Showing posts with label fresh balls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fresh balls. Show all posts

Monday, February 11, 2013

Fire Down Below!!!

1. We, as a people, can be unsmart
"Surely there's a blog in this," writes a reader from Long Beach, California, directing my attention to Ow! Public Hair Grooming Injuries on the Rise, Researchers Find. Feel free to click over to the article, though the title pretty much spells it out.

It's not horribly surprising news. Razors, scissors and/or hot wax  + delicate nether regions = someone's goin' to the emergency room. I am more surprised by the fact that there are any researchers scoring funding to follow this important issue, let alone a team of them. The best part is they got paid to go through old Playboys where they were supposedly analyzing the amount of pubic hair on centerfolds, which is researcher-speak for "just reading the articles."


2. Stuff to Put Between Your Legs
 I know I've become completely unhip when I'm getting sexual information from the Sunday newspaper coupon supplement--home of ads for pastel colored stretch pants, for fuck's sake--but that's exactly what's happened. This Sunday's coupon supplement, clearly working blue, had ads for a Vibrating Tri-phoria Intimate Massager and Trojan Intensified Charged Orgasmic Pleasure condoms, which judging from the packaging (left) are like Emergen-C for your junk. Or you could just put a few Pop Rocks and some Dr. Pepper in your condom and save yourself some money.

For display purposes only
Meanwhile, Playtex is hawking "Fresh + Sexy Before and After Intimate Wipes" in tampon box-like packaging that says both "New!" and "Nouveau!" to give them that continental flair. You are to wipe yourself with these before sex to make sure that your snatch smells clearly of hand sanitizer. Then, afterwards, you leap out of bed to OCDishly scrub yourself of your lover's offending essence. The product, btw, is marketed toward both sexes, so that men can enjoy the gender equality of frantically "sanitizing" their balls, pre-love. I say we all just encase ourselves in thick plastic, ala your old lady neighbor's "good" living room furniture, and be done with it. Or, if you're on the go, just hang a couple of pine tree air fresheners down there for a quick fix.

3. Experience the Zestra Rush. Because I'm too Scared.

Via Twitter, a reader suggested I try out an arousal oil called Zestra and experience something called the Zestra Rush. I watched a video of a middle-aged woman online who was experiencing said rush there on camera and she seemed happy enough, so I asked the company for a sample. I was all into the idea until my friend and I decided to look up the reviews on Amazon and they were wretched. Stunningly so.  I became fascinated by the way the reviewers tried to capture the exact badness of the smell or horrific feeling it gave to the crotchal region. Behold these actual reviews.

--It smells bad, like a nauseating burnt candy smell, sweet and bad at the same time.
-- The smell is so disgusting powerful, basal and kind of oily soapy that it was hard for us to even stay focused.
-- ...the smell of the product reminds me of latex gloves.
-- It literally smells like a fast food restaurant.
-- The smell is so bad I gagged!....The worst part is I couldn't wash the smell away. I washed my hands 3 times and it wouldn't go away! 
 --I was so sickened by the stench of it that I was barely able to continue consummation!...My wife and I finished with the "process", but two minutes after we recovered, we turned to one another and said, "Ok, is it me or does this stuff smell like dirty bacon grease?"
-- It smells horrible. Like.. rotten pork mixed with plastic. And as if the smell wasn't off putting enough, after application I felt like I had fire crotch!...this just made it complete misery.
-- It was probably the equivalent of rubbing Oragel on your genitals. My husband said it was the worst thing he had ever tasted.
--My wife stated it was like rubbing kerosene on herself and lighting it.
-- I have tried the product and had a horrible burning sensation that would not cease. Had to literally keep cold water on the area to get some relief. DO NOT BUY, DO NOT ORDER A SAMPLE, STAY AWAY FROM THIS PRODUCT!!!

So now I am completely afraid to use it. But maybe some of you have no such qualms? I have four little packets of it that I am generously willing to give to four of you if you're into the fire crotch thing. (There were some good reviews...you might be one of the ones who like it...)

If you feel like playing fast and loose with your groin and trying some of this stuff, just drop me a line or leave a comment saying you want some. (Don't worry, if you leave a comment and don't specifically say you want some, I'm not forcing it upon you.)

Anyone feeling brave? First come, first served...
(Photo)


Tuesday, November 15, 2011

This is Kind of A Strange Question, But Does Your Teddy Bear Have A Boner?

There are two types of inventors -- the Steve Jobs type, coming up with brilliant, useful products replete with zen-like beauty and then there is...everyone else.

Like whoever the fuck invented this thing, shown there on the left.

This product, as near as I can tell, is called This Teddy Bear Hides Your Sex Toys in a Secret Pouch. Which I guess is a good enough name since that's exactly what it is.

This poor Teddy is upsetting to me because I picture the dude who invented it (Yes, I know it's sexist, but in my mind, this inventor's a guy. And don't be trying to change my mind. I'm pretty firm on this one). Anyway I think of him coming home and telling his wife, "Baby, call your boss and quit your job at the cannery because right here, I've got our ticket out of this rat hole!" Then he proudly whips out the plans for This Teddy Bear Hides Your Sex Toys in a Secret Pouch.

The wife sighs quietly to herself. One gets the feeling that it's just the latest in a long line of sighs that have come with marrying this guy.

I mean, did he not think this through at all? There are so very many ways this is a bad idea.

--First and most importantly, a stuffed animal prominently displayed on the bed is not a guaranteed Mate Attracter. Many, I among them, would argue that it would be more accurately categorized as Mate Repellent.

--If you have kids and want to keep them away from something, a stuffed animal is most assuredly not your best bet. The vegetable drawer in the fridge might be a better choice, or hey, how 'bout trying the night stand drawer like everyone else in the world?

--Except for Plushies, bless those dear, dear stuffed animal fuckers (see also: I Am Going To Fuck You So Hard, Snuggle), stuffed animals and sex just don't go together. Can you imagine rolling about in bed with someone, they get a mischievous look in their eyes and say, "Would you like to try something new?" Then they seductively bring out... their Teddy Bear? No, no, no. And, btw, that sound you hear is genitals shriveling up and scurrying to find a safe place to hide under the bed.

--Pavlovian conditioning. You grab your Teddy Bear, you get out your toy, you have an orgasm. Repeat repeat repeat until, in your mind, Teddy Bear = orgasm. (see above, Plushies) 

--$39.99!  No way, mister, for that kind of money, I'll rip a sex toy hole in my own damn Teddy Bear.

--But main objection to the idea is, well, this:


Right.

xoxoxo
jill

P.S. I found this Back Boner-Having Teddy Bear at Shop In Private, a site featuring all manner of embarrassing products. Loved it as sort of an anthropological study about what sorts of things our society deems to be embarrassing. There were adult diapers, butt lifting lingerie, pubic wigs, lice shampoo, Journey cds, anal douches, back shavers, small sized condoms, cream to keep your balls smelling "fresh" and "The Big Boy Package Appearance Enhancer" (sold out).

Have a look, but be forewarned, when I was there, I inadvertently activated an informational video on the site, and some dude started talking about "coochie shaving cream" in a Really Loud Voice.