15 Strong, no champagne, no parade down Brickell Avenue, no awkward white-guy dance in front of thousands forever immortalized on YouTube. Yet, you came to your senses and drafted D-Wade instead. And everything was rainbows and unicorns after that. Remember that? That was awesome.

When it seems like I've exhausted all of Wynwood, I stumble upon this mural along NW 6th Avenue. I slammed on my brakes and sat in my car for a minute thinking, "How the hell could I have missed this?" It was enormous, wrapping around a property that took up the entire block.

If the rumors are true that Pat Riley is lukewarm about drafting Michael Beasley, then perhaps Shawn Marion can help sort things out. Thanks to Marion’s choosing not to opt out of his contract last night, Riley suddenly has two major trade chips tucked in his $3,000 Armani suit pocket. He’s got Marion and he’s got the number two overall pick.

Let’s start the insanity.

One of the latest rumors has the Heat trading Marion and the number 2 pick to the LA Clippers for Elton Brand and LA’s number 7 overall pick. Word out of LA is that the Clippers really like USC guard OJ Mayo, and getting the No. 2 slot would secure them their man. Miami, meanwhile, would get a guy they’ve always loved in Brand, while giving Dwyane Wade a dominant inside presence he hasn’t enjoyed since Shaquille “How Does My Ass Taste?” O’Neil was here. With the number 7 pick at their disposal, Miami could then choose a top notch prospect who would help fill an immediate need. UCLA point guard Russell Westbrook, Arizona point guard Jarryd Bayless or even Italian forward Danilo Gallinari should still be there at seven.

I'm not sure if Shaq Fu's ass smells like ass or IcyHot but this weekend, O’Neal grabbed the mic and hit the audience of a New York Club with a freestyle and chorus that commanded, “Kobe, tell me how my ass tastes.” Ever the MC, Shaq also commented on Patrick Ewing’s lack of a championship ring – zing. He said that he’s "the difference between first and last place" - and peeping at the Heat’s season, double z’s. But the juiciest part of his lil’ rhyme was this:

"I'm a horse. Kobe ratted me out. That's why I'm getting divorced. He said Shaq gave a mil. I don't do that 'cause my name's Shaquille. I love 'em, I don't leave 'em. I got a vasectomy, now I can't breed 'em."

Besides the fact that not even Lil’ Wayne could come up with heat like “I got a vasectomy, now I can’t breed ‘em” (wink), this rhyme seems like a true crime of passion. People in the audience say that O’Neal was laughing and smiling throughout his performance, and anyone who knows him can testify to his raucous sense of humor, but this hit on Kobe is a wee bit more than good-natured teasing between friends. You see, while embroiled in that rape scandal 4 years ago, Bryant made a comment about Shaq paying off his mistresses. Some (me included) say that Kobe was a beeyotch for even putting Shaq’s name into the fray, and judging from this recent flow, the big man still agrees. PR-wise, Shaq needs no press, so while a rap about going to practice or washing his balls wouldn’t have made as many headlines, he sure could have gone that route. But G.D. Shaq! I understand that you were minding your business, smashing off groupies/playing with your kids when Bryant threw you under the bus, but why is Kobe beef still on your menu? And the worst part? Word on South Beach is that Kobe’s announcement/evidence of his bitchassness/Shaq’s trickin’ off wasn’t all false. Kobe may have told ESPN, but I’m thinking that Miss Shaunie didn’t need Stuart Scott to tell her about her man’s extracurricular activities. But Shaq, you’re a pioneer and your personal fouls will teach future MVP’ers and Hall of Famers to keep stories of their conquests out of the locker room. Unless they want it splashed all across the evening news.

But mama don’t preach, because I’m on Team Shaq. And as the great Nasir Jones said, “Shaq’s my man, fuck Kobe.” So now, Kobe, tell me how MY ass tastes.

Update: Shaq has apparently taken up cycling since he moved to Arizona, because now he’s backpedaling on the meaning of those ferosh lyrics.

"Everyone that knows Shaq knows two things about me: One, that I'm a rapper, and two, that I'm a comedian. When I played with Kobe, me, him, Brian Shaw, J.R. Rider, we had freestyle sessions all the time. ... all in fun and we said crazier stuff than that. If I hurt anyone's feelings, I apologize."

Damn. But, I still want to know how his ass tastes, Kobe.

Got a question? Email the Magic City Kitty.

Michael Beasley has become something of a media-constructed anomaly. He’s gone from sure-fire NBA prospect, to immature troublemaker, to too small to be a star NBA forward, to too risky to draft because he once wore pajamas to the school cafeteria. Some have said he’s an immature jerk; others that he’s Kevin Durant with better rebounding skills. But there is one thing that is undeniable: he’s a talented player with the potential to change the recent fortunes of the Miami Heat from utter craptitude to NBA powerhouse for the next 12-15 seasons.

The reported vibe out of the Heat draft war room is that Pat Riley is lukewarm about taking Beasley with the second overall pick. Some reports have the Heat exploring two-for-one options such as swapping Beasley for another team’s draft-slot and a handful of veterans. And it’s no secret that Riley covets Memphis point guard Derrick Rose, who many expect to go first overall to the Chicago Bulls.

This was probably the crappiest week so far this year to be a bicycle commuter. The timing was consistent everyday: show up to work with the sunrise and end work in time for the deluge. Apocalyptic thunderstorms helped me celebrate the end of each work day by holding out until my ride home to kick off the party.

Miami’s regularly scheduled 3 and 4 o’clock summer rain showers help combat our ongoing drought situation, yet the afternoon downfall plunges me into one of the tragic aspects of being a cycling commuter in Miami: there’s virtually no transit alternative if you are car-free and caught in the rain.

One of Miami's best known blogs is saying farewell. Critical Miami, New Times' pick as Best Website of 2007, will no longer be updated but will remain live for those who still want to look through its archives. It's sole blogger, Alesh Houdek says in his final post:

The truth is that I started this site because I thought there was a need for it, and today the need is well covered by dozens of excellent sites, from Covert Overt to Miami Art to TM and EoM, and they’re all held together by Rick’s daily grind. I just don’t have desire to keep up with it all anymore.

Arguably, the site was one of the city's most popular blogs. However, Alesh isn't abandoning the blogsphere completely. He is starting a new project, a less locally focused blog called More Blog About Buidlings and Food.

- Jose D. Duran

The town’s gone crazy, that is for certain. Whether it’s over sun exposure, we just can’t tell. A swarm of thousands flocked to the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino in Hollywood Sunday night for the launch of blackjack.

As though we weren’t all blowing Benjamins on enough crap as is, bombshell Carmen Electra comes into town to blow up our spot. The diva herself catapulted what seems like Florida’s biggest claim to fame since the harvesting of oranges. And although she would rather be “gambling on my favorite outfit to wear” the starlet took time out to sit at the table for the first legal dealing of the game.

It rained all week long, dampening the mood a bit. Still, plenty of outdoor events continued on as planned, just a little wetter than expected. Hey, at least there weren't any hurricanes, right? Score: 1 for Miami, 0 for Mother Nature.

Universe Weekend

What do get when you mix hard bodies, spray-on tans, flashy swimwear and enough weave to make Tyra Banks jealous? Universe Weekend, of course! The bodybuilding event feature competitions such as Musclemania, Fitness Universe and Ms. Bikini Universe. Is it safe to say everyone obtain this level of fitness sans steroids?

While mayors from all over the United States gathered inside the InterContinental Hotel in downtown Miami, hundreds gathered outside to give a voice to those activists say government officials ignore. Videographer Jacob Katel captures the people who marched through the streets over the weekend asking for a chance to be heard.

- Jose D. Duran

It sounds so easy when yoga teachers tell you to relax into Savasana, or corpse, the final resting pose that can stretch five to fifteen minutes. Physically, it is: You lie on your back, eyes closed and palms up with your arms and legs slightly spread and feet falling apart.

Basically, it feels like doing nothing.

Perhaps that’s why it can be so freaking hard.

Teachers tell you to imagine the body melting into the ground, calm the mind or look into the third eye, which is problematic if you only believe you have two. Instead things like -- Maybe I’ll finish in time for The Office or Is it weird to eat popcorn and cheese for dinner? or [Insert work/relationship problem here] -- popped into my mind. I sneezed. My nose itched. I swayed my feet to the chants that were supposed to be filling me up with peace. It took me four years of practice to stop thinking – Are we done yet?

Videographer Jacob Katel takes a look at the March on the Mayors protests happening this weekend in reaction to the United States Conference of Mayors, which has brought 700 mayors from around the country to our city. The activists are taking advantage of the media spotlight on the city to have their voices heard.

- Jose D. Duran

It was the dude in the middle of Kendall Drive who got me. He stood on the middle of the center island, right in the middle of the hustle and bustle near the Town and Country Mall, waving a red sign. “FREE WAXING,” the sign said. Forget where I was going, how could I pass an opportunity like that up?

I followed the sign to a brand new branch of the European Wax Center, hidden away in the excitingly named Kendall Plaza #124 (at the back of Barnes & Noble, within eyeshot of the Starlight Diner). To lure new customers, the place is offering free bikini, eyebrow, or underarm wax for first-time visitors. My bikini experience at Uni K. Wax still haunted me, so I decided to stay safe and go for the underarms – a typically $14 for free. Sweet!

Well this is not so much as the Blog of the Week as it is a comment that caused much debate around the blogosphere. With McClatchy, the Miami Herald's parent company, cutting jobs, Herald columnist Leonard Pitts Jr. wrote this week some suggestions on how the local newspaper could remain relevant. Unfortunately, Pitts didn't bring any new ideas to the table that haven't been suggested before:

We still tend to regard our websites as ancillary to our primary mission of producing newspapers. But I submit that our primary mission is to report and comment upon the news and that it is the newspaper itself that has become ancillary.

So maybe we should regard the Internet not as an extra thing we do, but as the core thing we do. Maybe we should maximize the fact that we know our cities as no one else does. Maybe we should make our websites not simply online recreations of our papers, but entities in their own right, destination portals for those who want news and views from and about a given city, but also for those who want to find a good doctor in that city, or apply for a job in that city or reach the leaders of that city or research the history of that city. Maybe the goal should be to make ourselves the one indispensable guide to that city.

So much for First Amendment rights. Carlos Miller, a local blogger and photographer, was arrested on February 20, 2007 for allegedly obstructing traffic as he was taking pictures of Miami police officers in a public space after they order him not to. After he started arguing with them about what his rights were, they handcuffed him and hauled him off to jail.

Yesterday, Miller informed the blogosphere of his results -- guilty on resisting arrest without violence. He was found not guilty on disobeying a police officer and disorderly conduct. The prosecutor asked that Miller receive three months probation and pay the court costs, instead Judge Jose L. Fernandez slapped Miller with a one-year probation, 100 hours of community service and $540.50 in court fees.

Ouch! Check out Bob Norman's thoughts on the matter.

The US Conference of Mayors conference kicks off tomorrow in Miami, and Manny Diaz is stepping out. The Miami mayor -- the conference's leader this year -- will talk about green initiatives. Barack Obama and the Billmeister will follow him.

But Manny, whom Vanity Fair mag named one of the nation's most environmentally conscious mayors a couple years ago, presides over a city with the least park space of any big city in the nation -- 3.1 acres per 1000 residents. And, oh yeah, the Magic City has thousands of condos coming on line -- but the most screwed up mass transit system in the nation -- as the Miami Herald's Larry Lebowitz recently proved.

So somebody needs to call Manny out. C'mon protestors, speak up. You'll be heard.

Chuck Strouse

I hate to admit it, but Saturday, for the first time in weeks, I wandered over the causeway to South Beach. Why? Well I had bumped into DJ Lazaro Casanova at the Daily and he said I should stop by and check out his set at Mansion. I’ve been curious to hear what Casanova’s sets consisted of these days since I haven’t heard him spin since he was a resident DJ at Revolver.

Surprisingly, getting into Mansion was easy. So I proceeded to spend my night on the stage behind the DJ set up, where a sort of “secret” VIP area is located. His set was full on electro-house with touches of tribal and jungle beats (er, I know, taking it back to the ‘90s).

Hello, Kitty

My friends and family tease me about it, and I don’t deny it – I’m a bona fide party girl. I go out at least 5 or 6 nights a week and always drink and drug a little more than a lady should. But haha that’s not my problem. My problem is that I’m a single girl and I haven’t had sex in months. It’s not that I don’t meet hot guys, they holla at me all the time in the clubs. And it’s not that I’m not horny as hell (especially after I get a couple of shots of vodka in me), it’s just that I don’t want to screw some lame. I don’t want to waste my time with small penises, bad strokers, or any of the other bull that will deter me from getting off. Is there a way that I can kind of test a guy out before I consider getting intimate with him?

Privue Dix

Hey Privue,

Short of grabbing his penis and/or asking him to bump and grind the air as if his life depended on it, there are a few things you can do to test out your potential jumpoff. Since you meet these dudes in the club you might already know one of his previous lays, if so, subtly ask him or her how your prospect is in the sack. The person may give you a proper preview or they may sabotage the dude hoping that his or her hole remains your prospect’s first choice. Another way to test the water has to do with the legend that if a guy can dance, he’s good in the sack. So when you’re out partying, step back and watch your boy wind his body and see if his moves satisfy you. And if you’re really ballsy, wait for the DJ to play “Lollipop,” join him on the dance floor, and shake your saltshaker against his groin area until he starts tromboning.

In the final installment of the graffiti I documented at the Margulies Collection in Wynwood, here is what the backside of the building looks like. Unprotected by a chain-link fence and barbwire, it's exposed, inviting graffiti artists to tag it.

Jogging in Miami at noon is a lot like setting yourself on fire. But I'm the masochistic type when it comes to working out, so I went for a run in South Beach the other day – under a burning ball of flames. Five or six blocks from home and I was already covered in sweat and thirsty as a big slobbery dog.

Coming up on Flamingo Park, my throat felt dry, so I spit in the grass. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a Mercedes with tinted windows pull up next to me. The driver rolled down his window and a foreign man with fierce, beady eyes shook a finger at me. "No spit!" he said. "Woman."

Three words and it was enough to set me on fire twice. Was this machismo dick face actually telling me I’m not allowed to spit because I'm a chick? Did he really just go out of his way to lecture me on outdoor workout gender etiquette?

Apparently, I’d sprinted right into the 1950s.

I am not proud of the events that followed. After raising a tall middle finger to the gentleman, I sucked up the largest loogie possible and aimed it towards his car. But, alas, fancy cars are faster than sweaty girls and it landed closer to my feet than his ride.

- Natalie O’Neill

Hello, Kitty

My wife and I have been married for 14 years and have 2 tween-aged girls. Shes’s a stay-at-home mom, treats me like a king, our kids are happy, etcetera etcetera. The one complaint I have with her is that she is super up-tight in the bedroom and only opens her legs for me 2-3 times a month when we used to go at it 2-3 times a day! And not only that, but we were high school sweethearts and I was her first and only partner so her skills are pretty limited and she refuses to try anything outside of the missionary position. Whenever I try to introduce something new she pushes me off of her. I’m tired of beating off to pornos, and I don’t want to step outside of my marriage. What do I do?

Mr. Meatbeat

Hey Mr. Meatbeat,

So you want the wife to bend it over, huh? I can step out of my body for a sec, speak for the men and give you a hearty “Don’t we all.” I’ve done absolutely no surveys on the topic, but I promise you that a lot of married guys are currently unhappy with the amount of tricks their woman performs in the bedroom. And my confidential sources say that when the female says, “I do,” what she really means is “Whew. No more deep-throat! No more obligatory fucks!” Of course, this theory can swing both ways or not swing at all, but be aware. Another possible cause of your problem could be that Mrs. Meatbeat is just exhausted from treating you like a fucking king and chasing Hannah Montana and Miley Cyrus around the house all day. The missionary position can be extremely relaxing to a woman who’s on her feet all day, and your lady probably enjoys sprawling out on the bed for a few minutes out of the month. Ya know, doggie style can be rough on kitchen-floor-scrubbing, under-the-bed-vacuuming, sandbox-sifting knees.

Russ and Kevin Otway could be poster boys for South Florida's green set. The 29-year-old twins grew up on a 32-foot boat in the Virgin Islands without a refrigerator.

By age 6, they were diving for lobster. Their family wasted little and lived from the sea. After graduating high school in 1997, they joined the U.S. Navy.

Kevin left the military in 2001 and settled in Miami. Russ remained and was deployed to Iraq in February 2004. He joined a fleet near the port city of Um Qasr. One of his duties: protecting the country's oil terminals.

His bravery was tested in April 2004 when a fishing boat came charging toward the terminals and ships. The military tried to intercept the boat. But it was a suicide mission. It blew up -- killing three men on the boat trying to stop it.

Nothing says awesome like watching over forty cyclists form a train down Main Highway. This past Saturday's Critical Mass made a parade of cruisers, fixed-gears, road and mountain bikes and set a steady pace from Vizcaya to Matheson Hammock. After diving into the suspiciously murky lagoon at Matheson, we dodged raindrops to make the remaining few miles back to our starting point. Despite a little rain, good cheer and progressive activity prevailed and the ride ended happily – no flats, no crashes, no problem.

When I asked ask a couple of riders how they felt about the cycling climate in South Florida, they sounded off the usual call for more bike lanes and accommodations – an evolving and unending prayer to the FDOT and Transit Departments to make more Miami bike-friendly.