Last night I stopped into the store Rainbows & Triangles in Chelsea (now closed) and came across Ricky Martin's new book, a memoir titled Me. (Not to be confused with Katherine Hepburn's similarly titled autobiography.) However, paging through it, I was sorely disappointed to discover that there were no photos in it. Sure, the cover is sexy as hell but that should've served as the appetizer. He's taking himself much too seriously if he thinks fans are going to buy the book solely for his writing. Bottom line, a book about Ricky Martin without photos is like buying a CD of his greatest hits without the hit song La Vida Loca on it.
This is the kind of eye candy I was hoping to see - times 10!