Flashback 2004: Femalemuscle meet Fleshbot
Thursday, April 10, 2008 at 10:26 
We weren't able to make it to New York City ourselves last Friday to attend the FemaleMuscle.com live event we posted about a few weeks ago - but we were able to temporarily release our fearless intern from his shackled confines (where we force him to spend eighteen hours a day searching for fresh Lindsay Lohan boob shots) and send him to the Luahn Lounge for an on-the-scene report. Take it away, Matt .
Full disclosure: I am a hearty 120 lbs. of what could never, even on a wildly generous day, be called muscle. I was a straight-C student in gym class, can lift about as much as your average third grader, and am overall completely unqualified to assess someone�s physical prowess. But somehow, camera in hand, I braved the torrential downpours in NYC last Friday evening to attend FemaleMuscle and SheMuscle�s night of female bodybuilding and their stables of sexy stars.
First I shot Gayle Moher, who happily cavorted with Mimi Bowman, flexing biceps roughly the size of my waist and brandishing breasts roughly the size of my head.
I then got to photograph up-and-comer Heather Foster, whose tank top asked the potent question, 'Got Genetics?' I had been under the impression that yes, indeed I did. But not like Heather Foster's. I began to get nervous that I was incapable of fully appreciating the event on a truly essential level. Maybe it just wasn�t in my DNA.
But I brightened up when the evening�s emcee, the lovely Lauren Powers (shown here with Gayle Moher), came up to introduce the bodybuilders onstage. (Online, she endorses liquid egg whites.) Lauren also posed happily with Dré Dillard, who later reappeared with Sheilahe Brown for a Halle Berry-inspired double Catwoman performance: the two shimmied and flexed to early 90s house music around a rather puzzled looking Latino gentleman who had apparently been a requested prop.
As the Catwomen moved offstage to work the crowd, I gathered my camera, my accomplice, and the many business cards that had been forced into my hands over the course of the evening (usually with the words �You have to give me a call. I am far and away the most important person in this business and your website should do a special on me�) and fled into the night. The rain was coming down in sheets, and I remembered that cats — and Catwomen, presumably — hate water. But I'm sure they all made it home just fine. Fleshbot
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