Friday, August 24, 2012

A Contest: What Word Makes You Cringe?

Caution: Gazing at photo may
cause loss of consciousness. Or
possible "bewilderment."
Today's prize is the Velvet Passion Bullet Vibrator from Good Vibrations, a company that has given me a strange and quite unexpected superpower: Ability To Bestow Sex Toys Upon Random Internet Strangers. I had been hoping for X-ray Vision or, at the very least, Three More Wishes, but hell, you play the cards you're dealt. Which if you're filling out your IBWMW Official Record Book is the very first, and I expect the last, time I have said or written the phrase "play the cards you're dealt."*

Feel free to click here to read all about the Velvet Passion, aka the next thing you might possibly--if you're lucky!--be sticking up your wang. Or, I'll just toss out some buzzwords from the Good Vibes blurb: "velvet softness," "waterproof" and "pulsation patterns." The Velvet Passion also comes with a possibly frightening "memory function." "Remember that time I was up your wang?" "Tssst! Shut up about that!"

The Velvet Passion is, according to the blurb, "visually stunning," perhaps a wee misuse of the word "stunning" [i.e. stunning, (adjective):  causing, capable of causing, or liable to cause astonishment, bewilderment, or a loss of consciousness or strength.] I like a vibrator as much as the next girl, but I don't want to be losing consciousness every time I open up my nightstand drawer. Although, in truth, that particular function could save me quite a bit on my recreational Benadryl budget.

To enter, you must tell me the word that you absolutely cannot say aloud. Mine, oddly, is "vagina." I am also loathe to use the word "clitoris," in both CLIT-oris and cli-TOR-is form. Yes, I clearly have issues, but there is no time for that today. (Or ever, actually, because I do not wish to attend to my issues.)

Anyway, you there with the old, unsightly sex toy, get on it. Think of your icky word, and leave it below as a comment. Or, if the word is especially unsettling, lock yourself in a darkened room, close your eyes and type it trepidatiously into a top secret email. I'll have Stella, head of the IBWMW steno pool, choose a winner Monday.


* I also don't expect to ever write "It is what it is," so you can just cross that one off your list.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

I am going to fuck you so hard, Snuggle.

Snuggle, watch your back.
That's all I'm sayin'.
As I often profess, I'm down with whatever consenting adults want to do. You want to fuck a can opener? Go to town. That said, I am simultaneously fascinated with the fucked-up $%#$ that consenting adults actually end up doing (note: I mean "fucked-up $%#$" in the kindest possible way. I use it here to mean "everything I personally don't want to do." And embarrassingly, I am coming to realize that this category includes a lot of items including: having sex with people in chipmunk costumes, bleaching/dyeing/vajazzing delicate body parts, calling balloon phone sex lines, and, well, I could go on. It's a shamefully long list, really. )

So naturally I was delighted when a wonderful (aren't they all?) In Bed With Married Women reader emailed the results of this plushie survey taken from a plushie website.

Now, if you don't know what a plushie is, well, it's someone who loves stuffed animals. The term encompasses a range--from people merely liking and collecting stuffed animals (like that nice old lady down the street) to people wanting to fuck the living hell out of stuffed animals (like that nice old lady down the street). (Social acceptance hint:  if you're not actually into having sex with stuffed animals, you won't want to refer to yourself as a "plushie.")

Anyway, like I said, I was thrilled to see the survey, because, oh lordy, it was awesome. For example, here are the results to Question 3:
3. What odors do you prefer or desire on your plushies?
    [ 66 ] - new, or with no specific aroma
    [ 47 ] - cum, mild
    [ 43 ] - body sweat, mild
    [ 40 ] - musky, ball-sack aroma from yourself or other people
    [ 26 ] - pee, mild
  * [ 25 ] - musky, real animal scent (ferret, fox, rabbit, deer, etc.)
    [ 19 ] - cum, very strong
    [ 18 ] - body sweat, strong
  * [ 16 ] - incense
    [ 15 ] - perfume or cologne
    [ 15 ] - pee, strong
  * [ 13 ] - musky, tail-hole aroma (fart, poop, etc.)
    Other:   Cinnamon (1), Vanilla extract (2), Bubble Gund (2),
             Tobacco (2), Chocolate (1), Leather (1), Licorice (1),
             Ocean/saltwater (1), Just washed/fabric softener (1),
             Strawberries (1), Mild lemon (1)
I loved it. I mean, c'mon. "Ball sack aroma"? Not only are you going to have your way with poor Mr. Bunnykins, but you are also going to insist he smell like "ball sack aroma"? And, what, exactly, is the polite method of collecting "ball sack aroma" from other people? There was a lot to think about. I pondered something called "plush necrophilia." Did this mean a plush toy doing it with a dead human or a live human with a dead plush toy? And if the plush toy was dead, how was this different from a regular non-living (i.e. dead) plush toy? I learned about plushie porn, she-male plushies and the plushie subcategory that is Beanie Babies (conclusion: Beanie Babies are sexually arousing, yes, but generally too small to fuck. Okay to wear inside your pants). It was all completely fascinating.

But after my initial thrill wore off--Plush toys wearing bondage gear! Plush toy on plush toy action! Something called plush slavery!--I thought, Thank God for the Internet. Seriously. I mean, can you imagine being some kid in Utah who not only wants to have sex with stuffed animals, but also prefers they have "cum smell, mild"? You would feel so completely alone. It's not like you could really bring it up to someone, even a close friend. "Hey Joe, this is kind of weird, but did you ever get really really drunk with your stuffed animals and one thing led to another and...?"

But with the Internet, these folks found each other. Being a plushie in 2011 must be immeasurably better than being a plushie in 1973. Now, Mr. Beanie-Baby-in-his-underwear can find someone who not only gets it, but offers the hint that a pee-covered Beanie Baby makes the experience all the more erotic. Can you imagine what a relief it would be to find such a kindred spirit?

Now, I'm not saying that I want to smear a stuffed animal with poo and have my way with it (Boy, am I ever Not Saying that) but I am glad that if someone does want to do that--and they really do--that they have someone they can talk to about it.

Viva freedom and all that.

Friday, August 3, 2012

Thursday, August 2, 2012

They're Here, They're Queer, Get Used to It

O, Ye Shall pointedly buy chicken sandwiches.

I'm all wigged out today by this article in the L.A. Times, "Chick-fil-A fans and critics take to the streets." It's about how yesterday, a bunch of asshats human beings that I need to love went specifically to Chick-fil-A to buy a sandwich to show that they were against gay people.

Now, although I find the concept of purchasing a chicken sandwich to show your contempt of "the gays" a bit comical ("And a large fries, because I hate cock-sucking a lot, too"), I am a bit horrified by the number of people who thought it was a-ok to make a public appearance as a hater. I mean, even if you were way, way against gayness wouldn't you just cower at home hating gay people privately? Making sure of course, to watch plenty of gay porn to keep tabs on their nefarious ways.

As you may recall, this all happened because the president of Chick-fil-A, Dan Cathy, said some crazy-ass crap in an interview about our nation inviting God's judgement by having "such a prideful, arrogant attitude to think that we have the audacity to define what marriage is about." One might note that the words "arrogant" and "audacity" might also be applied to one is so fucking certain that he knows God's wishes. Or that a man having the last name of Cathy is actually a teensy bit gay. And I am most certainly inviting God's judgement by wondering why a god would create a bunch of gay people if they are indeed so wrong and hateful. I mean, that seems kinda jerkish.*

But whatever, Cathy said what he said. I don't agree with it. But he's a whack old dude, he can say whatever crazy ass crap he likes. I don't think cities should ban his stores or anything because it's a free county. (Well, freeish.)

One of the protestors, Roy Simmons, 60, who was dutifully expressing his disapproval of gay marriage through the purchase of chicken sandwiches said, "With the left, if you don't toe their line and say what they want you to say, they shut you down as a hater, a bigot or a homophobe."

It would probably also be hideously leftist of me to provide Simmons, who is most certainly NOT GAY, with the definition of the word homophobe, which I happen to have right here:
Homophobia is a range of negative attitudes and feelings toward homosexuality or people who are identified or perceived as being lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender (LGBT). Definitions refer variably to antipathy, contempt, prejudice, aversion, irrational fear, and hatred. Usage: "I stood in line at Chick-fil-A to buy a chicken sandwich Wednesday to express such negative attitudes because I am a bigoted, hater, homophobe who is so not gay."**
It might also be a bit crass to direct SO NOT GAY Simmons and the other protestors--some of whom wore Superman costumes to the protest (also completely not gay)-- to this Scientific American article "Homophobes Might Be Hidden Homosexuals."


* If there is indeed a hell, I suspect I'll spend quite a lot of time there re-reading this particular sentence.
**I may or may not have added that last sentence in the definition.
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