Their World of Love

Inspired in part by Ivan Stang's classic "High Weirdness by Mail," Dan Kelly launched his first zine in 1991 with the help of friends Kathy Moseley and Darrin Sullivan. Their latest creation is Chum, which has detailed the history of cinema sluts, how to be a film snob and the essential elements of cocktail culture. Hunk lover Leslie Stella contributed this selection for Issue 3. "If I could be a girl," says Dan, "I would want to be Leslie—but with a Gucci wardrobe and a tony red sportscar."

I recently had the indistinct pleasure of interviewing two of the world's most adored men: Yanni, Greek musical stylist, and Fabio, Italian subject of photos and illustration and fake butter spokesman. Please enjoy them, as I have.

LS: What is the difference between Yanni and Fabio?
Fabio: It is obvious, is it not? My hair is kissed by the sun, streaked with gold, the same color of the beach near my villa in Italy. It is this same beach where I would crawl out of the waves on my belly to come get you.
Yanni: My tresses are black as midnight, the same color as the night sky over the Acropolis when I played my wonderful concert and made my mother cry.
F: Also, I am a very masculine man. I like to wear the chest-revealing shirts. My chest-or my breasts, as I like to call them-is a very big chest. I lift the weights to increase the size. A woman likes to see that I can carry her over the beach, or over some rocks if they are in the way.
Y: I give the ladies strength through my music to carry themselves.

LS: Do you feel that your audiences cross over at all? Do you have the same fans?
Y: Me, I would say no. A person must love sweet music first in order to love me, even though my wavy hair and large mustache are tempting. A fan of Fabio is primarily interested in his breasts.
F: That is typical, coming from a Greek. The women may love my body, my hair, my strength and smell. But they love most that I am able to bring out their most womanly qualities. My fans are not interested in silly electronic orchestras. They want the reality of a man enfolding his powerful arms around their tender bodies.

LS: What was the most important event in your career?
F: My fragrance contract. You have seen the pictures in the magazines, no doubt. I am naked and am crawling out of the Mediterranean on my belly to come get you.
Y: Again, I refer back to my concert at the Acropolis. I wept during one particularly moving piece of mine. Also to know that my mother say weeping in the audience next to my lady love Linda Evans, this made me feel so special inside.

LS: How do you respond to the accusation people have made about your work being fluffy and shallow?
Y: What people? Who is saying this?
F: I am sure I do not know what you mean. I am Fabio, I pose for romantic book covers, I am in the magazines, I give pleasure. No one has complained.

LS: Why just one name?
Y: My last name is too hard for the ladies to pronounce. Let them know that I will always be their Yanni. No more, no less.
F: It is more romantic, no? "Fabio" It just sound more sexual. You do not say, "Mr. Tiger" or "Sir Lion of the Forest." You just say "tiger" or lion." Growling like a savage animal-"tiger!" "Fabio!"

LS: Is there any love on the horizon for Fabio?
F: Only one woman for me? Look at me! Fabio is made for pleasure-giving. I want to enjoy many women, and to let them enjoy me. But when a woman is with me, for that short time she is my woman. She feels the specialness, the pleasure, of me and my woman pleasure-giving, my special sensualness and...uh...our sensual pleasure-making.
Y: I give Linda Evans plenty of pleasure.

LS: Do you see any plans for a collaboration between Yanni and Fabio? Perhaps a Fabio workout video set to Yanni's music?
Y: I am afraid I do not see this happening. Yanni's ladies would feel sick at the sight of Fabio's vulgar twitching set to my beautiful music.
F: I must agree. Fabio's women could not bear the offense of watching my strongness be encompassed by Yanni's girlish piano tinklings.

LS: Thank you both.

Pick up a copy of Leslie Stella's novel, Fat Bald Jeff.