Calendar Boy: Push, breathe, push, breathe, God damn it, breathe. It's a tender gesture — albeit a futile one. After nearly 25 minutes, Barton's hamstrings tremble under the strain. Snap, snap, snap — lights flash everywhere. Then, silence. "OK, thank you! That's a wrap!"

Absolutely Fabio: She watches Fabio scoop a woman off the ground and flash a sparkler for a row of cameraphones. She squints. Do her eyes deceive her? A nearby butler whispers, "He can do that to you, you know."

The Hot List: What makes a Phila-delphian sexy? Is it power? Money? Fame? Heroin-boy-skinny, razor-blade hip bones?

Return to Fantasy Island: Mystery menage at a no-tell motel. Extreme submission. Cubicle cuckolding. Rape ... and that's just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Philadelphians' wildest sexual fantasies.

Fantasy Island: Robby, a 26-year-old lighting designer, vaguely pinpoints his fantasy as having something to do with "corsets and trapeze acts." More specifically, a redhead dressed in a corseted Strawberry Shortcake costume kicking it on a sex swing.

Portrait of a Lady, Pt. II: Some are passable, pretty even, but most look exactly like what they are: men in dresses. 

Portrait of a Lady: My first exposure to cross-dressers was the granny-wigged Robin Williams in Mrs. Doubtfire, followed by Aerosmith's "Dude Looks Like A Lady."

Sticky Business: I'm getting it from everyone. My boyfriend. My co-workers. My interns. My mother.

Strange Bedfellows: "Does nothing weird you out?" I get this question so often, I'm starting to think I'm either: a) seriously deviant, b) too understanding, or c) friends with the wrong people.

Bite Me: There are vampires among us.

Get Your Jollies: Sex toys make notoriously bad holiday gifts.

Olive, My Love: I never met an olive I didn't like.

Art School Confidential: I say college; you say kegger. I say naked; you say co-ed. It's no wonder university sex rags can't get no respect.

Mom & Pop Sex Shop, Pt. IV: "Hello, 1-900-Sex-Line." This is how my father picks up the phone these days — at least when he knows it's me.

Cradle of Love: When Miguel (not his real name), a 24-year-old graphic designer living and working in Montgomery County, has a rotten day at the office, he likes to go home, peel off his work clothes and slip on an adult incontinence diaper.

Bareback Nation: It wasn't like they didn't warn us.

Prairie Bone Companion: A few weeks ago, I received a letter so enthusiastically sincere, I couldn't ignore it. Handwritten on ruled legal paper, it was signed simply, "Escort-Illiterate Eddie."

The Dirty Parts: Twenty-five years ago, I was but a mere zygote in my mama's belly. Had I known what fun City Paper was having, I might've popped out sooner.

Mood Music: In the wake of the latest iPod upgrade, a new sex toy has the blogosphere abuzz.

The Gag Reflex: Five inches, maybe six. Seven max. That's how deep my throat goes.

In The Event That…: "Place Holdings" Runs through Oct. 1, Third Street Gallery, 58 N. Second St., 215-625-0993, www.confess2.us Michael Sebright wanted to know

Just Do It: Sun., Sept. 17, 7:30 p.m., $20-$25, live satellite broadcast from NYC's 92nd St. Y, Gershman Y, 401 S. Broad St.,

Accidental Tourist: Fri., Sept. 15, 6:30-8 p.m., free, Voices & Visions, The Bourse, lower level, Fourth and Ranstead sts., 215-625-4740 Ayun Halliday

Just Do It: ArtSalad lecture by James Mundie, Wed., Oct. 18, 11 a.m.-noon, exhibit runs Sept. 8-Oct. 22, $3-$5, children under 12 free,

Last Chance: Dreaming in Black and White Dumpster Divers: The Secret Garden of a Fertile Mind Runs through Sept. 15, Journey Home

Last Chance: Group Show Runs through Sept. 9, Gallery 13W, 4504 Regent St., 267-312-1426 This little gallery in Jon Stivers' West Philly

Coveting Thy Neighbors: Miami. Vegas. L.A. New York. Philly? In the highly subjective pantheon of America's hottest cities, ours sticks out like the fat girl at a debutante ball.

Day Tripper: Funk Master Flex Custom Car and Bike Show, Sat., Sept. 9, noon-8 p.m., $25-$30, Atlantic City Convention Center, 1 Miss