My Spanish Dildo

By Tonia

“It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on earth has ever produced the expression, ‘As pretty as an airport.’” - Douglas Adams

I recently went to Spain and Morocco with my Boy Toy  (OK, he’s only 5 months younger than me, but we like to call him that). We had a great time sight-seeing while gluttonizing on tapas, paella, Iberian ham, grilled sardines and gazpacho - and drinking more Sangria than our combined weights. 

There were, of course, a few hick-ups along the way. International travel is never without them. For example, there were unmanned highway toll booths every friggin’ 10 miles with more slits, buttons and levers than an Apollo control panel.  Two advanced-degreed brains working together couldn’t figure them out.  Other drivers had to stop and get out of their cars to assist us. 

And the ferry that I was SURE only took 30 minutes to get to Tangier took 90 minutes – mostly because we were off-course from our intended destination. We ended up at a Moroccan industrial port that looked like a thriller movie scene where creepy things happen. Boy Toy casually remarked we would probably end up kidnapped, stripped naked, chained and beaten (and not in a good way) on a cold cement floor in a Turkish prison. I reminded him we were in MOROCCO – not Turkey. And, fortunately, after one shuttle, one hike to the highway and 2 taxi rides, we made it to our hotel with our clothes on and no bruises or chains (we saved that for later).

But we really did have a wonderful time. One of our favorite destinations was the Love Stop Sex Shop – not really listed in Rick Steve’s travel guide, but definitely worth visiting. Unlike the seedy, dark places I.…ahem….have accidentally fallen upon, this place was well-lit, well-staffed and tastefully decorated. Ya gotta' love an elegant, sophisticated store in debauchery – kinda’ like an Apple Store of sex shops - a Sex Fifth Avenue. Of course, I wanted a souvenir! Tired of using my electric toothbrush as a vibrator, I decided something new and exotic was in order. And I discovered The Delight. Not only did it vibrate, it SUCKED.  I couldn’t pay for my shiny new Spanish dildo fast enough. After all, it certainly doesn’t suck to get sucked.

But all good things must come to an end and the time to fly home arrived. Looking forward to a good groping (pat down) from a handsome Spanish airport security guard, I instead found my carry-on bag getting all of the attention. After its ride through x-ray, the guard angrily pulled me and my bag aside and dug through its contents like a Gestapo on a 1944 train. He threw out some argon oil and kept excavating until he discovered….you guessed it….The Delight. Waving it high in the air like a sword in battle and shrieking Spanish accusations at me, it seemed he thought it was some kind of taser…..or weapon of mass destruction.

To avoid getting arrested and going to that Turkish prison Boy Toy warned me about I needed to explain myself. I didn’t know how to say “dildo” in Spanish and I was pretty sure it wasn’t in mini Spanish-English dictionary. Under other circumstances, I would have used charades and gestures to communicate, but I was afraid this kind of charade/gesture might be interpreted as a feminist-foreign-fuck you. I thought, “I’m fucked. And, worse yet, this thing is never gonna’ fuck me.”

While all this was going on in my head, a female security guard approached Dickomero (I’m pretty sure that’s Spanish for “male security guy”) and muttered something to him out of the side of her mouth and, though I can only imagine what she said, she had a knowing look on her face and a little twinkle in her eye. He slowly lowered The Delight and gently put it back in my bag. I think he may have even zipped it for me. And, like that, we were on our way back home – The Delight, the Boy Toy and me. But, somewhere in Spain that night, I bet there was a wife getting a LOT of questions…..

If you can't get to Spain this year, at least enjoy some Sangria with your girlfriends. It’s a fabulous beverage for your next girlfriends’ get-together. Maybe after a few glasses you'll want to practice flamengo! Here’s the recipe we love. Cheers!!

INGREDIENTS:

1 750 ml of red wine

1 lemon, sliced

2 oranges, sliced

1 apple, sliced

1 squirt Stevia

1/4 cup brandy

1/4 cup lemon cello

2 cups ginger ale, club soda or sparkling water

DIRECTIONS:

Pour the wine into a pitcher and toss in the fruit wedges (leaving out seeds if possible) along with the Stevia, brandy and lemon cello. Stir and chill overnight; add ginger ale, club soda or sparkling water just before serving. Poor over ice into glasses. Don't worry if some of the fruit drops into the glasses. 

My Mammogram Call Back

by Tonia

"Scientists now believe that the primary biological function of breasts is to make males stupid." - Dave Barry

I got a call back after my mammogram this year. That’s like an encore, right? Because the girls did so well? Not exactly. There had been a “change” in my right breast since my last mammogram and an ultrasound was needed in order to rule out…you know….

All kinds of things started to run through my mind. My mammogram tech and I had previously negotiated a safe word: could I use the same one with the ultrasound tech, would I have to create a new one or would I even need one at all? After all, rubbing my tit with some kind of object just seemed like kinky foreplay. Would there be handcuffs or ties on the table, too? Would I have to remove my glitter pasties? I just had so many questions!

I was supposed to make an appointment. But first I had to check my calendar to make sure there weren’t any big events coming up I wanted to be in a good mood for. Geez! I didn’t want bad news about my ta-tas to ruin a good time!  So I checked my calendar and made the GD appointment. 

As I was laying on the table flashing the ceiling, I started making promises to the Universe. “If this ultrasound is OK, I promise I’ll quit fantasizing about the lawn boy. I’ll quit texting and driving. I’ll stop posting inappropriate things on Facebook.” I’m not sure which promise worked but it turned out that the “change” was only a cyst – according to the dictionary, “a membranous sac or cavity of abnormal character containing fluid.”

“Abnormal character,” huh? Bahahahaha!

Extra “fluid”? Woo hoo! Fill me up! I just need a cyst on the other side now so I can save myself some money on implants!

Soooooo for your next girlfriends’ get together (great for breast cancer awareness month or if a girlfriend is going thru breast cancer treatment), play FREEING THE TA-TAS.

Directions: divide your guests into two (2) teams. Have one member from each team put on the exact number of bras as she has teammates – on the OUTSIDE of her clothing (for example, if there are 3 teammates besides her, she will put on 3 bras). Have the Bra Wearers stand about 20 feet away from their lined up teammates. When someone shouts “GO!” one of the teammates from each team runs to her team’s Bra Wearer, unhooks one of the bras with only ONE hand, takes it off and outs it on herself (using 2 hands this time) and runs back to her other teammates. The next woman in line then runs to the Bra Wearer and does the same thing. Continue until the one of the original Bra Wearers no longer has any bras on and the last team member has returned to her teammates. First team to accomplish this wins!

Enjoy the Trip Down South

by Tonia

Always the scientist, I ran across some research recently that suggests cunnilingus may be an evolutionary adaptation used by men to prevent infidelity. Meditate on that for a moment…..

Does that mean a va-jay-jay is like food - if you lick it, no one else wants to eat it?

Or maybe it’s as simple as the fact that his head cock-blocks the entrance.

Or maybe it’s cuz if you really know how to pleasure me, I don’t want to go anywhere else!

Hmmmm…….

So I’ve been pondering cunnilingus. And I want to give some lip service to this important genitalese. Yes, I’ll be your cunning linguist.

  

While some partners go south simply to ingratiate themselves (like helping move furniture or programming the DVR), anyone who’s going to earn a diving certificate from me needs to show some enthusiasm for the pussy! This shouldn’t be a perfunctory task, boys. It should be a celebration! You’re getting up close and personal to the Area 51 of my body! And it’s awesome!

In fact, it’s so awesome that Taoism considers cunnilingus a revered and spiritual practice. (Is it too late for me to convert?) It believes that partaking of women’s juices from the “peak of the purple mushroom” (the mons veneris) is great medicine, contributing to longevity. Well, that certainly explains “kneeling at the altar.” Line up, Lovers! I’m going to help you live a long life!

And, for the record, if you (or your lover) think pussies are dirty, a freshly washed vulva is way cleaner than the human mouth! So PLEASE no more vulgar cunnilingus expressions. You can “lick the slit” or “growl at the badger” or “yodel in the canyon of love” but no more tuna references.

And, to add to your cunnilingus experience, you might want to consider getting your partner the Snorkel O Vibrating Muff Dive Gear for the holidays. It allows her/him to go down and stay down! Woo hoo! Click HERE to order (no, I haven’t bought stock in the company but that may not be a bad idea!). You’re welcome!

Is Your Betty Ready?

by Tonia

“My favorite snack is vagina. The only thing I hate is unwrapping all that saran wrap.” - Jarod Kintz

I recently ran across an ad for hair color –hair color for down there. Yep. Even I was surprised – I mean, who has hair on their Eager-Beavers any more? Not me! Too much hair just makes my camel toe look fat.

I guess the idea originated when someone saw hair dressers sending customers home with small bits of dye used to color their hair to use at home on the ol’ pubes - a batch to match the snatch. Carpet to match the drapes. Shoes to match the purse. Whatever.

The product is on the Betty Beauty website. It says, “get your betty ready.” Who calls their cooch “betty”? And get it ready for what? A perm? A blow dry? A pony tail?

But I was impressed with the all the available colors. Besides the typical hair colors, they also have FUN (hot pink), SEXY (lilac), LOVE (ruby red) and BRIDAL (aqua blue). Maybe I should let the lady garden grow wild so that I can use my bush as a mood ring. You know, change the color so the boyfriend only has to raise my skirt to see what mood I’m in:

BROWN – Feeling like shit. Touch me and die.

BLUE – Feeling kinda’ down, but convince me……
BLOND – Feeling like some fun.

LILAC – I’m open to anything. And I DO mean anything.

RUBY RED – Fuck me NOW!

Hmmmmmm. What are your thoughts? Go ahead and tell us in the comments below.

And, for your next girlfriends’ vagina celebration, add these two games to your party activities after looking at the ideas on our previous blogs HERE and HERE. 

--- Create cards with all the pictures of the different hair cut styles. Pass them out to everyone and ask them to write a girlfriend’s name on the style that best matches her. Post them or go around the room and explain your choices. Or do the same with the Betty Beauty colors.

--- Create a poster or comment box for everyone to complete the following sentence, “If my vagina could talk, it would say ________________.”

It's Raining Dildos

by Tonia

Did you hear the one about dildos hanging flaccidly from power lines?

They were getting a charge.

Ahahahaha!

Made that one up myself.

But it’s really been happening! In Portland, Oregon, there have been dozens of paired (how romantic!) dildos thrown over power lines. And I’m not dicking around with you either. It’s true. Geez. I’m never in the right place at the right time. While I’ve seen lots of penises in my time, I’ve never seen any hanging from wires. There were a few dicks I wanted to hang by a wire but I never got the chance.

I’ve been thinking long and hard about the situation in Portland. I’ve actually had some penetrating thoughts about it. You know - theories - about it.

Could it be that…..

…..this is a new rite of passage symbol for losing your virginity?

…..a kinky meteorologist is trying out some new kind of weathervanes?

…..a giant, benevolent dildo deity rained tiny offspring for the joy of man/womankind?

.....this is a grown-up version of Toy Story with adult toys coming alive at night?

…..someone with a fabulous collection of dildos has given them up for…..for…..what on earth would you give them up for???

While it’s still unclear what the meaning of the flying phalluses is, I, for one, think their appearance calls for a celebration! Invite your girlfriends over for a “Make Love; Not War” party. Serve phallic shaped foods such as asparagus, carrots, hot dogs, bananas, etc and/or vagina shaped foods such as oysters, tacos, dried pears, won tons, strawberries cut in half, etc OR just serve foods that are known to be aphrodisiacs such as chocolate, oysters, pomegranates, red wine, etc. Have vibrator races and find your Joie de Vivre!