Santa Fetish, Big-Ass Labia, and Ancient Sex Advice

I have a Very Special gift for you both.

I was looking though the Amazon list of stuff y'all weirdos bought and someone ordered a copy of  "Snowballin': I Fucked Frosty" a book whose title is its own spoiler. This snowballed (sans fuckery, alas) into me trudging around through the ancient backwaters of the blog. It's weird to read myself of the past, maybe it will be for you too. I do hope that this post marked my personal max for using the word "clit," a word I fervently wish had an alternative.

 Anyway, step into my time machine with me into 2012. Might want to wear a helmet. There are a lot of loose clits flying about. (And PS, it gets pretty fucking gross in here today.) 

 ********

Random detritus from the IBWMW inbox.

--That is Some Good Lookin' Labia

Caitlin Grace, a Wellbeing Coach in New Zealand, sent in this documentary called The Perfect Vagina, about chicks getting plastic surgery on their "fannies," as they call them overseas. As you may recall, I am against the cutting of one's sexual organs--up to and including fannies--in order to look like all of the other Sneetches, and this vid let me stay comfortably within my cozy worldview.

Go have a look if you'd like--it's free. A caveat: cover your eyes during the highly graphic surgery scene. Slabs of skin cut off! Slabs! Which not only burned a permanent discomforting image into my brain, but also led to the following Unproductive Thought Spiral (which seems to be happening more frequently now that I've had to switch from expensive "name brand" Lexapro to a generic made in a foreign land and sold at Costco for $6.99.)

To wit:
1. Became concerned with how said vag slabs are disposed of. You can't just toss 'em in the trash, right? Compost pile? Surely it's not e-waste. Which reminded me of...
2. The Mystery of the Possibly Missing Clit and  @jeannehospod's snarky Twitter answer: "check jeans pocket" which gave me the unsettling image of a linty clit in a jeans pocket. Making it even worse, she continued, "Cleaning the lint catcher on the dryer should prevent that. 'Oh there's a dime, foil gum wrapper, and...ooh! there it is!'" Which made me think of...
3. All the moles dermatologists cut off and how there is someone working at a lab somewhere who walks into work and is confronted with a bunch of little packets containing tiny little moles that they must cheerfully examine. But I digress.

Anyway, today when I was looking at the Perfect Vagina site, I learned that the reasons for labioplasty include this:

some women complain that...riding a bike is uncomfortable

Which just makes me curious how fucking big, labia-wise, we're talking. I mean, to be uncomfortable on a bike, they'd have to be...what?...like getting caught in the wheels? So big you don't need any padding on your seat? I mean, if they're "can you tie 'em in a knot, can you tie 'em in a bow" size, hell, maybe I am supportive of a little nip and tuck.

Now unclear on my labial worldview.  Leave me alone.

--Oh, Santa. Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, SSssssssssaaaaaantaaaaa, oh God, yes!

The holiday season is coming up which means it's time to start thinking about Santa, particularly how sexy it would be to have him pull down his velvety red pants then slowly slide his snowy white pubes against your throbbing center. Because, yes, a Santa fetish is a real thing.

A Santa fetish can involve being fucked by Santa, or alternately, being Santa and fucking others. Today, for example, on porn site xnxx there are 287 videos tagged with the word "Santa." (If you have a spare moment and an easily erasable search history, I would urge you to look the sheer crazy-ass variety of specialty tags there representing a wide variety of human sexual expression* including "mother-in-law," "poltergeist," uh-oh--hold the phone on that labioplasty-- a stunning 1178 videos for "mega pussy lips." And I presume they mean the still-attached kind. Though at this point I'm pretty sure that someone somewhere is probably jerking off to the thought of a medical waste bin chockful of removed, oh god, never mind, I'm not even going to finish that sentence.)

In case you're thinking it's just porn-obsessed dirty pervs with the Santa fetish, sensitive literate folk get hot for Santa fuckery as well. Here's a selection from the story Sara's Santa Fetish--it's Santarotica, a word I hope I just made up.

"I know what you've been thinking, I know for what you long, and tonight's a special night indeed, because Santa isn't wrong," he spoke, rhyming the words as if singing a verse from Santa Claus is Coming to Town. "I know when you lay in bed at night, your body longs for me, and tonight I'll make your dreams come true, Sara I'll set you free."

Oh there's more. Plenty more.

The fantasies flashed in her mind like movie trailers of the oft-repeated nights she lay in bed at night, thighs wide, fingering her clit while rubbing a wig or other such prop against her inner legs as if to replicate the feel of facial hair, a beard... Santa's beard. She'd thought of the things he'd do to her, of the pleasure he would bring, but - but -

"It's happening, Sara," he promised with a soft, belly-shaking chuckle. "Lean back and enjoy this very special gift."

I don't why I love this so much. Maybe it has something to do with the usual erotica tropes--the straining nipples, bucking hips and the like coupled with the Santa-y references to jolliness, his "silky soft beard," and that "soft, belly-shaking chuckle."

"Enjoy this very special gift" indeed. "Gee, Santa, is it your cock? Seriously?  Again?"

--Sex Advice from 2000 Years Ago.
Maybe it's the overseas "Lexapro" talking, but I'm reading a recent translation of the Kama Sutra and discovered some Ancient Wisdom to pass on to you:

Making Oneself Attractive

"The eye of a peacock or hyena, put inside a locket of gold and worn on the right hand, renders one attractive."

You already knew that one? Okay then, here's one for the gentlemen.

Bewitching a Woman

"Sex with a woman when the penis is smeared with honey mixed with a powder of thorn apple, black pepper and long pepper will bewitch her into one's power. Using a powder made of wind-blown leaves, flowers left on a corpse and peacock bones has the same effect."

xoxox
jill

*none of them, unfortunately, with the tag "Marc Maron."

My Most Failed Joke of All Time

I have a thing for failed jokes. I love them. I collect them and savor them later.

One of my favorites is when I was returning a pair of pants and the clerk asked, "Reason for return?" "They're haunted," I said. Clerk edges away and speaks no more.

Or the time my neighbor and I were discussing a local vet's penchant for suggesting unnecessary surgery. "Oh," I said, looking at my dog, "Maybe I won't get Daisy that boob job then." Neighbor stares at me. Discomfort ensues.

I don't know why I like failed jokes so much. Maybe it's because it's so completely bad and awkward in the moment that celebrating them is only way to process it.

My latest failed joke, however, isn't gonna go down that way. It was a post I just did for Jezebel about vagina panties. (Sound familiar? It ran here first.) The idea was that instead of women getting unnecessary cosmetic labiaplasties they could instead just pop on a pair of these, panties with a vagina built right in:

You know, no muss, no fuss, fairly cheap, you can change 'em out as labia "styles" change... Ha ha--that was the joke. Whatever.

You may as well know this first. I also called this sort of cosmetic surgery "retarded," which was dumb. I thought that we had come to a point where we could judge from context whether retarded was a cruel and deliberate mockery of a mentally-challenged person vs. an adjective for something poorly thought through. I thought "retarded" had entered the vernacular, as did former medical terms "idiot" and "moron." But clearly it hasn't. I obviously regret that people felt hurt by my use of the term.

So yes, I get and am sorry for the whole "retarded" thing and my ableist ways.

However, here's what else Jezebel readers complained about: (I realize intellectually that Jezebel commentators are famous for being particularly vitriolic and uber-PC, but it was still pretty shocking to me how completely misunderstood my message was and how personal the attacks were. "Fuck you, Jill Hamilton!" being one such input. You can head over to Jezebel and view the carnage if you wish. You should probably take a pair of protective goggles along.)

Anyway, the complaints:

--I am mocking transfolk.*
This, I guess, comes from the fact that I wrote that the panties intended purpose was for "cross-dressers, transfolk and the like." Because that's what they're for.  Their product description says:

"Wearable Vagina, Vagina Panty for Crossdressing, Tranvestite and Transgender (S/M (30-36" Waist), Nude)." 

It was intended as a factual and neutral statement like "Skis are worn by skiers." Someone was furious because by saying transfolk instead of just folk, I was making transfolk different. Which I was, because in the one instance of who these panties were designed for--and that instance only--transfolk are different.

Perhaps I am wrong. Maybe there might be a day when I, a non-transgendered person, might want to pop on a pair and sport a double vagina look. Or hell, maybe two pairs and go triple vag. "You like what you see? I've got two more where that came from, honey."

--I am mocking women who had labiaplasty for medical reasons.
Jesus, how much of a jerk do they think I am? If you need the surgery, go to it, sister. If, however, you are like this woman who wrote to In Bed With Married Women a few months ago...

I was married to my high school sweetheart for 15 yrs. We recently divorced, and he has no qualms about telling me before, during, and after our marriage, how ugly my vagina is. I started looking into medical intervention...

...perhaps a bit of sisterhood support (i.e. your vagina is gorgeous and he was a controlling asshole) might negate the desire for the surgery.  I highly recommend Large Labia Project, a site that empowers women to celebrate their different sizes and shape of labia via photos and reader letters.

--I mentioned Naomi Wolf's book Vagina: A New Biography which someone was angry about because they didn't like the book.
 What? I like that book. Suck it.

--I used the term vagina for vulva.
That's because the panties are called "vagina panties"--officially, for fuck's sake. And everyone knows what we're talking about anyway. That's the term Naomi Wolf uses as well and since I've already tossed my lot in with her, I'm sticking with it.

I also used the term Kleenex today, when more properly I should have said Kleenex Brand Facial Tissues. Please take up the issue with your congressperson.
 
xoxox
jill, a total cunt, possibly

*If you are transgendered and were offended by this, please explain to me your objections. I do take that one seriously and since I'm non-trans (CIS), I could very well be completely tone deaf on the topic. I don't want to be that guy who's like, "What's she so mad about? I just asked her if she's on the rag?" If you could just tell me your concerns, instead of yelling and possibly avoid the sentence, "Fuck you, Jill Hamilton," I'd be grateful.

(image via Lady Cheeky, aka Smut for Smarties)