The Broad's Side

I have no idea why this continues to be a debate. Of course it matters. It’s absolutely ridiculous for anyone to say that it doesn’t. The good news for you guys is that the majority of you have absolutely nothing to worry about. This is one of the few instances in life where average is a really good thing. C’mon, let’s be honest here…you never hear someone say, “no thanks, I don’t really need the hi-def. I like the mediocre TV viewing option much better”. Nobody prefers reg-def, my friends. The clear exception is on Planet Penis, where the majority of women will absolutely love your normal-sized erection. Some people will get all bent out of shape and insist that it’s not the size that matters, but what you do with it. True to a point… not every ordinary sized penis is attached to a man who knows what to do with it. End of argument as far as I’m concerned. If it’s two inches, it’s now downgraded to a finger. Fingers don’t do much for the pleasure factor upon insertion.

There are a few women who might actually prefer the gargantuan unit, but I’m willing to bet that it’s because they’re trifling whores. They’ve probably been around the block so many times; they might as well start delivering the newspaper. I for one have no interest in being startled when something the size of an Aqua-net hairspray canister is unleashed from someone’s pants. I didn’t particularly like the feeling of losing my virginity, and I certainly have zero interest in any form of reenactment. The concept of oral sex is now completely out of the equation as well. Who needs that monstrous thing banging against their brainstem? Not me!

I can confidently say that no woman prefers the mini manhood. Unfortunately, since women were engineered with the absence of ball sacks… none of us will tell you to your face. I’ll be honest; I once dated a guy whose junk was the size of my thumb with two grapes dangling from it. I actually continued dating him even though his personality sucked because I didn’t want him to think I was dumping him because of his microscopic dick. Don’t buy into any of these idiotic concepts like: ‘it’s not the size; it’s how many times you make it rise’. Bullshit! This little cock jingle was no doubt created by somebody hung like a tic-tac. Why the hell would I be interested in having sex with someone who makes me feel like they’re banging a 50 gallon trash can? If I can’t feel it hitting any type of vaginal wall… no thank you! My advice would be to invest in a really good oral sex book to save face. This could at least buy you some time before the broad finds someone with standard issue genitals.

I certainly understand that women can be emotional creatures and fall in love with someone regardless of the sexual connection. Just don’t confuse this with size being irrelevant. You fell in love DESPITE the size. It was not a contributing factor, even though you might be secretly wishing there was some sort of penis exchange program available at the local Target.

People tend to get really uncomfortable and embarrassed when it comes to the whole sex toy topic of conversation. I can see why…It’s not like this is subject matter for the checkout lane at the local Target. With that being said, I don’t feel that it’s THAT big of a deal. I saw my first vibrator when I was five or six years old rummaging through my mom’s nightstand. My parents had momentarily forgotten that I was alive because the new baby was soaking up all of their attention. They’d soon be sorry that they lost track of me. I found it and decided that it was the perfect rocket ship for Malibu Barbie. As I made my grand entrance at the ‘Welcome Baby’ dinner party with my new astronaut Barbie, I was perplexed by my mother’s reaction. She was crying and carrying on like nothing I’d ever seen before. Jesus, I had Barbie working for NASA… not swinging on some pole at the ‘Crazy Horse’. How was she not beaming about her amazingly imaginative child? Shit, I had even painted USA on the side in red nail polish. How was I anything less than a genius? All I know is that my grandparents seemed horrified, but some of the friends and neighbors were laughing their asses off. Thirty years later, I stand by the fact that I saved that dreary party. My mom never spoke of it again, but ten years later I stumbled upon another one. This time, I was a smart-assed teenager and I called her out on it. Her classic response was that it was a muscle massager, and she actually turned it on and put it on the back of her neck to demonstrate. I was so satisfied by her obvious discomfort, that I let her slide. Every time she had a complaint about her neck, back or anything else you can imagine for the next ten years, I’d tell her to go ‘vibrate it away’.

After I got divorced, there was an incident where my brand new piece of shit bed frame from Value City had broken. There was a rotted piece of wood in the frame that caused it to essentially fall apart. I was really busy at work and couldn’t commit to the four hour window for repairs. My friend was a school teacher and was off for the summer, so she graciously offered to sit at my house and wait for the repair man. When he arrived, she exchanged pleasantries and led him back to my bedroom to check out the frame. I had inadvertently left my ‘silver bullet’ vibrator on top of my dresser next to the bed, and she noticed as soon as she walked in the door. She made several pathetic attempts to divert the repairman’s attention and conceal the shiny sex toy. As she found herself standing there next to the broken bed with a vibrator in plain sight, she just blurted out ‘I don’t live here!”

After this incident, my friend couldn’t help but think about the fact that I might be on to something with the whole sex toy thing. At 37, she had never owned one and was ready to take the leap. Unfortunately, she didn’t ask for a professional consultation before she did her online shopping at www.shoperotic.com. It took her about a dozen Miller Lights to muster up the courage to place the internet order. Several days later the package arrived in nondescript paper bag porno wrap. I convinced her to show me her selections. She had opted for something called the ‘clit flicker’, a plastic 12 inch penis- shaped vibrator with a suction cup on the bottom and one other random item. There was also a package of anal beads that didn’t appear anywhere on the receipt. I immediately deemed it all crap and demanded to know what the return policy was. It turns out, that all that was required was a letter of explanation e-mailed to their customer service department. I offered to draft the letter myself and assist her in the re-ordering process. My letter went a little something like this…

Dear Erotic Peeps,
“Thank you so much for the speedy processing of my erotic sex toy order. In my state of inebriation, I inadvertently ordered something called the ‘clit flicker.’ After thoughtful consideration and some time to sober up, it turns out that I’m fully capable of flicking my own clit, so I won’t be needing it. As far as the suction cup vibrator, it seems as though that would only work on surfaces such as windows, and I’m not sure the neighbors or people in passing cars on the morning commute would appreciate that. If I ever invest in a glass top coffee table, I might reconsider, but for now it just isn’t practical. It was very thoughtful of you to include the complimentary anal beads, but I just wouldn’t feel right keeping those. Thanks again for providing the superior level of customer service one would only expect from the pornography industry.”

Men should definitely embrace the sex toy movement as well. It can only benefit them. I’m not talking about blow up dolls with the surprised look on their faces or those ‘pocket pussy’ things you plug into the wall. There’s a fine line between healthy sexuality and David Carradine. Nobody’s asking you to learn how to tie a slip knot. Just relax, and don’t assume that this is a measure of your inadequacy. You’re not competing with the vibrator. There will be no duel at sunset. As for me, I’ve had too many embarrassing experiences to count, but at least a few have come courtesy of a sex toy… and it’s NEVER in sexual situations. Let’s see, how do you think airport security responds to having one in your purse? I forgot it was there. It didn’t help matters that it happened a few short months after 9/11. I’m probably still on the dildo terror ‘watch list.’ In my defense, I was only trying to spare myself the embarrassment of the movers finding it AGAIN! No matter where I stash it, it inevitably surfaces during a move. I’ve also brought it to work. Thank god I got the security guard that really sucks at bag checks. That makes me feel really secure at the office. I think it was actually vibrating at the time. I was debating trying to pass it off as my cell phone…pull it out and say hello into it. I probably could have made it past this guy with the foot long, suction cup variety.