Dare: Summer/Fall 1999 Volume 1, No. 3

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Index

• Editorial
• Needs & Wants
• Tell It Like It Is
• Chick Stuff
• Guy Speak

Editorial

In Search of Our Sexual Selves...
by R. M. Schmitt

It is hard to believe that summer has already given way to fall - and perhaps even more astounding to note that this will be our third issue of Dare. Pretty soon, we'll have been online for a full year. Already our counter is ticking away toward 20,000 and by the time many of you read this - we'll be well beyond that mark. I wish to thank each and every one of you for making what started out as an idea scribbled on the back of a paper restaurant place mat into a real, living, breathing, successful reality. We would not continue to be here without you - the reader - the examiner of our thoughts. And so, with that said, let's move ahead with our latest musings.

I'll begin by saying that, as ever, Dare chooses to look at men as what they are - "male" - sexual beings. It's the same way we feel each of us - as women - should look at ourselves. All too often, we think women tend to shy away from that particular part of themselves; they override the "instinctual" with the safer, more "in-the-box" mode of being... Take for example this letter we received not too long ago from one of our readers:

Dear Dare: How refreshing... A 'zine that doesn't shy away from letting women be themselves in any way, shape, or form and yet recognizes that it's okay to be instinctual whether you're male or female... I think sometimes women have a hard time doing that - being instinctual, and along with it we sometimes forget that men are after all "male" - they (men) have basic wants, needs, and desires and (unlike a lot of us) they're usually not shy about showing it. I used to be like that - one of the "un-instinctual ones". But what is funny - is that over the past couple of years it almost feels like some light switch got flipped on inside of me - one that had been in the "off" position my entire life... I never noticed men noticing me - never paid much attention to my "sexual" self - and then suddenly - wham! Something biologically in me woke up and started paying attention. Yeah, I may still be clueless about men in a lot of ways - but I'm not nearly as naive as I once was about the basic instinct that drives the human male... Oddly enough, I think a lot of women feel the same way - they just choose to ignore it - or simply (sadly) never flip that switch into the "on" position...

By tuning into, or "switching on" your sexual self Dare believes you'll get closer to discovering who you really are. It's the same basic theme we've been hammering on since we began this little 'zine - be basic, but not base in your desire, in your existence... This is not to say, of course, that we advocate hedonism, or promiscuity, - we advocate a lot of things - but that we encourage each of you to take an honest look at yourselves and to explore the parts of yourselves - the hedon, the wanton, the princess, the prude - because they do exist and each of them are parts of you.... There is, as always, a method behind our madness. The bottom line is you can be a living, breathing, sexual woman and yet still carry yourself in a manner that exudes respect, professionalism, and class. Just because "good girls" do - doesn't mean they're bad... With these thoughts and others in mind, in this issue we examine - albeit loosely - the subtle, sometimes undiscovered sensualities that exist within all of us. This month's Guy Speak is a glorious example with it's amazingly frank analysis of how sensual men often find the simple act of watching a women cross her legs. Chick Stuff presents Part II of The Big "O" - which may not be a "subtle" subject but is certainly the Holy Grail of sexuality... This month's fiction selections also continue to push the envelope. We've upped the ante a bit this time around and have chosen stories that explore the often "unexplored" - delving close if not into the realm of taboo. You'll also find an incredibly though-provoking piece in this months Needs & Wants column that examines the finding of "self." It goes with out saying (but I'll say it anyway) that this latest issue also has the usual plethora of humor, art, photography, links and "things to try"... We've also managed to put up a couple of new reviews (honest, I'm not kidding) and launched a beer review section to accompany our wine rant on the Cool Stuff page.

We hope you'll enjoy this latest issue of Dare, and well if you don't, then take the time to tell us what you think we could be doing better. We will, of course, take or discard your suggestions as it suits us... (there are still some perks to being the "Editrix" after all). In the meantime, keep those letters and emails coming and take some time out to explore and perhaps even share the little sensualities that make you who you are....

R. M. Schmitt
DareEditrix

Needs & Wants

Freeing the Self
by "k"

We all reach points in our lives where we find that we are seemingly no longer satisfied with what we have; we feel we want or somehow need something more... Relationships - particularly long-term ones - are especially susceptible to this, and for the woman who suddenly finds herself no longer content - the struggle to find happiness, to "find herself" again, is often filled with emotional upheaval along a treacherous road of self-discovery...

These thoughts remind me of when I was 10 years old. How, one day I was playing hide-and-seek with my friends... oblivious as only a child's mind can be... and the next day I felt a subtle wave of "self" consciousness about even wanting to play such a childish game. It was the beginning of innocence lost... when for some unknown reason, the mind shifts into a formerly unknown gear that makes us "want" to be noticed... accepted... appreciated... and we find ourselves shaping all that we do in order to "fit the mold" that is expected of us so we can be assured of being noticed... accepted... appreciated.

It is the "growing up." I found myself confused and emotionally afraid - one moment trying to find out who I was and who I should be --- and the next back in the playground squealing with my friends on the swing set and acting like a little "kid" again --- then feeling the guilt of being found out - that someone would see me and think I was acting like a baby for wanting those simple, innocent pleasures of childhood.

So this dilemma is not exclusive to long-term relationships or, for example, the unhappily married woman. It is a dilemma we face every single moment we live. And, of course, we all go through this... it is, after all, growing up. It is moving into another stage, in fits and starts, into maturity. We do this all our lives. But because we see ourselves in a certain way, we think we are always going to be the same. But we are never the same. Our "self" clings to whoever we are in a particular moment... but then each moment that "self" dies and a new "self" emerges. There is really no then and now and later... there is only now, ever flowing and ever changing. We are not today who we were 10 years ago, or even yesterday, or even a moment past. It only seems to us that life changes suddenly, or that we go through "stages," because we are not aware of our moment to moment ever flowing, ever changing being.

It is the same in long-term relationships - in marriage. We think that our lives should be this way or that way... and once we determine what it is we think we should be or have in life... we cling to it ... we desperately try to hold on to it ... but of course we cannot, because every moment we are moving on through life.

This troubles us. We choose a goal and work towards it. Or we decide that our lives should be a certain way. We begin to resent the fact that our lives just keep moving on, and even though we work hard to get what we have decided we want, there are just too many interruptions from family, friends, job, responsibilities... and yet we cling to what we have imagined should be our lives... what we have decided we deserve.

Why are we not our old selves? Why are we not the vital, sexual women we were before we entered into these long-term relationships - before we entered into marriage? Why do we feel we have lost our capacity for pleasure? Why do we feel that being committed - being married means we must give up? Why must we suddenly feel we have to choose between the two?

Could it be because we have convinced ourselves that in order to be the "vital, sexual women we were before we were committed, before we were married," we must be free from the stress and pressures and demands of family life? Have we decided that our rights as women have been tread upon because we have to sacrifice so much of ourselves?

The answer is so simple that we cannot see it. In fact, we are not 10 years old anymore. We have changed. Not because of this long-term relationship, this commitment, this marriage. Not because we are 30-something. We have simply and inexorably changed... and will continue to change in whatever mental and emotional direction we choose.

Hey, if you want to play hide-and-seek again, play hide-and-seek. If you want to regain the innocence of youth, then do it. Start laughing at silly jokes. Start going to kid movies. Take yourself to the fair and feel the exhilaration of the roller coaster ride.

Of course you may not really care to be 10 years old again. Maybe you want to rekindle the fiery passions of your re-committed years. If this is true - then do it. If your significant other thinks you've gone crazy, so what! Keep at him until he starts enjoying it too. And if he doesn't cave in, then just let him make love his way, and you keep driving him crazy doing it your way. Being in a long-term relationship - in a marriage doesn't have to make you give it all up. It isn't time that numbs your senses... its letting all the superfluous pressures from the "outside" get into the "inside" of your mind.

I have a little practice that I do every night when I go to bed, before sleep. I sit in meditation for 10 or 15 minutes, and concentrate on the real me - the true "spirit" of what I am all about... and every other thought or emotion is set to rest while I just sit. If you do this often enough, you will be surprised at how intimately you get to know yourself. Some of those heavy, philosophical, emotional questions that you are always beating yourself up with, quietly dissolve into nothingness.. .and you see them for what they are. Just thoughts. Thoughts we have cultivated and cultured, and nurtured, and jealously guarded throughout the moments, days - years of our lives - until we are lost in them and trick ourselves into thinking they are reality. They are nothing. They are bubbles on the face of the sea. They are just thoughts. Just thoughts. They are not real.

What is it we "want?" The problem with wanting something is that we are instantly limiting our choices, our chances at pleasure and happiness. Suddenly, we cannot be happy because we don't have "this" or "that."

We all want to be loved. We all want to have passion and pleasure in our lives. But if we waste our time searching for whatever it is we think we have to have in order to be happy, or passionate, or pleasurable... we will always be lost. What if we just decided to "be" happy, or passionate, or pleasurable - without depending on "something" to get us there? Can we do that? Of course we can. If we just let go of what we "want" - then the whole universe is open to us. It's like suddenly losing your job and realizing that now you can be anything you want to be! It's like giving away all you own and then having nothing to lose.

In zen they say, "Leap from the mountain..." - and you will be free...

"k" is a dedicated student of Zen Buddhism. k considers her mode of formal employment to be irrelevant, with her true work as an "ever-practicing" student of life. She lives in sunny Florida where she finds the minds of her two granddaughters to be fertile ground for sowing her 5 1/2 decades of "ignorant wisdom.

Tell It Like It Is

Buddha in the Break Room
by Ari McKee

I’m an ex-smoker. Or maybe “recovering,” like an alcoholic. Like an alcoholic, I’m still attracted to it—the smoker and the smoke. Almost all my girlfriends were smokers. They tended to be sarcastic, a little dysfunctional, tough, emotional. If we were in a Western, we would have been the saloon girls with hearts of gold. To us, the rugged cattle-rustler was a better catch than the straight-arrow sheriff. You can see where that can get a person.

They say the poor smoke more than the rich, and maybe it’s true. But it’s more than just economics, it’s a personality type—romantic, pessimistic, iconoclastic. A smoker advertises her bruised, quixotic wise-ass teenage heart by the accoutrements she carries (cigs, matches, lighters) and by her intimate knowledge of the cellophane and foil culture, the soft or hard pack, the party tricks, the borrowing. I can fit into any group shivering on the office threshold and I would like the people I found there. They’d be funny and smart-mouthed and critical and generous. Often, that overactive denial mechanism in their brains has ventured beyond what is necessary to keep the nicotine coming and seeped into other mental processes like a wet basement. They’re in bad relationships, or finally out of them. Their problem kid just isn’t getting any better. They’re not hating their job any less, and their new car is running just about as badly as the last one did.

But there’s no one else near your cubicle who dislikes that irritating copier saleswoman quite as much as the smoker, or who can do as nasty an imitation of the boss. The smoker knows that staff meetings are just another way to interrupt a perfectly okay workday, not to mention one’s steady intake of tar. The smoker plays as much Solitaire as you do when it’s quiet, and feels guilty about it. Sometimes. But, the smoker would never tell on you. A social smoker, maybe, because they tend to be fibbers right from the get-go. But a real smoker, never. You know what a pack a day does? It gets all that sucking out of your system, you don’t have any left over for authority figures.

Smokers are different. You can put your finger on it.

So, becoming an ex-smoker is a little like having plastic surgery. Nobody recognizes you anymore. When you tell one of your new, shiny, non-smoking (never-smoking) friends that you used to smoke, they usually come as close to ignoring it as they possibly can. Their eyes focus a little over your forehead, “Mm-hmm.” Their internal voice chirps, “I’ll think about that tomorrow,” because they already like you and have decided that never happened. You might as well say, “I used to shoplift,” or “I was an adolescent bed-wetter.” They don’t want to know. It’s icky.

Smokers don’t want to hear it either, really. But they’re amazed. It messes up their classification system, the smoker equation: It’s break time + you’re not smoking = you’re a non. They usually don’t consider the possibility that you’re an ex. You’re a non, so according to the bylaws you’re missing some vital human juices smokers have—the rebellious, revolutionary passion, the urban insouciance, the instant cool, the ability to look busy at the bar when you’re really just waiting for someone to ask you to dance. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with you. You just don’t have the jones. You can’t do the middle finger/thumb 20 yard flick, you can’t tap a pack, you’ve never retrieved a burning cherry out of the stadium floor dust and lit four cigs off it. You don’t know how it feels to scavenge around the house when it’s too late to go out and you’re in your pajamas in the middle of a midnight phone conversation, and then, there in the back of the closet, the cordless still pressed against your ear . . . you find one in an old purse or jacket pocket, whole, unbroken, hardly stale. You light the last one of the night off the gas burner in the kitchen and boost your butt back up onto the counter to smoke and listen to the rest of a bad boyfriend bitch. With a big exhale.

Smokers know that shit. Somewhere else in them they also know that it’s nasty and dirty and that everything in their house stinks, even the books in their bookcase and the kleenex in its box. But, what’s the alternative? Become an ex?

An ex is neither fish nor fowl nor blue plate special. It’s like admitting to your new, small-town Lutheran congregation that you used to be a card-carrying Moonie, and then breaking it to your nutty old Moonie-pals that you’ve seen the light and you’re now strictly Missouri Synod. No wonder they both look at you like you shouldn’t be trusted to bring back the right change from the pop machine. “The best of both worlds” does not apply here. You’re a misfit.

The good news is there’s millions of misfits. Probably five out of every twenty bus riders, Harley owners, minivan drivers or racewalkers used to smoke. There’s just no way to identify them. Smokers have cigs, Nons don’t, end of story. Exes should have something. A badge, a tattoo, a ribbon, maybe some yellowish rings to wear on the ends of their knuckles. Something that says, “I’m tarnished, I’m experienced, I’ve been to the other side and back. I took some risks, but I’m not a complete idiot. I get it. I’m an ex-smoker.” We’re special, dammit. We’re like . . . we’re like Buddha, for Chrissake. We tried the wild life of decadence, we rejected the spartan life of asceticism, we’re on the middle path, dudes. We fish and cut bait. We shit and get off the pot. We rule.

Others, I suspect, might choose to believe that we exes once had the chance to be cool and threw it away. We sobered up, let the shaved spots grow back in, started wincing when the volume went up. We developed a taste for steak and seatbelts. We got married or had kids, or both, and suddenly, desperately, needed to live as long as possible. Partly to burn our 30-year mortgage in the Weber, but mostly to see how the little chromosomes turn out. To dandle their little ones and even stick around long enough to hear about the girls’ bad boyfriends.

I’m an ex. Don’t hate me because I’m aromatic. My motto is still, “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.” I just don’t got ‘em. But if I did, I’d know what to do with ‘em.

Ari McKee is a writer from St. Paul, Minnesota. "I guess I'm what is called an 'emerging' writer," she says, "which explains the damp, sticky carpet in my office and the stretch marks on my monitor." You can see more of Ari's work at The Noodle Zine and in the archives of Hoe E'Zine.

Chick Stuff

The Big "O" - Part II
by Rachel Lancaster

So now we know what an orgasm is and what it feels like. Some of our more "daring" readers sent in their thoughts in response to our query from the last Chick Stuffcolumn. We thought we'd start off Part IIof this O-ration by sharing some of their comments. Said Molly - when asked "What does an orgasm feel like?":
It feels as if every nerve and muscle has wound itself tighter and tighter - and when it breaks, it *breaks*! I scream, I shudder uncontrollably, waves of heat rise and fall in me - and if it's really intense, suddenly I feel as if every atom of my being is inextricably entwined with the cosmos in a stately and holy dance.
Kathy responded:
An orgasm isn't an explosion or waves... In my experience an orgasm is a peaking of desire and stimulation, so intense it is almost painful, but it's definitely exquisite. It happens best when you trust him enough to completely lose control of yourself and your desire.
Sure you can have an orgasm without losing control, but that kind is controlled, tiny, like a stifled sneeze.
And Liz commented:
For the most part orgasm is a purely selfish thing. In such moments, it begins as a tingling that starts in my legs and toes and manifests itself throughout my body - then rushes inward - toward my personal "Bermuda Triangle" - before exploding out and away leaving me floating somewhere - who knows where... On the flip side of that when my lover and I climax together- the "trip" is of even more unearthly proportions...
Liz's comments bring us nicely to our next cosmic - or should I say - orgasmic question:

So, what about simultaneous climax?

Ah, yes, simultaneous climax... As if achieving orgasm wasn't goal enough in itself, the be-all, end-all, if you believe much of anything that you read and hear, is to climax at the same exact moment as your partner. Believe it or not, there is actually a biological purpose for orgasm (and simultaneous orgasm). The basic idea Mother Nature had in mind was for the muscular contractions of the uterus to assist the sperm in propelling themselves toward the ovum. But how to facilitate this incredible dual event? And does it really happen that often? And if it's not happening to you - then what the heck are you doing wrong?

Okay - first things first - you're not doing anything wrong. So just pitch that nifty notion right here and now. Statistically speaking achieving orgasm at the same exact moment as your partner is not an incredibly likely event - although it does happen - and most likely it can and will happen to you - eventually - so don't despair. The trick to such a cataclysmic event - in my humble opinion - is, are you ready for this... timing (no wonder they aren't paying me to write this column). So, the best test for success in the dual-come arena (again imho) is to find a guy who can really get your slow-cooker going and that has a pretty good handle on his own levels of control. When you find this mix - well, then you've got all the right ingredients to manufacture your own "double-damn-Sam" orgasmic slam.

Next question...

When I come does he have to too?

Now - here we're not talking about the big-double-O (that being you and your man climaxing at the same time). No, no, no, noooo.... What we're talking about here is YOUR pleasure - not his. How often have you actually considered that little gem? To be quite frank, a lot of men are hell bent on making their women feel good. They pursue - sometimes over-zealously (my clit is not something that needs to be attacked thank you - but some deliberate careful stimulation is always appreciated) - the goal of making their gal come. Of course you've got to let them know what you like or you're liable to get sore and not off. The kick here though, is that just because he manages to make you see stars, doesn't automatically mean that you now need to "roll-over baby" and reciprocate. Now don't get me wrong - most of us are more than happy to make the man of our dreams (those would be the ones who take the time to ensure we're taken care of somewhere in the whole sexual gratification process) moan and groan and lose it as if there's no tomorrow - particularly if he's already taken the time to satisfy us. Let's face it ladies - being able to get your man off is a pretty big turn on. The point I'm trying to make is that every once in a while - wouldn't it be a kick if we were the ones who rolled over and fell asleep after the big orgasmic event and the "man of our dreams" was just content to cuddle... Okay - so now Rach I know you're dreamin'... But seriously, what I'm advocating here is mutual pleasure, but basically with no expectations or strings attached. Sound reasonable? Moving right along...

What's all this hype I hear about "multi-orgasmic" women?

If you've ever watched a porno movie or been to a XXX web site (okay, so yeah, been there, done that) you've no doubt seen or read about women who seemingly come on command and come endlessly at that. One mind-blowing orgasm after another seems to shudder through their bodies while Joe Stud does his thing. How on earth do those chicks do that? Well, basically ladies, being multi-orgasmic simply means being capable of having successive orgasms in a relatively short space of time. To get a better understanding of this - let's go scientific for a few minutes. Sexual response is broken down into four stages - excitement, plateau, orgasm, and resolution (you can visit The Sexual Response Cycle web site for a thorough discussion of each of these stages - for our purposes we're only interested in the resolution portion of the cycle). Resolution is the final phase, which occurs after climax is achieved. It is during this stage that some women, with continued or renewed sexual stimulation, can return immediately to the beginning of the sexual response cycle and climax again - hence your "multi-orgasmic" woman. Men on the other hand normally need a recovery period (this of course does vary depending on the individual) and are usually unable to return immediately to the beginning of the cycle.

So, what does all this mean? Basically, some women are able to climax multiple times, but as with "simultaneous orgasm" I would wager that the majority of women aren't necessarily in this category. That doesn't mean that you can't "teach" yourself to have multiple orgasms, or that you never will achieve them. Again, so much of the whole orgasmic connection depends on the individual, on timing, on mood, on how much you want to be with the one your with, or if the baby is crying, the telephone is ringing, how much alcohol you've had to drink, how good you feel about yourself, how much attention your partner lavishes on you... The formulas and combinations for success are multiple and never ending.

Okay, well with that I believe I'm being waved off and should conclude this little foray into the realm of orgasm. It's a subject that we could chatter on about endlessly and we've only just scratched the surface of all those "daring" questions. Nonetheless, we hope you've enjoyed our little commentary, and maybe even found some solidarity or amusement in what we've had to say. We'd welcome your feedback, and well if there are some of those daring questions that you're just dying to have answered... you know the drill - send 'em our way... We Dare ya...

Rachel Lancasterwrites, works, lives, and dreams in New York City.

Guy Speak

The Subtle Gestures...
by Jack Silverstone

The crossed legs, the flip of the hair, the shy smile followed by a gentle head turn and playful wink, the hand casually placed on the arm to emphasize a point. All of these things have something in common. They are things that a discerning guy can pick up on while on the prowl that might mean a sensitive guy might have a shot at her - if he plays his cards right. All have seen these subtle gestures used by women who know how to lead a guy on. And, I have also seen them all presented unknowingly by beautiful women towards men, which in turn produced an unwanted advance by the now confused, poor guy (not to mention leaving the young lady wanting to know whatever gave the guy the idea that she was interested in the first place?!). Of course, some guys do tend to jump the gun on occasion with overzealous egos. All of this, however, is part of the cat and mouse game we play. The game we all know and love (especially if you are reading this e'zine).

These subtle gestures are my favorite part of the game (besides, of course, closing the deal). These first contacts with your next possible partner need to be carefully thought out, and if you're the girl - you hope "Mr. Right" is able to read body language. But, what are we guys looking to read? And what makes us look - draws us in? My favorite? I've always liked the open ended lure, the one not always directed at anyone in particular, but the one that can drive a man crazy while he is staring at you (and you may not even know it!). Take for example - the simple act of a woman crossing her legs. Women do it all the time and probably never give it a second thought. Of course the whole act of placing one shapely stem across the other can have a whole different world of meaning to that discerning, sensitive, or overzealous guy. To illustrate this point - Dare did a little "market research" which you may find of interest - read on if you care to know a little more about those subtle gestures and how they process in the male mind...

v v v

Below are excerpts from an informal survey taken by Dare's editorial staff - the questions we asked of the men we polled were: "Do you have an opinion on women crossing their legs? Do you think it's sexy, flirtatious, elegant, a come-on 'a la Sharon Stone'? Or have you ever given it much thought?"To follow are the responses we received:

"In pants or skirt/dress? If the latter, most certainly. Even more so if a mid-thigh skirt is worn (go figure, the shorter the better). Legs are a fine feature on women (and the features get better as you go up) and leg crossing seems to highlight or enhance nice legs.. I like it.." -- Ed

"...let's see my answers would probably depend on who's legs they were. But, yes it is usually sexy for women to cross their legs." -- Jason

"Women look more professional and more respectable when they cross their legs. Especially when they do it in a slow and sexy manner..." -- Tim

"I'm not too sure whether I should answer this question as it may incriminate me, however, I will give you my opinionnonetheless... I believe that leg crossing by women is not flirtatious as depicted by Sharon Stone (in the movie Basic Instinct). I do find it to be an intriguing event. As a whole, I view women as a symbol of grace and elegance. There is nothing on thisearth more beautiful than a woman. I cannot deny that there is always a bit of sexual attraction at the sight of a women crossing her legs, however, it is secondary to the event. As you are probably more aware than I, most men are driven by the sexuality of the women. Please believe me when I say that this is not true of all men. There are a few of us that truly appreciate thebeauty of a woman." -- Paul

"I never really thought about it, but I guess it can be sexy, depending on how they are crossed. I definitely agree with theelegant part though. I never really thought about it being flirtatious, but it all depends on how they cross/uncross them. Overall, I think a woman is sexier with crossed legs." -- Tony

"Leg crossing is sexy, what Stone did was NOT!" -- Jim

"...on crossing legs..., I was doing some thinking in the shower this morning (where I do some of my best thinking). I, for one,do enjoy sitting across from a good looking women with her legs crossed and my senses are raised even higher if she is wearing short skirt or a long skirt or dress with a high slit... time for another shower..." -- Matt

"Sexy or no? No, although some women's legs look better when crossed. As for the rest of the survey, I am curious if theyconsider crossing your legs to keep them warm 'for comfort.' More women than men wear clothing that expose their legs tocold air and this could be the greatest factor in frequency of crossing legs." -- Ron

"I find it sexy and elegant especially if the woman has nice legs. I have to admit though, if there is a chance I might "catch aview," I always look." -- Mike

v v v

A note from theDare staff:

Many thanks to Jack for putting together this intriguing little piece. Jack's a hard man to nail down as he spends a lot of time on the road... Nonetheless, when last we spoke he mentioned he may have some additional thoughts for us on the matter... With that said, stay tuned, weDare you to see what he may come up with...

Jack Silverstone sheds light on the male perspective from his many travels and nights on the prowl in locations he'd rather not mention. Elusive and ever walking the edge, the one thing we have been able to gather from him is that he hasn't even begun to tap into all the things life has to offer.