Pool Noodle Homemade Sex Toy, a London Lover, and Assdazzling

Note: Photo contains acceptable level of nudity

Crap, now I need to cover everything I just put in the title so let's just get to it, shall we?

1.  Pool Noodle Violation:  The lovely and smart Enlightened Sexpot wrote, "Your balloon phone sex post made me think of pool noodle sex" and sent along "Pool Noodle Girlfriend" by Patrick McGuire. It's a strangely fascinating interview with a guy who rigged up a pool noodle so he could have his way with it. To make the pool noodle even sexier, he stuck it to the bathroom mirror with a plunger so he could watch himself. Because what could be hotter than seeing himself--a guy living in his parents' basement. Fucking a pool noodle. In his parents' bathroom. 

Here are some of my favorite excerpts:

Did you try those more traditional methods first?
Yeah, and I looked for other materials around the house but I never really found anything. The last place I looked was the garage, and that's where I found the pool noodle. I thought, "Oh wow, that's got a nice texture to it.”
So it called out to you?
Yeah.
OK, then what did you do?
I cut it up while I was on the can so no one would ask me what the fuck I was doing. I was shoving a condom into this thing, and then I saw the plunger and one thing led to another. I think I was plunging the condom into the slit with the plunger and I thought, "Ahh fucking hell! I could stick this to the mirror.” And that's pretty much it.
How long ago was this?
Probably five or six years ago.
And you've been violating pool noodles ever since?
No, I think I only had one pool noodle and making that contraption takes about a third of it. So I think I only did it two or three times because I didn't want my parents to be like, "What the fuck are you doing to all our pool noodles?"
How would you describe the experience then?
It's fun in the making and in action. It's a large item... so what do you do with it afterward? You want to hold onto it but you don't want to buy it breakfast or anything. You kind of think "Maybe I'll keep this thing around for another go, but then you're like "Fuck it, it's garbage day tomorrow, I have to put this in the can.”

Is your pool noodle a dirty dirty slut? My only advice is to check your pool noodle for warning signs: staying in its room a lot, loss of interest in activities it once enjoyed and sobbing at the curb after being rejected on garbage day.

2. Update from Dusky: Dusky, you may recall--if not click here ("I have had one great love and one great lover and they are not the same man"), then here ("I am going to see that old lover")--is a married woman from a country where "agonizing" is amusingly spelled as "agonising." She was sharing insanely torrid emails and texts with her old lover, finally jetted to London to visit said lover and...it was tepid and weird.

I am happy as can be, because at last my London lover emailed me.  He agreed that things hadn't gone as expected, and basically let me down very gently and kindly, suggesting that he and I would always be kindred spirits and friends.  It caused me a final little heart-break to have it all officially OVER, but at last it finally is.  I'm no longer agonising over what I did wrong and wondering what he's thinking - he has given me the perfect closure.  Bastard as he is, his ability to write a perfect email is a damn fine skill that I can't help but adore him for.  Most wonderfully for me it means that I can again remember that early affair fondly, without feeling that it is tainted.  We've simply proved that it doesn't exist anymore, because those younger versions of ourselves no longer exist.  But from time to time I will think of those two lust-crazed people with joy, and it's lovely to know that he will too.

So, closure. Which is good. Or goodish, at least.

3. Your new business. Your welcome.



  A Misguider Googler recently found IBWMW via the search terms "picture of assdazzled" which made me think of this brilliant idea--Assdazzling. It would be a service similar to vajazzling, but for your butt.

My husband said to this, as did Kirkegaard, "There are some things that should not be bedazzled."

Unfortunately, as a World Renowned Anal Bleaching Expert (this, unfortunately, is actually true), I already am quite busy in the ass-related market. So if you are looking for a business opportunity, and enjoy working with both sphincters and tiny pokey rhinestones, I bequeath the Assdazzling market to you.*

xoxoxo
jill

*For a modest donation, I will name you the IBWMW Minister of Assdazzling, which would look mighty fine on a business card.

photo: Herbert List - Sans Titre, 1937

ps circa 2016: this is a rerun, so there are some comments about a part I deleted (re: tiresome ranting on google, sigh, bein' a dick again). 

What is "Adult Content"? Hell, I don't even know anymore.

Please avert your eyes.

The first time I went into a gym locker room when I was a kid, I was completely wigged out that grown-ups were walking around naked. Not because adults were naked--I had seen plenty of that--but because it seemed so arbitrary. Naked in locker room = a-ok. Naked in KMart = alert the police. How could rules be so iron-clad in one place, then completely disregarded in another?

It was a dual morality that seemed a bit pointless. Why were we pretending to be shocked by nudity, when it was obvious from the locker room experience that we could all handle it just fine? Yes, I get that the gender-segregation made it "different," but I think that's crap. If some chick was walking around naked in the Winn-Dixie, we would need to giggle and/or pretend to be scandalized.

I think the same phenomenon is happening right now with sex--this sort of weird combo of pretending, denial, and reacting like we think we're supposed to react.

We are all here via fucking--someone did IT with someone else. Our ancestors made love, they had tepid sex because the ovulation thermometer said it was time, they co-mingled souls and saw God, they slam-fucked on a dirty old couch in the dorm. Everyone* came from someone coming. To ignore that and pretend that sex is still some sort of unspeakable thing that adults cannot even discuss without everyone needing to giggle and/or be scandalized is ridiculous. Ridiculous! And yet it's STILL happening all the time. I don't mind the giggling part, sex is funny, but the scandalized bit, I am just so...done with that.

To wit: Trisha Borowicz has made a smart, funny, amazing film about female pleasure called Science, Sex and the Ladies. It's educational and cheeky. She's been shopping it around to festivals but reports they flat out won't run it because it's "too explicit." "Even festivals that are known for taking risks," she reported via email, though I've added in my head that she was also shaking her head in disbelief.

The film is sort of "explicit," in that it shows stuff like photographs of an aroused clitoris vs. unaroused clitoris, but it's not porn. It's about biology and the history of how society views women's sexual pleasure and how women can best have an orgasm. It's for learnin'. And besides, even if it was porn, these are film festivals, for fuck's sake. When the hell did film festivals get all uptight?

I honestly don't know what's acceptable anymore. Every night on TV there are shows about grisly sexual/violent crimes, but this month Facebook made me take down a photo of a vaguely naked woman. Everyone's mom has read Fifty Shades of Grey, and there were articles in major publications about it, but Google has docked me for my supposed "pornographic content." My friggin' Sunday paper supplement has coupons for vibrators and lubes, but my blog provider (Google, again) has threatened to take down all Blogger blogs with ads for "adult products." Seriously? The dorky newspaper coupon section is more progressive than these supposedly modern, forward-thinking tech companies?

Do we really not get the difference between supposedly offensive content and regular adults just trying to figure out how to have proper sex? Why do we have such a nonsensical patchwork of rules that apply here, but not there? For this body part but not that one?

So, yes, this was supposed to be about Science, Sex and the Ladies, but kind of digressed into ranting. Fear not, next post I will tell you how you can see the movie, for free. People, especially women, need to know how their bodies work. Why is that even controversial? It's madness!

Anyway, tomorrow we talk about the movie and female pleasure.

Til then.
xoxo
jill

*Test-tube babies: even you came from some jizz.

Yes, There's Adult Content. That Would Be Because I'm An ADULT.

Google (misleading company slogan: "don't be evil") is making me take their ads off In Bed With Married Women because of my "violations." Which are, according to them: "adult/pornography" and "adult/explicit text."

It was the last post "big tide nipple fuck sliping in bathroom" that alerted them to my wantonness and adult ways. (Apparently my other posts about fucking inflatable sheep, anal bleaching and whatnot were A-OK.) It's kind of strange because the particular post they objected to was about Misguided Googlers®, and the "explicit text" was directly quoted from searchers that Google had sent me.

In my mind, there is a big-ass difference between pornography and an adult talking about adult things. I mean, fuck, I've birthed two babies, presumably I'm old enough to type the word fuck and post a picture of boobs once in a while. (Strangely, I did hesitate before posting the boob picture with that particular post because it seemed a little too sexy, if something can indeed be too sexy. But in the end, that chick's boobs were just so damn hot -- I had to post the picture.)

To me, pornography is not boobs or butts (Guess what, those are standard issue on humans.) Pornography is local news, the insane amount of murder and torture that is loving fetishized in movies, TV shows and video games, US Weekly ("Stars with cellulite!"), reality programming that demonstrates a woeful misunderstanding of the definition of the word "reality," corporate citizenry, airbrushing, Monsanto's business practices, and such. But I live in the United States in 2011, and here, pornography means sex.

Yes, SEX, as in how everyone reading this got here (except you test tube babies there in the back rows. Uh, no offense.) That's right. Someone did "IT" with someone else. They made love, they stuck cock in cunt, they had tepid sex because the ovulation thermometer said it was time, they co-mingled souls and saw God, they slam-fucked next to the dumpsters behind the Hardee's.

How are we STILL so ashamed of something so natural, human and basic?

*Shrug* Eh, dunno.

Anyway, the revenue stream of the Google ads (though perhaps "stream" is a bit strong a word. The revenue "slightly drippy faucet" perhaps?) is now gone, so I'm wondering what kind of monetizing strategies seem less odious to you, dear Gentle Reader? I, of course, am happy to write for you for free just because I love you so much, but my shareholders are total dicks and are always talking about stuff like "monetization" and "paying the electric bill."

I'm posting a poll over in the margin there on the right. Please weigh in with with your vote. The question is this:
How would you be willing to support IBWMW?

1. By making your regular purchases through the Amazon search box there at right?
2. Buying something via blog link from sex toy company Good Vibrations?
3. Making a direct donation using the Donate button in the right margin?
4. Getting a Kindle subscription to In Bed With Married Women (only 99¢ a month!)
5. Reading it for damn free like always.

Mull it over and let me know.

(photo source)

A Moment of Immaturity In Your Day

A reader sent in this video from Jimmy Kimmel's "Unnecessary Censorship," in which Kimmel takes perfectly benign TV clips and bleeps out a few words, instantly giving them a new R-rated subtext. (Apparently he has been doing this for years but I was none the wiser since I haven't stayed up that late since about 1996.) This version features clips from "Sesame Street," and after seeing this, I now view Elmo in a whole new light.