Feature

Umi Suba, go-go dancer and professional water polo player, shows us a few more of her wild hobbies and pastimes.

Venus Island Girl meets Channel 13 Morning Weatherbabe Windi Welch.

Sami Sunshine talks and struts for Venus Island Girl.

"Well, that sucks," She muttered. "Well, fuck. Dexmo. Buy me a six pack and you can just spend the night taking pictures of my tits."

Deximo liked that idea. As you can imagine. A six-pack of what, we asked.

"Cock Rocket Rum. They sponsor my Wednesday forcasts. Can we put them in my shoot? Besides, it's on sale at the Liquorama on South Main St."

Windi just continued to bewilder us with little choice factoids like that all night long. We were off to Potso's Liquorama, then off to our photo studio down the street from it.

It would be hard to describe the spicy dialogue that followed after Windi caught up with Hollie as she was leaving. The massive Vitor Tucci, her date for the rest of the evening, apparently, did not want us anywhere near Hollie and we did feel like arguing with the Ring's star strongman and animal trainer.

Suffice it to say that Hollie had other plans, which may or may not have included Vitor and his twin brother, and so our Plan B was not an option.

We arrived at the Silver Seal just as the largest man we've ever seen was leaving. And right behind him was none other than Hollie Mae Lovett.

"So much for your 'Date With Windi,' Dexmo. He has to declare war on somebody, I guess. Can't he do that tomorrow? I'm Windi Fucking Welch! What a dirtbag," she growled, turning the attention to a promotional poster on the facade of the Flukes. She glanced back over her shoulder for a moment, "Maybe he found out you were coming. That would be one seriously lame excuse for being stood up. 'Had to declare war. Sorry I missed you!' Lame. Just lame." Read more »

"I don't know any more than that, but he said he had to take a helicopter out of here this afternoon," Kimba continued.

Windi thought for a moment, looking disappointed.

"I've never seen a helicopter before. I missed that. Shit." Windi seemed to be handling her being stood up in an odd way. "Well, shit." She repeated, then sighed.

Suddenly, the door of the club swung open. It was Kimba Jones, the owner of The Flukes, and he seemed to be expecting Windi.

"There you are," he said, "Prime Minister Blake asked me to tell you that he would not be able to make his appointment with you this evening." Read more »