Some kind of strange and unexplainable primal forces are at work when the cleavage is exposed. When a man’s eyes make contact, our breath turns to short little panting noises as a pleasant warmth begins to develop in the nether region. Remember the Seinfeld episode where George stares at the NBC executive’s daughter’s low hanging fruit? Jerry says they are like giant and powerful magnets to the eyes with an effect much like Kryptonite has upon Superman.

Once again, it cannot be explained by mere rationale, but when the globes are in orbit, our eyes MUST make contact. Whether they are small and firm, or large, round and jiggly, it does not matter…we HAVE TO look! We HAVE TO. It’s like some unwritten law in the ancient records, scribed on the walls of the Mayan Temples. The luscious valley between the mighty peaks grips a man’s being much like the Sirens who seduced Homer in the Iliad and the Odyssey. Its spell is intoxicating driving a normal man to the very brink of childish behavior, not to mention – utter stupidity (or is that udder stupidity?)

We males have become masters of our craft. We have studied this vertical space of flesh and nothingness and have learned how to catch that sacred glimpse of nirvana at the perfect time. We look the female in the eyes, smile as we talk, nodding as if we are actually listening to a word the shrew is saying. It’s a peek of the holy grails that we are after and nothing will stop our valiant quest. We use cunning and guile to move their attention elsewhere – and the moment their eyes turn, OUR eyes dive in for the kill.

“Oh, look… that kitten must be lost.” We say with an innocent yet sinister glow.

“Oh, where?” she says, as her head moves about.

“Over yonder, in the bushes” you point, as your pupils all but burn a hole into her chest.

“Where?” she asks, “I don’t see a… um, what are you looking at?”

SNAGGED! You have been snagged! She begins to change the subject while awkwardly tugging her blouse upwards. As she continues to talk, you sit there like a fool – a large pulsating letter “L” is emblazoned upon your forehead as the beauty that once was is buried six miles deep in cotton and polyester fibers.

This previous action on the part of the female, I do not understand, as it confuses the male species here and abroad. Let me explain. A woman wears a shirt or sweater that by her choice, is low cut, as her ta-tas are in full display for all the world to gander. They’re swingin’ high and low, loose and free, giving the male populous the joy we so richly deserve. Yet the moment our woman – this teasing harlot – notices where our eyes are fixed, she folds her arms or grabs the nearest Cosmo to cover up those mountains of grandeur. UNFAIR I say!

I, the Zman, speak on behalf of heterosexual men everywhere on this wretched planet. Women, take heed. When you “CHOOSE” to wear a low cut top that exposes your upper region, DO NOT act so alarmed when we men are gazed upon your earthly beauty. Why do you wear such attire if you do not wish for us to stare? Why do you purposely dress so provocatively, yet cover up the moment we sneak a peek? I’ll be honest, ladies… since my early manhood this phenomena has really irked me to no end. You put the sale rack up on display, but when an interested shopper passes by, the curtains are drawn and the shop is closed. Again, UNFAIR I say!

I have to admit that this very horrid plight happened to me only today and I could not go another moment without speaking up for my fellow man. I was taken aback as my character was unfairly thrown into question. This was rude, degrading, and unjust in every way.

I’m telling you, there really was a lost kitten in the bushes. I swear.

- Zman

The website is broken into two parts – half being a resume of Tommy Z’s work and accomplishments, and the other half being a fan site full of fun and interesting stuff that only Tommy Z. can provide!

First and foremost get yourself ready for a lethal dose of The Zman’s Blog – Rants from a Social Cromag, where the man let’s loose with a brand of mental and verbal flatulence you have never experienced before!

Zman’s Breaking News let’s you know everything new and happening first-hand with the stogie-sucking, Polish / Italian from the state of New Jersey! If something new is going on with Zarzecki, you’re damn straight that we’re gonna let you know about it!

Tommy’s New Book Preview gives you the low-down on the hysterical new, for sure to be Best Selling Book: Woman: The Official Man’s Survival Guide to Coexisting With Creatures of the Opposite Sex. -

Tommy is quickly becoming a sought after Personality & Spokesman and here’s where you can see his successes and find out how to contact him.

Zman’s Cigar Pick of the Week is where premium hand rolled cigars are reviewed for the stogie-loving faithful! Personally sitting down with industry icons like Camacho’s Christian Eiroa, Alec Bradley’s George Sosa, and Drew Estates Steve Saka gives that added something you won’t find in cigar reviews anywhere else.

And Z Man-Food Recipes are some of Tommy Z’s favorite epicurean delights designed for the male appetite. WARNING: Do NOT visit this page on an empty stomach!

Denny has set up our evening for some classic New York cool at the Carnegie Club on 56^th Street. I’ve wanted to go there forever though I just never seemed to make it, but my buddy makes it his stomping ground each time into the city, so I tagged along for the night… and wow am I so glad that I did.

For you cigar lovers in the audience, the Carnegie Club is a swank throwback to the forties and fifties, a time when men were kings of the castle… a time when you could groove on music of the era, enjoy a nice pour of whisky, good conversation, and of course, your favorite cigar. Thank God that the tyrannical Mayor Bloomberg has somehow grandfathered this place, allowing cigar smoking to continue in the tradition of old New York. The club itself is elegant, stylish, with a nostalgic feel that transports you to a time and place of decades past. The look and feel is plush – small couches and leather chairs, along with a well stocked bar and humidor. There are 18^th century hand-carved wooden bookcases filled with leather-bound classics, a stone fireplace, funky art deco wall covering, and a more private mezzanine above. And best of all, the patrons are wonderfully friendly, well dressed, and all there for the same reason – to enjoy life the way it was truly meant to be.

While the club was just what I needed, the best part was yet to come. Denny happens to be good friends with Mr. Steven Maglio – and Steven Maglio just happens to sing the world’s finest renditions of Frank Sinatra – a performance so fabulous that even old blue eyes himself does a double take from the great beyond each time Stevie sings. And the best part is that Maglio does two Sinatra sets each and every Saturday night at the Carnegie Club.

Now admittedly, I’ve grown up on a steady diet of Zepplin, Queen, Judas Priest, Metallica and Alice In Chains – and Sinatra was never really my bag. It’s not that I didn’t like him or appreciate what he did, I just never really got into that scene. But I have to tell you, Steve Maglio blew my doors off with his voice and style and I have walked into a new world of cool and sophistication that I never, ever thought I would embrace. Now he’s not an impersonator – to me impersonators are so karaoke.  Steve’s voice is flawless and his charisma lights up the room, and in his own words, “I do it my way.” Hey plays in front of a live eleven-piece band, the Stan Rubin Orchestra and goddamn, they get the place jumping, starting with some classic swing era faves, then straight into the Frankie serenade. Steve does two completely different sets at 8:30 and 11:30 pm, and the place is packed (or shall I say, Rat Packed) with old fans, and new fans, just like myself.

So picture hanging at the swanky bar with a group of ultra cool cats – including boxing legend, Renaldo Snipes (what a gentleman) singing, smoking premium hand-rolds, sipping single malt, and listening to music that was from a time when the politically correct weren’t trying to protect us all from ourselves (and least I not forget – enough fine tail to get any man just a little bit crazy.) The term “It don’t get any better than this” certainly applies, my friends. I had such an amazing time and simply can’t wait to go back. Hopefully, I’m hooking up with Denny and Steve later in the week, and fun will continue on! It’s up to you. New York, New York.

-ZMan

Famous for his love of premium cigars, comedian Ron White’s broad and successful portfolio will now expand to include Zino Platinum Ambassador. Zino Platinum, the premium cigar brand, known for its creative approach to marketing, has joined forces with White in 2011 in an innovative relationship designed to expand both brands’ audiences by creating awareness in new markets. The extent of White’s involvement will include, but not be limited to, special appearances at Zino Platinum events and a Zino Platinum Ron White Signature cigar blended to his tastes and preferences for his personal use.

White’s first appearance as an Ambassador will be at the March 29^th nationwide launch of the new Z-Class Series in Palm Beach Gardens, Fl, where he will take part in the unveiling of the product, the first new line of Zino Platinum Cigars in 8 years. As the partnership evolves, White will be making appearances at select retail outlets and supporting various creative marketing efforts.

In 2002 Zino Platinum was developed by the Oettinger Davidoff Group in partnership with American marketing specialists, revealing an entirely new approach to design, marketing and publicity. Zino Platinum represents a fusion of time-honored cigar tradition and the hip culture of today and tomorrow. Zino Platinum Cigars’ various shapes, tastes, blends and aromas are all respectfully drawn from the best of classic cigar customs. Zino Platinum cigar smokers are youthful, ambitious, strong, proud, successful, fashionable and bold. Today Zino Platinum is still at the forefront of pop culture and the leading lifestyle brand in the cigar industry. Zino Platinum uses the best traditions of the old school and the innovations of the new school to create a dynamic market opportunity.

Ron began his career two decades ago and now is one of the most successful comedians, recording artists and entrepreneurs in the United States. Best known for his uninhibited comedy shows, White shot to fame after his appearance on the Blue Collar Comedy Tour. His career includes two Grammy-nominations, a Gold Record, numerous one-hour specials, a New York Times Best Seller and CD and DVD sales over 10 million. White will make special appearances alongside Zino Platinum at retail events across the US in support of the brand.

As my son has just hit 14 year’s of age – on his way to earning his Mancard – I’ve noticed his interest in girls getting more and more obvious. Each morning before school he hoses himself down with AXE body spray, and when mixed with Fritos for lunch it makes for an interesting middle-school aphrodisiac. Plus he’s doing a lot of Myspace messaging back and forth with the young ladies, which I say, “kudos little dude.”

I was trying to remember my earliest feelings for the opposite sex and it was probably in first grade where I sat in front of Kathy Werbin’s house one Saturday morning for about four hours waiting for her to come outside. I remember my heart pounding, wondering what I would say when we’d hook up. (It’s uncanny how woman make guys do brutally stupid shit – even at six years old.) Finally my patience paid off as she appeared from her garage – and man she was hot – even back then I was particular about looks. I remember she was into GI Joe’s and asked me to play. (It’s funny that GI Joe’s were actually dolls wrapped in testosterone so boys would be tricked into playing with them.) But my little heart was soon plucked from my ribcage as she had to go – a play date with Robert Sandler was scheduled and that was the first time I realized what cruel harlots the opposite sex can be.

It was definitely movies and TV that helped to arouse my nubile senses in the early years. I didn’t know why, but at ten years old I couldn’t take my eyes off of Barbara Eden’s stomach when she donned that genie costume. I used to get warm all over when she pranced around her Cocoa Beach habitat. And even at ten I wondered what the bloody hell was wrong with Major Nelson - I mean for crissakes, come on, man! Forget the fact that she was sizzling hot and was sworn to his every command – the bonehead could have anything he wanted – gold, jewels, cars, homes – but it was always, “Don’t use your powers, Jeannie.” What a friggin ass-tro-NOT.

Those cavorting cougars always had me more worked up more than Laurie Partridge or any of the Brady chicks. Girls my own age didn’t do it for me. I can’t explain it, but I always had a penchant for the older gals. Now I know most guys loved Dawn Wells as Mary Ann, but I was always a Ginger guy, and when Tina Louise strutted about in those slinky nightgowns, I was glued to the tube. (And it wasn’t until I was around 15 that I came to the conclusion that Gilligan, the Skipper, and the Professor were all raging poofters.) I’ve never really dug the “girl next door” type, but more the sultry, buxom bombshell. And as a lad, no one had me standing at full attention more than the incredible Raquel Welch. I was just a kid but I had an amazing appreciation for her killer body, complete with swollen appendages. You can blame God or nature, or the earth’s primal forces, but I was not in control of certain bodily reactions when Raquel appeared on a TV talk or game show. I used to scan the TV Guide when we got it to see if the starlet was appearing anywhere. That same era had the likes of Ursula Andress, Elke Sommer and Gina Lolabridgada, Sophia Loren, Brigette Bardot, and Margaret Nolan - incredibly voluptuous goddesses I couldn’t take my eyes off!

The same unexplainable force that changes the tides and pulls plants towards the sun had me more jacked up than ten Milky Ways and a jug of Bosco. I vividly remember watching Goldie Hawn dance in a bikini on Rowan and Martin’s Laughin, and thinking, “Now that sure as hell beats playing with GI Joe’s.”

Even though she wasn’t provocative, I always dug Elizabeth Montgomery as Samantha Stevens on Bewitched. Again, at an early age I recognized her beauty and just being a witch carried a sexiness all of its own. And again, with the ability to have anything he wanted, her retarded husband Darrin suffered from Major Nelson syndrome: “Don’t use any witchcraft to get what we want or need, Sam.” Whether it was York or Sargent, both Darrin’s were most definitely a couple of real “Dicks” when it came to Samantha’s powers.

No doubt today’s TV is a hell of a lot more sex oriented and I realize that my son is subject to those same unexplainable forces that his daddy was driven by. Plus with the internet and its 12,000 naughty sites, my kid doesn’t have to go rooting around my bedroom for pop’s “half-assed” hidden Playboy magazines (sorry dad, but you’ve gotta know I would have found them even if you buried them two miles under the goddamned septic tank.)

Listen, my intent here wasn’t to write a sexist piece and I’m certainly not advocating my kid look at porn or anything like that. I just know at 14 what my son is feeling as I think back to my early days of youth. And there’s no doubt everyone of you guys have similar memories and stories of your own – hopefully to share in the comments section below (and please do so because I’ll most likely need to convince my mother, wife, and daughter that I’m not a raging perverted psychopath, after they read this.)

Glad I could share such nice mammaries.

And hey, if you love the chicks from the sixties and seventies, there’s no better magazine to get your nostalgic dander up than Cinema Retro, published by my good buddy and film (and James Bond) aficionado, Lee Pfeiffer @ www.cinemaretro.com

- Zman

Fast, loud, big block mother f@#kers. Four miles to a gallon? Who gives a shift. These are American Muscle Cars and they make our hearts race at higher rpms than recommended by law. This is porn of a different variety – one that is racy, but street legal and hauls some hot ass. From Vettes to Mustangs, Chevelles, Chargers, and Challengers, these machines of past and present are a true part of what makes the U.S.A great. Enjoy the metallic cheesecake and I’ll have more to come real soon! What’s your fave? Share with the readers!

Hey, you had or have a four wheeled beast? Tell me about it in the comments and send a pic if you have one! Now scroll down and enjoy the lust. And don’t worry, you won’t go blind, your dad just made crap that up.

By Izzy Jaecks

For those of you guys who love the loaf but don’t cook, Izzy Jaecks brings us a recipe that even a primate could make…

Because everything’s better with bacon, a recipe to put a smile on that grizzly face…

I don’t cook beyond heating things.  I don’t even have a grill (or anywhere to use one) so if something is easy enough to ME to make, it’s easy enough for just about anyone to make.  There is almost no measuring to this, and I came up with the recipe just walking around the grocery store trying to think what would be good in meatloaf…. I call it “whole meal” because adding spinach and oatmeal make this a pretty balanced meal all in itself (I like one dish meals).  So I present my Stupid-Proof, Whole Meal Meatloaf:

2 lbs ground beef

1 can chopped tomatoes, mostly drained

8 oz fresh mushrooms, chopped

10 oz package of frozen spinach (thawed…)

3 raw eggs

1 packet soup mix

2 cups “old fashioned” oatmeal

And of course, the very best part of all… one entire package of delicious bacony flavored bacon!

The proportions are what you can find pre-packaged, and even the oatmeal you can just toss in a couple handfuls instead of measuring exactly. Mix it all together in no particular order, stuff it into a bread pan, weave bacon strips across the top and bake it for about an hour and a half at 375.  If there is any leftover mix that didn’t fit into the bread pan, just fry it up like a burger patty.

Variations:   use different kinds of ground meat – turkey, veal, pork… add cheese…

Trust me, you won’t need ketchup, it’s awesome all by itself—and DAMN it’s great as leftovers and sandwiches with some melted cheddar. After I make it I cut it up, chuck it into the freezer, and take pieces to work for lunch. Hey, I’d share some with your guys, but the Zman just devoured the whole pan full!

- Izzy

Just when you think you’ve seen it all in the baconsphere, we now give you Bakon Vodka. We’ve been hearing some rave reviews so we took a little visit to their website to see what its all about!

The Story: Is Bacon Really a Strange Ingredient in a Cocktail?

People have been mixing savory ingredients with alcohol as long as we have been drinking alcohol. Writers from the 17th century, including John Locke and Samuel Pepys frequently imbibed and wrote about savory infused ales. It turns out that mixing sweet and savory in food and beverage is not a new idea.

Carnivorous Cocktails

Around the world today, high-end lounges are serving a variety of “carnivorous cocktails.” The best mixologists are like chefs behind the bar and they don’t want to be limited to standard fruit-flavored infusions. These bartenders have found that the savory aspect of bacon makes a great dominant profile in a cocktail like a Bakon martini with a blue cheese-stuffed olive. But it can also take the back seat, with bacon’s smoky flavor subtly enhancing the taste in a concoction like a Chocolate Martini.

Our Story

We started out testing various infusions in our kitchen in the fall of 2007. We wanted to do it right, to create a premium-quality vodka you’d enjoy drinking. To match an infusion, we tested recipes for over two years, finally landing at the one true “Bakon Vodka”.

We start with a superior quality potato vodka. Distilled in Idaho from potatoes, it is smooth, slightly sweet with the well-rounded flavor that you only get from a quality potato distillation, with no strong burn or aftertaste. Our vodka is column-distilled using a single heating process that doesn’t “bruise” the alcohol like the multiple heating cycles needed to make a typical pot-still vodka. Getting the perfect savory bacon flavor took us a while to get right too. We wanted it to have the essence of a delicious crisp slice of peppered-bacon.

After numerous recipes and a lot of testing, we got it right. And we think you’ll agree.

You’ll never want to use another vodka for your Bloody Mary… and you’ll be amazed with the versatility of Bakon Vodka – see our Recipes page for more ideas!

Check out the website for yourself @ http://www.bakonvodka.com/

Part One of this Outstanding Video Interview

Michael Gladis plays the pipe smoking copywriter, “Paul Kinsey” on AMC TV’s, Award Winning, Mad Men. Not only does his character Paul smoke a pipe on screen, but Mr. Gladis smokes a pipe in real life.

PipesMagazine.com Editor & Publisher, Kevin Godbee sat down with Michael Gladis in the private smoking lounge at Davidoff of Geneva in midtown Manhattan on November 14, 2009. They talked about pipe smoking, his role on Mad Men, and his acting career in general. Michael is charming, friendly, and witty while he enjoys smoking his pipe and giving us the inside scoop on Mad Men and telling us how he is similar to Paul Kinsey. See Part I of our video interview with Michael Gladis here and see if you can get the trivia question right at the end.

Watch Part One of Kevin Godbee’s Interview by CLICKING HERE

Follow Us on Twitter for All Your Testosterone Filled Updates > www.twitter.com/planetZman

Metal, Chrome, & Testosterone

Recently I attended “Bike Night” at JR Cigars in Whippany, New Jersey, with my 13 year old son, Tommy. It was just the gorgeous, perfect night – blue sky and late summer temperatures as motorcycles of every size, make, year, design, and color descended upon the parking lot for four hours of high-tech nostalgia and testosterone.

I admittedly don’t ride or own a bike, but the middle age crazy, mid life yearning in me really wants to something fierce. I just love motorcycles and the unbridled freedom they represent. My friends who ride say that just like smoking a cigar, cruising on a bike unwinds the mind and recharges your batteries, allowing you to become one with the bike and your surroundings. My wife thinks I’m out of my f’ing mind but why would I expect her to understand? She loathes cigars even thought those checks I get to support the family come straight from the tobacco world.

Long hairs, throwbacks, and white-collar dudes joined in unison to hang and celebrate the age-old joy of “riding on the wind.” They came from all walks of life (Yeah, and that would be me, “posing” on a custom Harley.) It was a male bonding extravaganza and the smell of finely aged burning leaf wafted through the air as Tommy and I oogled and ah’d at many an amazing piece of machinery and art. Of course all of the true blue Harley’s were out in full force as well as some very cool Victory’s, but I was definitely impressed with many of the Japanese bikes that have taken on the American “bad-boy” look. Honda, Yamaha, and Kawasakia make some bikes I couldn’t believe weren’t American made as their engineering and style were flat out awesome. Then there were Triumphs, BMW’s, and some old Norton’s on display, as well as my all-time favorite, the Indian.

A few years ago, Indian Motorcycles went belly up. I decided to check the web and found out that the company has been reformed with a brand new headquarters and a state of the art manufacturing facility in Kings Mountain, North Carolina. Four brand new 2009 gorgeous touring road models should be available this fall and that is just great news for a true American icon. You certainly don’t have to ride bikes to appreciate the amazing beauty and hand craftsmanship that goes into these masterpieces. Seems they’ve received a 30 million dollar cash infusion from investors, and the people at the top are hiring the best in the business at every position in order to bring this much heralded name back into the public eye. God I want one. Please mom and dad, oh can I please have an Indian for Christmas? Check ‘em out for yourself at: www.indianmotorcycle.com

There was this one dude, the classic rebel with the long white ponytail, dressed in the traditional biker garb and rode a beautiful “old school” style chopper that was in super mint condition despite being 40 years of age. With long handle bars, spoked wheels, a tiny little gas tank, chrome everywhere, and a rebellious gleaming swastika mounted above the sissy bar, this mutha was no wannabe poser as many an onlooker smiled in delight. And, the man was a perfect gentlemen which is definitely the norm at a gathering like this.

As riders of every type were in attendance, so was my pal, Dave Runfeldt, the honorable mayor of Lincoln Park, New Jersey (also Chiropractor extraordinaire and volunteer firefighter) and owner of a magnificent Harley Davidson Road King, special fireman’s edition. Emblazoned in screaming fire engine red and adorned with flames flowing up the fenders, this big boy turned a hell of a lot of heads – No, not Dave – the friggin’ bike, you dumbass!

And what bike rally wouldn’t be complete without the smokin’ hottie biker chicks clad in their short denim shorties, leather vests, and bulging twin-v’s. I give major kudos to the older gals – the plus 40 ladies who may have added a little umph to their personal cruising weight, but still had the moxie to parade their wares for a dad and his pubescent kid. It’s a pisser because Tommy tries to pretend he’s not looking but I’m sure he was feeling a tad warmer than usual on Friday night.

Incredible machines, tasty cigars, male camaraderie, and hot babes. Damn, what will they think of next?

Ride the wind, brother.

- ZMAN

Here’s the link for remaining 2010 bike and car shows at JR Cigars in Whippany, New Jersey…

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http://www.jrwhippany.com/index.cfm?page=events_bikecarshow_2010

• All shows 6-10pm
• Grillin’ and Chillin’ outside until 8pm cooking up burgers and dogs
• Beer Specials in the bar and lounge
• Free to spectators and car/bike owners