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). 

On Masturbation. And My Two, Possibly Three, Favorite Sex Toys.

Photo by Jimmy Detroit

"Your kisses are as wicked as an F-16/and you fuck like a volcano and you're everything to me," Liz Phair, Supernova.

Do you know the grand fuckery of which she speaks? The insane lust, the deep primal wanting, "Lips sweet and slippery/Like a cherub's bare wet ass." God, I do.

The thing is, most of the time I'm not there. And, given what you've been telling me lately, I think the same might be true for a lot of you.

If your sex life is such that masturbation is what's happening, and you'd like to fuck around (quite literally) with some new technology, I have a couple toy suggestions for you and that lonely bed of yours.

Why should you listen to me? Well, I'll tell you, smarty-pants.

--Between writing for Cosmo, AlterNet and this blog, I have had to put a fuck of a lot of whirring, sucking, vibrating things between my legs. Because that is MY JOB. Yes. God, or The Force or whatever, is good.

--Something about Malcolm Gladwell's theory of putting in 10,000 hours at anything to become an expert. 

Yes, my friends, I have been to the mountain top, sex toy-wise, and I've come back down, limping a little but full of Wisdom, to tell you my top two suggestions.

--If you are only buying one toy:

Oh darlin', I will rock your world.

The LELO Ora 3 The World's Most Sophisticated Oral Sex Simulator is expensive as hell but, damn, the thing is an excellent lay. It ministers to you via various vibration patterns and a little ball that makes lazy little circles or half-circles exactly where you want it to. You can just cycle though the patterns, and it feels like the best lover you ever had. I'm totally serious. It even seems to know exactly how long to pause before you completely lose it.

On the other hand, I looked at the Amazon reviews and some other people said it was weak, or unsuitable or whatever, so remember that everyone's body is different and just because I tell you to put something between your legs doesn't mean you'll like it as much as I did. (You should, however, DEFINITELY listen to my advice to never put that Sqweel whirlygig thing anywhere near your cooter. Trust me on this.

Man, that smarts.

(Further disclaimer: if you buy the Ora through this link, Amazon will give me like 2% or something. So if you buy like 28 million of them, I should be pretty good. Trickle down economics in action!)

--If you want to spring for 2 toys:

Allow me

I'd recommend the Womanizer, used in tandem with a g-spot vibrator (any will do, I use a Butterfly Bliss because I got it for free.) Between the gentle sort of suction motion of the Womanizer (maybe give it a different name in your head) and the low throbs of g-spot vibe on the inside, you will be a wreck, in the finest of ways.

(And yes, if you use the link to buy Das Womanizer and/or the Bliss, Good Vibrations will send me a 20% kickback, so you'd only need to buy about 3 million of them.)

Anyway, I'm not telling you this so you buy some merch, I'm saying it to sort of mark a shift in my head. Sex can be beautiful and scary and transcendent and super hot (or not.) And yes, of course it's preferable to have someone going mad for the way your boobs look when you unhook your bra, and being with someone brave enough dive into that Unknown with you, and just sort of bearing witness to whatever goes down. (Perhaps an agreeable Quaker, experienced in bearing witness, would be good here....though perhaps I'm not fully understanding the concept.)

However, even if it's just you, sans pervy Quaker, that sexual force is still there. And it seems hugely important to activate that power, whether by hand, sexy sucking toy thing or any non-Sqweel partner.

Henceforth, when loving the one I'm with is just...me, I am hereby ditching my previous habit of taking note of all the ways I am not sharing that experience (i.e. "Holy hell, they'd love to see this, hear this, feel this...") and getting all tragic about it. (For the record: Sobbing and coming at the same time is indeed dramatic and occasionally hot, but not that great as a Everyday Lifestyle Choice.)

Instead I'm going to revel in what does go down. It's still good. Sometimes damn good. And like jMadsen, but less naked, I will transfer that energy out into the damn world.

Huzzah, motherfuckers.

xoxo
jill


P.S. If you'd like to order a print of the Jimmy Detroit photo above, email him at JimmyDetroitx@gmail.com or contact him via  Facebook. Friend of the Blog, Great Guy! Plus real Art, highly affordable!

Advice To Greg Abner, My Would-Be Email Lover

Dear "Greg Abner,"

Congratulations! You're almost there in perfecting your unsoliticed-email-leads-to-romance-leads-to-some-poor-chick-sending-you-a-few-thousand-dollars-for-your-airfare/life-saving operation/ outstanding business opportunity! Just a few more tweaks and you're ready to go!

Here's my take on it:

Personalize: When women receive unsolicited email from a total stranger, they want to feel like the stranger sees that "special something" about them. For example, in your random Facebook email to me, you write:

What a great smile.......I bet your smile is capable of sweeping any man off his feet....

Okay, just for reference, here is the photo to which you refer:

In it, I am trying to look thoughtful and artsy. Although, as my friend Audrey unkindly and unfortunately more accurately put it, "You look like you just stumbled into an alley and are looking for your shoes." Another of my delightful friends, Paul, said "You look hot and mentally imbalanced." We needn't quibble over whether I look hot or crazy, or whether or not I eventually found my shoes in that alley (answer: I didn't find "my" shoes, exactly but found "some" shoes that "sort of fit.") The point is that we all agree that I am not smiling. Again, KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE. Study your lucky lady's photo and write something personal. Like, "You look mentally imbalanced." Or perhaps, "I happen to sell shoes."

Okay, let's move on. Greg, in your message, you continue:

Your terrific hair do is just out of this world.Please make my day by writing back.

Really? You think so? I love it too! It's all freaky and wild and...wait a minute...did you just call it a "hair do"? I'm sorry, Greg, but that's the kind of slip-up that's going to alert a potential victim special lady that you're either not from around here or that you're a pervy old lady from 1947.

Your Facebook profile could use a little work as well. "Your" photo is fine. Let's have another look at that stock photo you carefully selected:

I kind of wish someone in a lower age demographic was writing to me, but, that's okay, I think the older gentleman look works. It's more believable than some shirtless, rippled youngster trying to chat me up. I'm not stupid. I've seen Catfish, you know. (If you haven't, do check it out. It's a nice little indie film.)

I have no problem with your claim that you are British (a nice touch!) and that you now live in Denver, Colorado. However, your "About Greg" section could use a few little touch-ups. Don't worry, it will just take a sec. You write:

Easy going , starigth forward and laid back retrospective kind of guy, my friends say i'm nice to a fault but i can't wait to know what you think about that..... i know i have a kind heart that a lotof people tend to take advantage of most of the time.i'm looking to meet some old school friends/mates and some interesting new friends .

Maybe you could let one of your fellow Brits "have a look," as they say in your former stomping grounds, at your punctuation and grammar. "Straight" not "starigth,""lotof" is not a word, and whatnot. Also strike "I can't wait to know what you think about that" from your profile entirely. When you use it here, it sounds like you're trying to pick anyone and everyone up. That will not do.  Remember, make the lady feel special. The time to bring out that gem is once you are corresponding with your beautiful lady with the out-of-this-world hair-do, and she's starting to weaken to your considerable charms.

And lastly, in the photo that you labeled "me and my daughter," you've neglected to realize that your daughter is not actually in the picture. Such inattentive parenting could be seen as a "turn off" to a prospective mate.

But don't worry, you've almost got it! Just a few more tweaks and you will be darn near irresistible. Soon that money will be rolling in! And, if you'd like, I have a few Special Secret Tips for just for you, because I think we've made a connection today. I'm sure you feel it, too. I just need a little plane fare to come visit you so I can start giving you your personalized Special Secret Tips right away!

The Results of the Big-Ass Giveaway!

Early prototype of the blow job machine

I'm back from the United States Post Office where I was mailing unspeakably smutty packages to readers around the globe. If you did not get an email from me saying you won something in The Big-Ass Giveaway, you indeed didn't win. Sorry, I totally wish you did.

I'm especially sorry to the many many readers who wanted that blow job machine--some of you are my favorite readers of all times! In a fair world, your dick and/or the dick of someone you love would be getting sucked off by an oddly loud and large-sized machine at this very minute. This very minute!

But fear not, I still have more stuff that I'll give away at some point, like a pair of jeweled pasties I can't see ever using ("I'll save these in case there's an earthquake and all my regular clothes are destroyed.")

I also have lots of stuff--sadly, used only one (also: used only once sadly)--which I guess I'm gonna have to send to one of those sex toy recycling places because I don't want to have super embarrassing garbage. First to go is going to be an abusive Sqweel "oral sex massager" I tested which I'm quite fucking sure I'll never press between my legs ever again. The heinous toy was like a windmill of angry chihuahua tongues, striking a delicate body part with a surprising amount of loud whirring fury. I completely agree with Michelle's succinct Amazon review "It horrible."

We are never ever ever getting back together.

Anyway, the best part of the giveaway was hearing from so many readers and remembering how smart and cool you all are. A delightful new reader Steve (delightful due to both his penchant for flattery and using that rusty old donation button there at the right) noted your greatness straightaway writing, "This is perhaps the best blog I have ever followed, as not only do we get a warm, thoughtful, intelligent, (insert other positive adjectives here) exposition of a very smart lady's thoughts, but she has created a space that has attracted a number of amazingly smart, generous, witty followers." Steve also awarded himself an IBWMW ministerial position, Minister of Music (it was part of a larger metaphor), which is fine with me. At IBWMW, as in many places, you can totally buy yourself a title.

Also I have to admit that the contest wasn't truly fair. I vetoed anyone who seemed creepy. (If you did win, I suppose you passed that particular test. For now. Although if you didn't win, it does not necessarily follow that you were deemed creepy. I could make a Venn diagram for you on the matter, but lack the graphic design savvy of even a MacPaint-using citizen of 1994). I also unfairly let Trisha, a bad-ass blogger, filmmaker and FOB, win the vintage Hustler due to this entry:

I want the vintage Hustler sooooooo bad. I will both do good orgasm-equality, feminist work with it by SSL reviewing it from cover to cover in a very special IBWMW-won Vintage Hustler Review Series for my blog, and I will also masturbate to it, because that's the kind of person I am. 

And as long as I'm confessing, I also would probably have given the cute guy who wrote to me on Facebook pretty much whatever he wanted, but he neglected to ask.  

And several of you inquired about my whereabouts lately, a few offering theories. My favorite was that I was off seeing someone, too overcome with ravishment via gorgeous cock, I suppose, to crawl over to the computer and type a few words. The truth is that I've been busy spending whatever writing brain I have on projects that pay better than you, like:

--writing sex position tips for Cosmo
--an oral sex story for Cosmopolitan magazine that's not out yet (super fun, but with the extreme space/word count limits of old-school print, it was kind of like writing some sort of weird BJ-themed haiku.)
--an interview with Jami Rodman, former elite escort and Las Vegas Madam for AlterNet
--stuff for a family magazine, who I won't link to so as not to besmirch them with my sexed-up traffic.

I was also enjoying some abject depression, possibly due to writing things that don't have to do with you and/or the notable absence of work-ruining gorgeous cock ravishment.

xoxox
jill

PS. Giveaway feel free to report back your findings re: your prize. Even if "it horrible." 

Big Ass Giveaway! (Note: Not Giving Away Actual Big Ass. This Time.)

I AM GIVING AWAY A BUNCH OF FREE SEX STUFF. 

Yes, I am rich in sexy items and wanted to share some with you, in some sort of fucked up way of saying Thank You.

So, like Eminem, I'm Cleanin' Out My Closet, but finding sex toys instead of psychological damage. (Oh, there's plenty of that back there, too. I'm not completely deluded. Just didn't seem like that fun of a prize.)

Here's what I have for you today. (For the record, I don't get any kickbacks or anything for these, I just like sex and am super thrifty--a delightful combination. I can't stand that these would be going unenjoyed, like lonely little residents of the Island of Misfit Sex Toys.)

1.  Autoblow 2

This is a pretty major blow job machine. Kind of like a really big fleshlight, but it plugs in and does all the work itself.  Comes with a "B" size insert, so I suppose you or your lover should have a B-sized wiener (as opposed to A or C). Generally costs, like, $160 bucks.


2.  Slaphappy Bendable Couples Vibe

The Autoblow people gave me an extra one of these as well (again, don't worry, it's a different one!) and I love it. It's a nice, pretty strong vibe, though I don't get the aspect that it's also supposedly a G-Spot vibe. It's pretty damn wide and I was not gonna put that thing inside of me. Also can be pressed into service, as it were, on a guy during general fuckery or hand/blow jobs.

 3.  Wicked Awaken

A "stimulating clitoral massaging gel." It's vegan, and herbaly, is created "to heighten sensitivity and enhance libido." That sounds good, yes?





 4. Fill Me In:  Adult Colouring

A groovy Adult Colouring Book created by a super cool, sex positive chick named Sarah who is British and wastes extra "U"s like they're free. Also included is a greeting card with the image there at left and a colourable desk calendar which is now only semi-usable seeing that it's already March. (My fault).  Love her and want to support the fuck out of her.

5.  PrimalDerma
 

PrimalDerma is skincare lotion/goo/slipperyness that's made from beef tallow. Which sounds kind of gross, but actually is kind of a non-issue in any ways that you'd suspect. I have been rubbed down with this stuff and it was pretty fucking amazing. It's slidey, but absorbs into your skin insanely well, so you can have your way with it in a variety of ways.

I actually have more stuff: a "jumbo" butt plug, a vintage issue of Hustler and such, but I grow weary with you now.

Let me know what you want* and we'll get this started, motherfuckers.

xoxox
jill

*Contest Rules:  Tell me which one(s) you want, in the comments below or via email at jillhamilton001@gmail.com. I'll pick a random winner for each thing. I'll even ship that $%#@ to your door at my expense. And I won't even be a child and write what's inside in huge letters on the outside of the box. Deadline is March 18. 

In return, perhaps you could do a solid for the blog:

--Like the IBWMW Facebook page or like a post or two there.
--Follow on Twitter.
--Share a post, this contest, or tell someone about the blog.
--Mention the blog in your prayer group.
--Fantasize about the blog during a private moment.

Holidays I Forgot to Celebrate and Other Things That Are Not About the Man Fucking the Hornet's Nest

Right, so I was all primed to write about that Swedish guy who died after fucking a hornet's nest (64 stings to the genitals! Hideously enlarged genitals!) except for the very annoying fact that the story turned out to be a hoax.

That's all I had, so I turned to you, dear readers, to come up with the rest of the post. And luckily, you were all over that.

Tricia, for example, shared the news of International Clitoris Awareness Week with the 1,295 citizens of In Bed With Married Women's Facebook page.  The event was organized by "Clitoraid," a Las Vegas-based group usually devoted to helping victims of female genital mutilation around the world. Unfortunately, the holiday was last week, so you are free to resume your usual baseline level of clitoral awareness. I bring it up, however, just so that I can say that "Clitoraid" sounds like the worst drink ever.

However, if you bought a bunch of festive clitoral holiday lights on clearance, hang 'em back up over the mantle, because Leah emailed the important news of a Masturbate-A-Thon to celebrate Masturbation Month.  "Are you participating?" she wrote, in what I took to be an unkind manner. I actually should have known about this since it was started in 1995 by my corporate overlords at Good Vibrations. (2 day free shipping if order something thru this link and spend $150+, which is spendy, but it is your genitalia...) Unfortunately, Leah, I will not be participating in any of the festivities because public masturbation and ejaculation contests just make me want to put plastic slipcovers over everything. And not in a cool plastic fetish way, but a weird uptight lady way. 

Meanwhile, lovely Brit Dicky Carter, who uses excellent words like "knackered" (translated from the British="tired"), sent along the article "Deep Inside the Biggest Little Dildo Factory in Texas" which is worth it for the pictures alone. Like this one of a woman facing yet another day of dildo vein-painting:

*sigh* 

 

xoxo

jill

P.S. I am housesitting and using my friend's computer.  Should I leave the photo of the dildo-painting lady on her computer? Her search history is already now a ravaged, slutty mess and I've only been here a couple hours. (Moral: It is unwise to let me housesit.)

(photo: Lady Cheeky)