Review of Lovense Ferri featuring special guest review of 3 Tenga Products

It’s time.  I don’t know how to begin, where, why, etc.  I just know it’s time.  I’ve had at least a dozen shower thoughts over the last few months on how this post would begin, reminding me of rehearsing a script before a therapy session, whether that’s me as the therapist or me as the client.  Yup.  I’ve been a part-time therapist for LGBTQ+ clients at CogniCare over the last 6 months.  Yup.  The practice I’d refer patients to back when I worked at PROUD.  “When I worked at PROUD.”  Wow, that feels really different typing out versus just briefly glossing over it in conversation.  I left my PROUD family to begin a new chapter of my life as a full-time Patient Navigator for Gender Affirming Services at Planned Parenthood Metropolitan NJ.  A position I had ached for so badly while at PROUD, wanting to work by Danielle’s side and be a part of all the change and love she spread throughout the community.  A position I now have because of my fellow board member from Masakhane and brilliant sex educator at PPMNJ, Bethany.  

It’s happening again.  Full-time navigation, part-time therapy, coalition meetings, sex toy workshops, new romances, meaningful tattoos.  It’s all overlapping.  And I can keep putting off this post because I am at the tip of the “overlap iceberg” in my own self-discoveries or I can just, you know, fucking write and see what happens.  Which will, as it usually does when I get momentum going, get super long-winded and then suddenly stop because I’m in the process of doing the very overlapping things I am trying to capture on the keyboard.  I’ve been playing a lot of keyboard, speaking of which.  Something about it infuriates me like a good challenge, from the intention tremors in my hands to what feels like an increasingly foggy memory…the daily mini crossword on the toilet isn’t really stimulating my synapses anymore.  I guess terrible videogame covers are it right now.  

My attention span has been shot, too, which I need to give myself a little more grace with.  I’m finally doing all the things I said I wanted to do in two careers, writing letters of support, helping with grants, training affiliate-wide staff, attending nationwide meetings, compiling resources, connecting with trans providers in New Jersey and across the country, meeting all new patients in my OWN FUCKING OFFICE, WAIT WHAT?!  No seriously, it was a week in and I already had an office with a standing desk that I’m turning into an art gallery for various queer and trans artists, including little labels under each piece to promote their work.  It’s so reciprocal, but reciprocal doesn’t quite describe the energy in my life right now…it feels beyond transaction, no quid pro quo, no sense of competing for seats at the table.  That whole spiel people give about how everyone has their own skills and can shine because of their unique lived experiences?  It exists.  It exists here.  At my job.  In my life.  I feel like throwing up, my cheeks are hot, and I feel like I’m going to cry.  

Every damn day I have to wrap my brain around something new and amazing I thought I’d never experience, something I thought I never deserved.  But here I am, experiencing it and deserving it.  For as inundated as I was with the word over the last three years of my life, and for how bittersweet that path was, I feel so wholesomely and compassionately “proud” of myself.  No wait…yup.  I AM going to cry.  The world has held me lately.  It’s simultaneously terrifying and cruel and nourishing and warm.  The cognitive dissonance of the thrill in spreading my Mothra wings to soar and remembering that everything is still on fire is dizzying.  And it’s like I said to my therapist, my supervisor, my loving friends, partners, colleagues, former colleagues, and family.  I’m thriving in my existence right now, and I don’t think that needs to be indulgent in a way that’s bound to values or binaristic morality.  I think that growing into my queer joy has transformative potential too.  I know it does, let me stop with that iffy “thinking” crap.  I know it does.  

Mothra Larvae toy in Miyazaki Cat Bus style
Seriously though, a Motrha/Miyazaki mashup was too good not to include somewhere in this post.

People reach out to me, saying they’re living through me right now, the vicarious pleasure they’re feeling from seeing me at peace and starting each new day with the same jaw-dropped awe as though I’m unboxing a new vibrator.  I feel reborn.  Free, self-directed, and goddamnit I feel sexy as hell lately.  Like, so sexy.  SO confident.  I just put my chin in my hands for a moment to feel the heat of my cheeks and bask in the fact that I made my own damn self blush.  

Avery selfie
Click the pic for bonus pit hair action!

One change I already felt within myself over the past few years is how I’ve deepened my commitments to sustaining relationships with people and forging new ones.  I used to have this tired line I’d give people when we parted ways about how, realistically, I was unlikely to keep in touch because I was “terrible” at doing it.  That’s not me anymore.  I don’t know if it ever was.  Maybe I was just scared.  But I’ve kept in touch with people from all parts of my life lately, even people I had hurt over 15 years ago and thought would never want to speak with me again.  I’ve said it before in previous posts: people CAN change.  And they can’t.  I’m pretty sure I used those exact words.  Either way, Aries season is about to rain fire and I’m charging full speed ahead while hooking my horns around everyone close to me.  Yes you, you’re coming too, if you want.  

Tweet about LiveJournal friends

And I’ve also left some people behind.  And that’s okay too.  Not everyone wants to come for the ride.  Not everyone gets to.  AND I’m dating someone new, with that being said.  Someone who has given me an entirely new appreciation for radical vulnerability, for cracking open my mind, for showing me that being a dad who loves with their whole heart is celestially beautiful beyond anything I could ever imagine.  That whole vicarious joy I talked about before?  I have the cheesiest smile on my face right now just thinking about how much he adores his babies.  

It makes me feel so appreciative of my own father, having a person like that in my life who loves people unconditionally, weirdness, warts, and all.  You’d think I wouldn’t mash up family and sex toys.  But you’d be wrong.  And if you knew me, like really knew me down to the pith, you’d know why my brain skipped no beats transitioning from talking about good parenting to talking about sex toys.  Vibrators to stimulate tomato pollination.  Explaining a Game of Thrones reference regarding a dildo.  I’m weird, and the apple never fell far from the tree.  Circles of sexuality, all that.  It’s my throughline, my root.  So let’s talk.

Gif of dropping the magnetic disc near the Ferri and it snapping to the toy immediately
Fucking magnets, how do they work?!

I’ve acquired quite the collection of new toys over the last year and yet somehow I keep finding myself going back to all the oldies and reassigning new meanings to them.  It’s not surprising, as this has been something I do whenever I’m embarking on a new life chapter and reinventing my relationship with things, rituals, ideas I’ve once associated with people or circumstances I wish to move past.  After my breakup with Mike, it was really difficult getting back into toys again until I was able to reclaim them.  It’s similar to a good song, meal, or movie I feel deeply connected to and need to remind myself that they represent facets of me, a fragmented kaleidoscope of self-reflection that can be pointed in any which way and still retain a function and significance intrinsic to my own unique being.  

My Lovense Ferri is one example, which I initially purchased to be used in public situations like arcade nights at 8 On the Break or other nerdy social activities.  I loved the technology of the Ferri, the fact I could have more than one person logged in at a time to take control of it, a sense of silliness and camaraderie when friends would plug in the rhythm of the Terminator theme song while I’d be playing the pinball game (and inevitably losing due to the distraction and/or my lack of skill).  I loved using it on my housemate, that deviousness of knowing I could watch her from across a room and see her squirm with an eyeroll or sassy smile on her face.  But the Ferri, while about pleasure and fun, was never really intended for orgasms.  I liked the psychological torture of it, the connections and memories it made, but it was a novelty thing.  And then a new partner entered my life this winter, one who lives all the way out in Washington state.  The Ferri wasn’t about novelty anymore.  Psychological torture sure, but unadulterated lust this time.  

A fiery Leo who matches my erotic and reckless Aries energy, dancing circles around my sexual rhythm, a partner who knows at any moment what my breath rate means or even the sexual subtext of a seemingly innocent “How are you?”  When I told Kenny about the Ferri, it was game over, man.  I knew that if nothing else, the way he holds my mind like he would hold my body is enough to make me feel so linked into him that I was undoubtedly going to orgasm from this thing.  And the mind is a powerful thing.  Then again, so are the Ferri vibrations.  So lo and behold, I have had several orgasms at the touch of Kenny’s fingertips using this device.  

Witnessing him learn so eagerly how to manipulate its modes, coming up with new patterns, giggling with glee when I forget it’s clipped to my underwear and he suddenly gives me a gasp-inducing jolt…it’s so affirming and sexy.  I’ll never forget the vision of him on camera, his phone just within eyeshot with the app open, watching his hand reach to change the speed and me whimpering in anticipation only for him to jerk his hand away without touching a thing.  Visual, audio, and tactile edging at its absolute fucking finest.  

Ferri laying on its side

Specs-wise, the Ferri is about the size and almost the width of my thumb, with a slight taper and curve upwards as it progresses away from the ridged tip.  Like I always say with toys, there’s no one single way to use this thing, just keep it out of your butt since there’s no flared base.  Flip it any which way you want.  Use the app or don’t, since you can control the vibrations by just pushing the button.  Even with bottom growth, it still fits neatly between my outer labia and stays put, the shape of it tucking into me but not so bulky that I can’t sit with it.  It’s comfortable whether turned on or off (pun intended), and the vibrations are so strong that they reverberate consistently throughout the device.  

The magnet adheres with so much force I either need to get my thumbnail underneath the black disc to pry it off or just slide it using the texture of the printed “Lovense” on its silky smooth silicone to push it away from the toy.  It comes with a replacement magnet, but I anticipate this isn’t because the magnetism is going to weaken, rather, if you drop it anywhere near something remotely magnetic, like behind a radiator or down a vent, that thing is gone and stuck to whatever it touches.  The silicone has zero drag and is easy to clean, plus it’s waterproof with a magnetic charger which plugs into any USB port.  It holds a charge really well; Kenny can edge me for over an hour and it showed no signs of dying at all.  And finally, maybe most importantly for some people, it is oh so quiet.  But that could also be my deliciously thick thighs insulating the noise, and if you’re sitting on something hard like a plastic stool, it’s probably going to transmit sound down both your and the stool’s legs.  

Back of the Ferri pointing upwards to show ridges

I’ve talked to so many people who use or want to use Lovense products.  I was in the middle of teaching a toy workshop last month when an attendee talked about their partner’s experience with the Max 2.  And as always when I learn and share experiences about toys, listening to them review it and show how its mechanisms worked was a glittering moment of bliss for me, as it’s definitely something Kenny and I want to try in the future.  

One of Kenny’s many green flags (like, SO many, holy heck), is how authentically sex positive he is.  One of our first conversations in Discord with our friends was focused on his love of the Tenga Flip Zero.  So naturally for Valentine’s Day I bought him a bunch of other Tenga products including the Spinner, the 3D, and two bottles of lube.  He commissioned a portrait of us from our best friend in “selfie mode” because we won’t be able to take one together until the summer.  I’m shaking my head smiling at our love languages as I write this.  It was easily the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me on a Valentine’s Day.  And I sent him fuck sleeves.

NEVERTHELESS: the Tengas have gotten a lot of use, to which Kenny agreed to write a guest spot in this blog post and I’m not editing a single thing in it… take it away, lover!


I’ve been tasked with writing a blurb about my sex toys, and I’m just excited I can be a part of this blog!  Me?! Hell yeah!  I have been given a lot of power being told “I’m not changing anything you write.”  So now I have a huge urge to just write stupid stuff and make Avery roll their eyes, but I’ll contain myself. I had a few prompts I tried answering like bullet points, but I think it’d be best if I just talked about them all since my thoughts started to all blend together anyways.  

     I started using toys shortly after I had a break up and decided it was time to start the sexual healing process, and explore my interests because I do what I want and I wanted to “treat yo’self”.  I made my own for a while which was cool and all but it got old, so I looked up penis sleeves and eventually decided to go to a local sex shop to see some in person.  I ended up walking out with 3 Svakom Hedys, the blue, pink, and white egg.  

Svakom Hedy trio

These were great for jumping into the sex toy world.  They were affordable and safe to try.  A summary and experience of the 3 would be

Blue – from what I can understand blue is supposed to feel like a mouth and it wasn’t very good for me, didn’t offer much in feeling besides an equal pressure all around.  What’s a mouth texture without suction????

White – I didn’t like this one much at first, but eventually I started to use a light pressure on it and I figured how to make it shine.   The tiny ridges really make for fun changes during sessions.

Pink – it has like…5 main ridges, they’re solid and pretty firm which was nice for me.  The best way I can describe it is that it was like entering someone 5 times and then exiting 5 times in a row which I’m all for. 

   With these they’re all easy to clean.  Just wash immediately use a mild soap or toy cleaner and pat dry with a clean towel or paper towel.  They’re supposed to be single use, but I used mine until they started to show signs of wear.  I got rid of the blue one pretty quick, but the pink and white I kept for a couple months, rotated uses.  I’m not a daily ‘bater so YMMV.

  Eventually I was ready to upgrade to something more serious.  I got the Tenga Flip 0 for black friday I think, and for V-day i got a wonderful gift of a Tenga spinner and a Tenga 3D polygon. So on to those

Tenga Flip Zero

Flip 0 – fanciest one I’ve tried and probably my favorite.  It opens up fully so it can clean easy and has easy prep for use.  It has….3 zones?  First is a soft ball with texture the I feel is supposed to simulate a tongue, and on the other side has more intense ridging that kind of…flicks?  That’s the best was I can describe it.  I don’t know maybe you can see in the picture but it’s cool you can rotate it around for different intensities and feels how you want it.  The 2nd zone is the same knobs all around nothing really more to say about it.  3rd zone is a weird hooded ball that is fun to get into but I don’t think you can enter the hood but it’s fun to get up in there.   My favorite part is you can push out all the air and make a vacuum in it for suction.  You can control the strength of it and overall it’s an experience when you get used to all you can do with it.   It’s great for intense heavy sessions and also more gentle love making times. 

Tenga Spinner Shell

Tenga spinner Shell- this one was a treat.  It’s intense, knobby, tight, and suctiony. 

The plastic spring in it sure twists it.   It has so much texture and all the air gets pushed out as you enter, I think it has more of a vacuum that the Flip, and harder to get off than the Flip but in a good way.

3D polygon – I didn’t like this one at first.  I couldn’t feel the texture, the firmness was different, material felt different, it just wasn’t what I was used to.  Gave it a couple more tries and now I like it a good amount, and I can feel the grooves.  It isn’t intense so I like to use it when the mood matches that.  Nothing fancy about it, no bells or whistles, but in the end, I find it something I’ll use in my rotation often enough.

Tenga 3D Polygon

     I talked about it briefly but the Flip is the easiest to clean IMO, while the hedys and 3D are equal difficulty (just turn them inside-out), with the spinner being the hardest just for the fact you can’t to my knowledge turn it inside-out.  A bit of warning with the 3D is that it can launch whatever is inside it when you invert it so be careful of cannoning your lube, cum combo all over your backsplash.  For cleaning though I just use dish soap, any gentle soap would work too, or just by toy cleaner since I’m sure it’s really the best for them.  All the fancy toys each came with their own drying stands but I just leave it in my dish rack…. where babysitters and ex’s can accidentally see it and makes for funny stories to friends.  Eventually I put them somewhere safe once they’re fully dry.

     I missed a few prompts that I think would be good to go over, one is lubing.  They’re all easy-peasy to get ready, just put some lube down the hold and a little bit on the entrance and you’re good to go.  The hard part is figuring out how much is enough.  Too much and you’re leaking everywhere and making a mess, too little and you can feel friction heat and that’ll cause your toy to degrade faster.  After some questioning I recommend using just water based lubricants, I have a couple different viscosities from some random brand on amazon to “slippery stuff” and one with menthol in it.  I complain about this often but I do wish Tenga would rename their brand lube.  Hole Lotion is a cursed name.

     Another prompt that felt oddly specific to me was a bout Lovense products.  I’ve talked with Avery about their app-controlled toys several times and for ones I’d try…to be honest I’d try them all probably, but the only one I can see myself putting money towards is the Max 2.  I think the ability for one’s partner to control it is what sounds the most exciting.  I don’t feel there’s many choices for sleeves that are able to be controlled by someone else, and with how online and long-distance dating isn’t uncommon at all anymore especially after Covid, I feel that this market should get some more effort in it.

     For my final thoughts/summary if you’re interested in masturbation sleeves at all, just go try one!  The “Disposables” are like $6-$9 and last longer than they recommend for the most part.  Some people do just wear them out in a session and I’m intimidated by that.  I’m going to go with a personal thought here and use gendered terms since I only know experience as a CisHet.  I always felt there was a stigma for guys owning fleshlights and other sex toys, as if it’s like… a degenerate thing to do, have, or use.  I think it came from how jokes were delivered when it was something that was talked about.  In the end I realized that is silly, and I deserve quality, quality time to myself and there is nothing wrong with using an aid for it.  If you are self-conscious or have doubts, I want to encourage you to do what I’ve been doing that past year and “let go for dear life” and treat yo’self.  You deserve it! You are amazing!  Take care of them and they’ll take care of you.  Also I love you Avery, and I can’t wait to spend time with you later! <3


Thanks babe! Okay, so piggybacking off of Kenny’s thoughts on Lovense sleeves, there are two which initially piqued our interest: the Max 2 and Calor.  Some of Lovense’s products even pair up, meaning they provide haptic feedback (just a fancy term for vibrating responses to touch, but I’ll roll with it) when people are using each of their toys at the same time.  I was talking about this with a friend of mine who wants to try this with her boyfriend when we both paused to consider how, especially during the isolation of the pandemic and so many other barriers, Lovense’s products are literal lifesavers.  

Growing up in an era where cybersex in AOL chat rooms and 900 hotlines were the closest thing to sexual interaction via tech, the fact that someone can use their kegels and somewhere across the world another person feels their sleeve contract is incomprehensibly wonderful.  It says loads for sex work, disability, long-distance relationships, kink, and so much more.  Kenny and I are vacationing to California in August to meet for the first time in person, and I am absolutely bringing the Ferri.  There are just too many possibilities not to bring it.  And even though I’d probably never do it, we could be in two entirely separate airplane bathrooms mid-air and the Ferri would still work with Wi-fi.  That is just beyond.  Life right now is just beyond.  

Gif of Screencapped Instagram Story

So I guess I’ll close this whopper of a post, if you’ve even gotten this far, by reminding you that Aries season (linking to a Google search result because I typed in “Aries,” “Mothra,” and “meme” and my new tattoo comes up, what is life even) is rapidly approaching.  As is my birthday, March 31st, the same day as the International Transgender Day of Visibility.  My birthdays these past few years, whether because of the pandemic or just me getting crotchety in my older age, are not of much importance anymore.  The International Transgender Day of Visibility is.  So if you want, consider donating some money to a transgender organization.  Buy your trans buddies a burger.  Put your pronouns in your email signature.  Whatever.  But do something.  Fire can sustain and destroy, and while I love everything Aries-related, I also can’t ignore the amount of damage being done to other trans folx around me.  Especially the kiddos.  Visibility is vulnerability, and trans youth are more vulnerable than ever these days.  We don’t have to be parents to care about theybies, so let’s take care of them in any way we can.  Deal?  Deal.

From Pink Bunny to Rainbow Buttplug: Sex Toys, LGBTQ+ Identity, and Queer Capitalism

(Links to the presentation featured in bold font below!)

So I’m sitting here in my newly air-conditioned bedroom looking out on the beautiful day, waiting for my Telehealth therapy session and following Teams Board Meeting for Masakhane, dirt between my toes from propping up freshly transplanted tomatoes after they endured last night’s storm. I tried hardening them as I grew them from seed, but I started with the mission that even if one tomato plant survived, I’d consider it a success. I’m sticking to that mentality regarding a lot of things right now.

The semester ended, weirdly of course. But it’s over. 3 professors suggested I apply for the doctorate program, which while flattering, I cannot afford financially or mentally. It’s time to dig into this career. I have the whole rest of my life to flirt with a PhD. Now is the time to focus on the abundance I already have.

So enough of updates. My back is my back. I finished out what ended up being a glob-awful LGBTQ+ Issues course with a highly problematic gay, white, cismale, older professor, and my classmates and I have forged a lovely trauma bond from the experience. Which happens all too often in my academic life, so I’m going to try to spring this collaboration up and out of the shitty pedagogy into some nurturing and sustainable connections.

The people have spoken!

For my MSW final project, I had the opportunity to re-present a redux of a workshop I botched at Widener’s CareersCon in 2016. I made a downloadable PowerPoint with notes, clickable links, and transcriptions, made a captioned YouTube presentation, and included a supplemental show-and-tell video to give a different experience to the content. Take your pick, there are options!

This presentation absolutely FLOPPED. Improvements have been made, I promise.

The board meeting with Masakhane starts in an hour and I just realized how cool it would be for us to host Sex Toy “Show-and-Tell” Zoom meetings: a space for us to show our faves, share what they mean, show how they function, do flame testing, ask questions give modular ideas, riff on the knowledge we have, etc. What do you think? Would you want something like that?

A Review, A Reflection, A Wish of Wellness

I outlined this blog post and honestly debated just leaving it as a messy outline the way I did in a previous post.  But I want to craft it a little.  I’ve been crafty lately.  DIY has always been a big part of my life, whether due to punk ethics, queer community, or disability survival.  When the pandemic hit, narratives exploded around these identities and more, and I knew I had to create a post.  It was just a matter of time and space.  Now and here we go. 

I write most of my posts when everything in life explicitly overlaps to the point where it feels like universes are collapsing into one another and everywhere I look is a sign to put my fingers on the keyboard.  Right now I am writing as the sun sets on my porch, reclined on my Liberator Chaise to ease my back still aching from the six epidurals I received three weeks ago.  I rushed these epidurals, paying out of pocket because my sciatic flare was so bad I could barely walk.  I knew COVID-19 was about to shut the world down, and I invested an entire paycheck knowing that most elective procedures were not going to be available soon.  What I put out of my head until my orthopedist firmly reminded me, is that the five extra shots given due to resistant scar tissue were five extra doses of immunosuppressing cortisone.  This is something I still continue to shove from my consciousness, as my concerns for loved ones have put my sense of self on the backburner.  My mother and father tested positive for COVID-19 over three weeks ago, and my mother has suffered greatly.  It was not until four days ago that her fever finally broke and she was able to breathe without coughing.  I’m not much for prayer, but I pretty much told everyone and anyone close to me with the hopes that we could all send a little bit of energy her way, and I think that might have done the trick.   

Epidurals and Bandaids on Avery's Back

I’m also working every day at PROUD now, answering the phones, helping patients figure out how to navigate telemedicine and listening to their worries and fears during this difficult time.  I’ve had horrible impostor syndrome as media latches on to the notion of “Frontline Heroes,” as I am not technically on a front line, nor do I feel like a hero.  I am here because I need to be.  I am here to support my community and I am here because I need the fucking money.  My coworker, a veteran, blew my mind when she said “How do you think vets feel when they get thanked for their service?  What if they’ve never been deployed?  What if they’ve never been in combat?”  Imposter syndrome, like comparison, is addictive.  I’ve been doing a lot of comparing lately, and in addition to the overlaps with compassion fatigue, it gets dark and suffocating a lot of the time. 

Thank you Doctors nurses and staff sign on someone's lawn
I pass this sign thanking hospital staff on my way home from work every day.

Everything is overlapping whether I like it or not.  The times when I was able to celebrate how interconnected my life is are now becoming very confusing, and I’m having difficulty pulling positivity from it.  I’m lying on the chaise, typing with bookcases in the background filled with literature on sexuality, disability, mental health, and theory.  The sun beats on my face and I smile with gratitude for the Vitamin D and Wellbutrin coursing through my veins, the bowl of medical marijuana awaiting ignition upon completion of this post.  Medical marijuana prescribed to me for back pain and PTSD.  As though those things were mutually exclusive.  As though any of this could ever be separated. 

Avery flippin the bird at work.
These wipes, known as “that good purple,” have been coveted by every part of the hospital. This is our last container.

But something clicked last night during the full moon.  I cleansed the pendulum given to me by my aunt and began a ritual of gratitude, hope, and awareness.  A ritual of existing in the present, moving and breathing with intentionality but also sensing that there is so much beyond my control.  I journaled, writing down thoughts and stopping at moments to realize that the thoughts were aligning with lyrics from Air’s Moon Safari.  I didn’t even register that the word “Moon” is in the album title.  I chose it for how it felt and what it has done for my life in terms of holding ritual, of making space.  I drank my tea in gulps of three, closing my circle with a tea reading that settled into an array of valerian resembling a jaw.  Stubbornness, tension, inability to let go, buckling down onto disintegration to the point of self-injury.  Caz suggested it could relate to my TMJ, which is equally true.  My SLAP tear has been unbearable lately as I chew my cheek with fluctuations of anxiety.  It figures my jaw connects the right shoulder I would normally use to masturbate. 

Avery's spell journal page on their back in the sun
A page from my ritual journal last night.

Which I do, sporadically, for reasons I choose not to name, reasons I choose not to align with this current discourse of masturbation as healing and therapeutic.  I know chemically this can be true, but I wonder where the dissonance is when people speak about trauma and isolation in challenging households, how disability needs more recognition now that we are all quarantined, and yet nobody is talking about how masturbation can trigger a whole world of trauma around those very things.  How baking bread and doing push-up challenges is not only an inaccessible coping mechanism but also potentially downright harmful.   

I push back against bloggers who contribute to the hype of “universally” liked toys or lubes.  I push back against a lot.  So I guess I’m consistent when I say that jerking off has been really problematic with regards to my dysphoria, dysmorphia, and living with my ex. 

Tomato seedlings in cups
Tomatoes and Tomatillos are still growing!

Spring is happening.  A friend mentioned a reimagining of seasonal depression as the flowers bloom and plants grow and yet we are adjusting to a closing in.  The circles of life and death are wobbly in flow; another friend keeps reminding people in his Instagram feed that this is all “temporary,” which stung during the days where I feared my mother was about to die.  My best friend from childhood left this earth voluntarily in 2012, leaving behind an association with magnolias.  I see these trees from my porch and do not wince; I remember Katie as a presence who has never left.  I know they were beginning to bloom into their own understandings of gender before they left.  I wince more at using their birth name, as I know they were considering using a different name but never got the chance.  I can’t fall into imagining what the world would be like for Katie right now.  I couldn’t let myself drown in the “what-if’s” during my mom’s illness.  I can’t speculate when the next time I’ll get to eat sushi is or if Mike will ever want to make love to me again. 

A photo taken beneath a giant blossoming magnolia tree

What I can do is put my belly into the sun (thank you Shayne), squeeze a giant prismatic unicorn (thank you Simon), and sift through these photos of the items I am about to review (thank you Kathleen). 

In terms of alignment and overlap, I am in the process of revamping a previous sex toy presentation for my LGBTQ+ Issues Social Work course due in a few weeks.  I aim to talk about sex toys and sexual orientation, gender identity, gender expression, and how they are richly indicative of the evolution of the field as a whole.  I am also crafting a presentation for PROUD about gender affirming products and the companies who provide them.  Which reminds me, I’ve just recently affiliated with NYTC, which was a collaboration long overdue. 

Avery Putting Their Belly in the Sun
Took this selfie for Shayne but it was too good not to share.

Every year I write a blog post about Pride in June, usually picking a toy as a vehicle for my thoughts.  I don’t even know what Pride is going to look like this year.  Everything is online now, condensed to any media consumable from the fingerprints of our phones, to mice, to remotes.  Pride has already exploded into media over the last years with rainbow capitalism, and now that it’s likely to be entirely digital, I cannot fathom the oversaturation we are about to experience as a community.  How Pride coverage informs accessibility will be fascinating and mercurial.  I figured this post might as well talk about Pride before that point of inundation. 

People are right when they say communities have been taking advantage of online formats long before the pandemic.  I think about lying on the beach in Asbury Park this summer as I tuned in to Lizxnn Cobalt Chrome’s Collaboration with Colleagues presentation for Ducky Doolittle’s Sex Ed Skillshare Series.  The webinars were free, they were formed by our unique specialties and intersections with the field of sexuality, they were transcribed and recorded, and they were absolutely fucking brilliant.  They were also sponsored by amazing companies like BlushSheVibe, Kink Academy, and Peepshow Toys.  This meant that each webinar featured a giveaway to those attending.  And since I attended damn near every session, I won a couple of awesome items from Blush.  One was a body-safe dilator kit with soft, rounded silicone for comfort, perfect for all types of bodies, even ones like mine which have experienced “vaginal atrophy” (blech I hate that term) after going on testosterone.  The straight and narrow flexibility of each dilator, plus the rounded tip means nothing pokey, nothing unnecessarily scraping against a G-spot, just a range of fit in four different sizes.   

Blush Wellness G Curve in a bed of yellow flowers
Blush Wellness G-Curve

My favorite win, however, was the Blush Wellness G-Curve.  Strong vibrations with plus and minus buttons to cycle through strength and modes, plus vibration modes that don’t make my junk feel like it’s being jolted by an alarm or forced to keep up with a cha-cha.  It’s made with silky smooth silicone, a light lavender color as per the branding of the Wellness line, and holds a charge really, really well.  The curve of vibrator isn’t so drastic that it scrapes my insides, but the head is nicely rounded with a broad distribution of vibes to make it really wonderful externally.  The vibes are strong but quieter than any other vibrator I’ve ever had.  It’s a no-nonsense vibrator and it just feels right to have it in my life. 

Blush Wellness G Curve nestled into yellow wildflowers

Blush has done a lot for the LGBTQ+ world, not just because their Avant Pride line is all different colors of gender and sexuality flags, but by how they have touched deeper parts of these communities.  Their fundraiser for local LGBTQ+ youth organizations last year provided a generous donation to both the Masakhane Center and the Ali Forney Center.  I know at Masakhane this has meant so much for us as many of the toys we use during our toy trainings and condom demonstrations come from Blush.  The fact Blush makes their products so affordable and body safe, plus the multifunctionality of each item, combined with their missions in social justice leaves me again in adoration and gratitude.   

I previously reviewed the Avant Beyond, a plug made with the colors of the genderqueer flag.  Being genderqueer and queer in general has been the closest identity I have ever understood, and although purple and green are my favorite color combination, it has been a challenge to find genderqueer flag representation in a lot of Pride products.   

Blush Avant Pride True Blue atop a bed of yellow wildflowers
Blush Avant Pride True Blue

I recently bought the True Blue from Blush’s Avant Pride line, a dildo using the colors of the transgender flag with unique curvature and a slim profile.  It was a crucial addition to my collection of Pride-themed toys, but it wasn’t until I first used it when I appreciated how interconnected it was in terms of aesthetic and function.  Frankly, I can’t take thick dildos anymore.  I either end up sore and achy for days or nursing brutal urinary tract infections from the friction, no matter how much lube.  The True Blue is thin enough to fit perfectly inside of me, long enough to help me feel like I’m actually being penetrated, and the placement of the curves offers just enough G-Spot stimulation without too much pressure.  It has the added squish and bend to conform to my innards, but somehow still has a suction base with enough heft to grab onto when thrusting.  It’s a perfect blend of shore, length, width, and usability.  A perfect overlap. 

Blush Avant Pride True Blue on a hoe
The suction is no joke. Alright, kind of a funny picture, but still…no joke.

Time has been exploded for a lot of folx lately.  People I talk to are experiencing Circadian disruption for what may be the first time in their lives.  Some days fly by where others are brutally slow, mushing together until we forget what a “case of the Mondays” may ever have meant.  We’re all traveling through this differently, figuring out what works and what doesn’t at our own pace, making memories while forgetting others, grasping for comfort and pleasure through familiarity, newness, and everything in between.  I may not masturbate the way I used to.  I do and don’t know what’s in the future.  I know I have this toy presentation due, I know I am taking a shower in fifteen minutes, I know Masakhane just got our presentation approved for Sex Down South in September, and yet I don’t know the struggles of tomorrow or what people are feeling on levels beyond checkout lines and social media.  I don’t know if anyone will read this post, but as I am slowly coming to re-realize again and again, some things I just need to do for me.  Whether that is rediscovering the erotic joy of writing this the sunlight as the good Lorde intended or listening to my mind/body when it tells me it is time to end this post.   

Avery's belly in the sun showing their moon ritual journal
The other page from my full moon journal.

I wish you wellness, pleasure, safety, and peace.  These may not be realities, but I can hold them in my heart as wishes.  Take care of yourselves and survive in the best way you know how, if you can, if you want.  I love you. 

Review of Mantric’s Rechargeable Rabbit

I feel like a fucking movie montage on repeat. Get up, shower, chug a cup of coffee while putting on my face, throw on some khakis, go to work, go to class, somewhere along the route house a sandwich in my car, come home, shower (maybe), get in bed. Literally rinse and repeat. Interchange work with internships, pop those internships into a Saturday slot, throw some Masakhane board meetings in on Sundays and BOOM, I had two actual days off during the entire month of September. 12 hours, 5 days a week, occasional weekends. I. Am. A. Zombie. Appropriate for spoopy month, eh? But for whatever reason, I’ve been making really meaningful connections with folx from my past, past jobs, past degrees, past conferences, past lovers. The connections I’m making at school are few so far, but one in particular has zapped my heartbrain in the most delicious ways and I feel like we’re going to do something magical together. I’ve been volunteering for Ducky’s Sex Ed Skill Share series, which again reinforces the importance of extending, but not overextending our resources just enough to pool them into a mess of passion for like-minded work. So that’s the update, in a really, really small nutshell. Maybe like, half a pistachio.

Mantric in the sun on a map of Aruba
Heh. “Arikok.”

I wanted to write a review of a toy I’ve had since spring, but hesitated because it is so physically alike two toys I’ve already reviewed, the Jopen Vanity Vr6 which USED to be my all-time favorite before testosterone made my front hole accommodate different shapes, and the We-Vibe Nova, which is still tolerable for insertion but the slippery-wiggly external part feels like it’s in a constant arm-wrestling battle with my clit whenever I’m sufficiently lubed up and hard. Dual points haven’t really been my go-to lately, but for some reason, maybe the slight difference in a less bulbous g-spot angle or a fraction of space between the shaft and the arm? I don’t know… it just works. Pre-T the Mantric was sort of an “eh” version of what I already liked, though it certainly had a few unique perks. Post-T I’m all for it.

Mantric Rabbit standing up

For starters, it stands on its own. Literally. Propped upright, it rests like the L’Amorouse Prism V, except even more stable. The base flares out with a little lip to balance it nicely, which makes it a great addition if I’m going on a rotational session with different toys and I want to revisit the Mantric without gooping my nightstand or picking up cat fuzz. The lip of the base also helps my grip, which makes the handle easier for thrusting. The single button is featured on the lip, but it is inset just enough that I have not once accidentally pressed it during use. The button cycles through different vibrations after its initial pale blue standby mode. It changes in strength as the colors switch through the clicks, then eventually goes into different vibrational rhythms. I know I’m not alone when I say that vibrational modes can be excessive, complicated, and especially frustrating when the only way to get back to a desired mode is by clicking the button and cycling through again. Something about the Mantric, though, maybe because there’s only like, four different modes and they’re all wildly different, makes me not mind them so much. The vibration patterns also seem to make more sense than you’re average “cha-cha slide” or zapping so quickly you feel like you’re being tased through the crotch. The yellow, for example, features a vibration for internal stimulation that almost feels like the toy is is being thrusted into me while the arm stays on a constant buzz. I’m for it.

A pretty hilarious mashup of Mantric’s vibration modes.

So I’m a sucker for the colors. The Mantric is a pretty bland purple, almost “winey,” but it has this dual panel at the base that looks really fancy even when it’s not on. It’s a clear bubble that reminds me of the bottom of Nike Air soles, and the colors transition smoothly into one another so it doesn’t blink brightly or obnoxiously in the dark. It’s definitely a bonus feature and probably shouldn’t be the main reason I love the toy so much, but to be honest, it kind of is. It gives a new sensory tangibility for transition, and being a visually-oriented person, there’s no guessing which mode I’m on because the color is right fucking there. It also helps me associate via memory which mode I like best which takes out additional guesswork.

The Mantric has strength, it has a reasonable amount of options, it has physical balance, it has manual usability, and it is colorful as fuck. Overall, not bad, not bad at all.

Review of Uberrime’s Night King

I typically put off writing blog posts for the usual five reasons:

1.) Life is immensely busy

2.) My mental health is not great

3.) My physical health is not great

4.) I haven’t had a chance to test a product

5.) I have nothing to say about the product

I haven’t gotten around to reviewing Uberrime’s Night King, but none of those reasons really factor in. I mean yeah, I’ve been busy as hell and not in the best headspace lately, but I’ve been itching to write this review for months now. As in, my mom was giving me GoT 101 back in May to explain the name of this toy. I brought it with me to Aruba for a photoshoot in June. It’s been my absolute go-to for penetration these days. In my mind, I’ve reviewed it over and over. It’s time to get the brain-thoughts into a post.

The Night King checks off all my marks and then some. It’s beautiful, featuring Marco’s signature marbling and flowery-spun colors at the base. Like Ice and Fire, the rich sparkled blues transition perfectly into reds, oranges, and a creamy yellow that drips over the top in an unapologetically suggestive way. It looks like a sunset, a beachy cocktail, a wand of superpowers, each color ribboning with complexity the closer you look at each detail. It’s visually the most striking toy in my collection, the contrast of cools and warms making it grab the eye. I keep moving it from shelf to shelf each time I use it to see how it looks in different angles, different light, among different toys. Every aspect of this toy is breathtakingly gorgeous. And yeah, sometimes it’s not about how a toy looks as long as it feels good, but the aesthetic is truly part of what made me fall in love with the Night King. And I fell hard.

Look at lil pre-T me with no jawline awwww…

Like I’ve said in previous posts, being on testosterone for 5 months has changed my junk. I have bottom growth, which was pretty inevitable, but I also am having increasing difficulty penetrating with harder toys. G-spot toys with bulbous heads are becoming too pinchy. Toys with firm texture are becoming intolerably uncomfortable even with generous helpings of lube. When I saw the length and girth of the Night King at first I thought it would be damn near impossible to use it. And like many of my other favorite toys, it proved me wrong in the best possible way.

Propped Night King
Balancing this thing on a fifth floor balcony railing was precarious at best.

The Night King is textured as fuck. It’s ridged in seemingly random arrays entirely down the shaft, a slight tilt at the head with a bit of a rim, just enough to nuzzle my G-spot on entry and exit. Which for me, is half the fun of insertive toys anyway, that moment where something first slides in and my body re-remembers the sensation of being filled. But the Night King doesn’t stop there. Each inch that goes deeper inside of me brings a new ridge with a new angle and a new stimulation I can never fully prepare for. Like, fuck, you know a toy is good when you get horny just writing about it.

Night King Base

It feels like fucking, like straight up fucking. The squish of it makes the texture absolutely delicious, and the length of it makes use so much easier. I don’t have to cramp up my hand or hold it at awkward angles; I can get as carried away as I want when going at it hard. And the length, which is great for grip, is also incredible for deep penetration. Whenever I use the Night King I end up taking it as deep as it can possibly go, having convulsive orgasms as I hit my A-spot and push up against my cervix. That dull ache of being completely filled, my kegels squeezing the toy while it’s inside me, feeling the ripples move themselves against my swelling insides, the lush silicone warming up orgasm after intoxicating orgasm, ughhhhh. This toy is SO good and I wish I were home right now to use it.

See THAT’s why I haven’t gotten around to writing about the Night King. I can’t stop using it. I can’t stop finding new things I love about it each time. I typically masturbate with something vibratey on my clit combined with a dildo. I use the Night King without a vibrator these days which is definitely a first. I’ve never just used a dildo and nothing else. It’s not quite enough to make me orgasm on its own, but it brings me so close I don’t even care. Well shit, I have the hugest boner right now. I finally own a sex toy that I’m not just obsessed with, but actually attracted to. Like if I could have a relationship with a toy, any toy in my collection, the Night King would be bae. It is seriously the best dicking I’ve ever gotten and I can’t stop using it. I have not one negative or critical thing to say. I’m infatuated with this dil and cannot thank Marco enough for its creation.

Night King Chess

If you like girthier, longer, squishier, more textured toys with heft yet ease of use, do your body a favor and grab a Night King. If you’re not sure but you have any ounce of curiosity, do your body a favor and grab a Night King. If you just want to swing around a floppy dildo for fun but also secretly want to test it out once or twice, do your body a favor and grab a Night King. Just grab a Night King… not mine of course, otherwise I’d stab you with Valryian steel and shatter you to pieces.

Thoughts on the ConCane(TM)

So this testosterone thing is real.  4 months in and the changes are weird.  I can’t think of a better word.  Sometimes they’re subtle like a high note I can no longer hit in the shower, sometimes they’re more obvious like body acne, and sometimes they’re downright triggering.  Everything that is happening was expected at some point.  I knew my smell would change, I knew my downstairs would change, I knew I’d have different emotions and that I’d gain weight.  What I didn’t expect was the rate of these changes.  Nothing could have prepared me for the feelings I feel, the way I relate to my sexuality, how I carry my body now.  Testosterone is just fucking weird.  I used to hate pressure wave toys, now I love them.  I used to love hard glass and silicone, now I can’t really tolerate rough penetration.  I expected to be a horny teenager wanting to hump everything that moves, but now it’s a yearning for touch, comfort, and warmth. I definitely masturbate a LOT more frequently, typically 2-3 times a day.  My redistribution of muscle mass is taking its toll on my lower back and WHERE the HELL did the carb cravings come from?   

Testosterone has flattened my affect.  I still can’t cry.  My ups and downs are more frequent, but less drastic.  So much of my desire to write comes from manic episodes, moments of brilliance and inspiration I now fear I’ve lost.  I’ve felt the urge to blog almost every day and yet I can’t craft something coherent.  I never used to care about that; I’d just pound it out, edit it for grammar, and hit “Publish” with the intention of raw and unfiltered content.  I see all these awesome things bloggers are doing.  Going to conferences, hosting workshopspublishing amazing booksreviewing new and innovative products.   It’s beautiful and makes me proud to be a part of this community but I’m also teetering into a hole of doubt.  One of my fellow board members at Masakhane imparted a wonderful Theodore Roosevelt quote during our last picnic together: Comparison is the thief of joy.  I think about how I navigate this world and how comparison can be intoxicating and extremely damaging to my sense of well-being.  I’ve always had a certain respect for competition, my Aries tendencies reveling in the energy competition can create.  To extricate comparison from competition is so deeply rooted in my own neurodivergences and traumas, I’m not even sure where to begin.  I also see this narrative amplified through the macrocosms of corporations, particularly those who claim to advocate for gender and sexual minorities.  Authentic collaboration is entangled in capitalism, and that’s a reality I am sinking into more and more with age. 

https://twitter.com/ThePalimpsex/status/1132281350436921344

So clearly, my brain/body connection has been very, VERY fucky lately.  I’ve seen a quote circulate Instagram lately from Jamie J. Leclair about how “Intellectualizing your trauma is not the same as working through or processing it.”  For me, it rings true.  Intellectualizing is my defense mechanism.  And so here we are, wading through it again.  I need to be more vulnerable.  I need to fuck up.  Cameron Glover said in a Disability After Dark podcast with Andrew Gurza that sometimes it’s more about getting the content out there.  For me, I think I need to stop thinking in binaries.  It’s not the opposite of intellectualizing that will light a fire under my ass, it’s just thinking creatively.  I put together my ConCane last week.  It’s something Cameron and I came up with at the NSEC conference where I used a cane to help with my sciatic flares.  I found a hollow acrylic cane with a clear Lucite handle on Etsy.  For the NSEC conference I filled it with the sheds from my recently deceased snake, Princess Buttercup.  I kept every one of her sheds preserved in Ziploc bags throughout her life, knowing I’d create something beautiful out of them one day.  Buttercup passed away in March in the peak of her pubertal years.  She was only 5 and became eggbound due to her spinal lesions.  She was so severely kinked and arthritic that passing eggs was too painful for her.  We tried warm baths, antiinflammatory injections, massage, but nothing worked.  Her death shook me in ways I hadn’t connected during the stress of the moment.   Here is this creature, my kin, suffering with similar disabilities and chronic pain, destroyed by her capacity to reproduce.  I’m still getting my fucking period on testosterone.  It is wreaking havoc on my back.  Hot baths, epidural injections, uterine massage…I miss you Buttercup. 

I had written a lengthy post about the ConCane last Friday during a 9 hour workshift where I was the only one in office.  I thought I had saved the post via Dropbox but it turns out I had only saved about half of it.  It’s not the first time I’ve lost a post and surely isn’t the last, but it broke me and I’ve spent the last week grieving, emotionally drained.  There was so much more I had written.  There was an outpour of gratitude to the companies, artists, and retailers in the field that donated minis/teenies for my cane.  There was a synthesis of how this cane has come to represent my identity in the nebulous frameworks of mind, body, and soul.  I am a collector.  I collect stonestoysfigurinesbooksticket stubspatches, all from different moments in my life that help me remember who I am and why I’m here.  Layered on to WHAT I collect is HOW I collect these treasured identity-markers: a rotating wooden zodiac altar for my stones, a lit cabinet for my toys, a DIY converted DVD case for my figurines, my father’s bookcase from his years at Princeton for my books, a triple goddess triptych made out of my tickets (after taking this picture of them I am now realizing I hung the waxing and waning backwards yikes), my “battle vest” for my patches and buttons…the methods are performative as vehicles of self-expression, decades of evolution with threads of consistency validating my embodied existence.  As someone who frequently dissociates, these are quite often literal touchstones to keep me grounded.  It resonates through my cane, a device used to brace my existence on all planes, a rod to channel my understandings of sexuality and disability, a display for the symbols of support within my community, a means of saying “thank you” every time I take a step.   

I am rewriting the remains of this blog post on another Friday 9 hour workshift, one where I was supposed to be at the Philadelphia Trans Wellness Conference.  I’ll be there tomorrow, but I’m experiencing a dose of FOMO for missing the first two days, though I’m doing my bit here.  I’m fielding phone calls, some from patients who are at the conference this very moment. I’m organizing care for my community in the ways I can.  I’m adapting to a limitation, where being “stuck at work” during a major event related to my identity is still an opportunity to subvert, reach out, and process.  I am so excited to see familiar faces tomorrow, to connect with new communities, to learn new perspectives, and best of all, to show off my new ConCane(TM).   

Want to see how I did it?  I livestreamed the process on Instagram.  Saved it to Youtube.  Added CC’s.  Enjoy!

Special thanks to:

Funkit
Uberrime
Lust Arts
Pleasure Forge
Phoenix Flame Forge
Strange Bedfellas
Monster Maxim
Hole Punch
SarahJGoodnight

Avery’s Top 40 Worst Sex Toys from a 2007 CalExotics Catalog

So with all the awesome blessings in my life right now, I’ve been busy packing up 6 years worth of belongings before my upcoming move to Somerville next Tuesday. I forgot I had a bunch of shit from my childhood in boxes up in the attic. One of these boxes had a whole batch of photo albums from disposable cameras during my teen years. I flipped through the albums, cringing, NOT at the photos themselves but the way I had captioned them. Things like “WUTZ ↑,” “Biffles 4ever!,” “Leonardo DiCaprio, eat ur heart out,” “We ArE sO kEwL!” You get the idea. I now realize this is psychologically genetic. My dad has kept photo albums since my childhood and captioned each picture with equally generationally corny subtitles. Even when he digitized these photos to an external hard drive, he kept all the awful captions in the fucking FILE NAMES.

I also found another relic in these boxes, a 2007 California Exotics catalogue, complete with vinyl-clad models in ridiculous positions on every other page. We stocked so much of this junk at Essex Adult Emporium, I could virtually smell the phthalates when flipping through the pages. I was blown away by how many shitty names, claims, materials, and packaging were in this magazine. I distinctly recall encouraging my manager to switch our inventory to better manufacturers, but I also remember there being at lease SOME toys from CalExotics that weren’t completely horrible. I mean, yeah, the hard plastic vibrators are still an okay start, bullets work too, but I’ll be damned if I could find a single silicone toy in this entire 300 page catalogue. Plenty of toys SAID they were silicone, but as most of us know, that’s a whole other thing.

So without further ado, I will begin a series of horribly captioned pictures for my “Top 40 Worst Toys” from the 2007 California Exotics magazine. I’ll describe the captions and use alt text with a bit of color commentary in between. I’ll also try to rank them from bad to worst but some of them are so off the map I don’t even know where they fit.

40

40 Shane's World Girl's Night Out swirly dual point vibrator with vibrating elephant

Starting out at number 40 is the Shane’s World Girl’s Night out. This dual-stim vibrator features an “EZ load battery case” and is made with “high grade, hygienically superior silicone,” two things I immediately think of when it comes to going on the town with my “girlfriends.” The toy is clearly not silicone and I guess having a jelly elephant twiddling your clit is the ultimate bonding experience during femme hijinks?

39

39 Remote Control Silicone Arouser not actual silicone meant to be inserted and worn internally with straps

39 is the Remote Control Silicone Arouser. Totally not silicone, totally thrown together with flimsy bra straps, complete with a protruding nubbin which I can only assume is supposed to vibrate internally while the rest vibrates externally. Full disclosure here, since I had a 50% off discount while working at the sex shop, I actually bought one of these as my first “couples toy.” Nothing about it fit any part of my body and I lost the remote after the first failed use. Garbage. Trash. Next.

38

38 Scintillating Sunflower strappy "hands-free" jelly vibrator shaped like a pink flower

38 is another one of those “hands free” strappy jelly vibrators, except this time it comes with a wired controller so I’m not really sure how this would pan out in one of those scenarios where you are trying to have a stealthy orgasm in public. I can just imagine the neon pink controller looking somewhat suspicious as the matching pink wire runs down your pants. What really got me laughing was the name, “Scintillating Sunflower (TM).” Note the trademark. I can only assume it’s because whoever named it thought “scintillating” was a fancy word and the alliteration was poetic genius.

37

37 Silicone Ultra Wireless Exciter with Sleeve clearly not silicone sleeved mini vibrator

Back in fake “silicone” land is the Silicone Ultra Wireless Exciter with Sleeve at 37. Normally when I think wireless I think there’s a remote option to control it. It’s just a mini bullet vibe. A mini bullet vibe with a control for “vibration, pulsation, and escalation” (These modes sure escalated quickly!). Again, the “hygienically superior” pitch becomes more and more common as these toys continue to profess their silicone composition. Over it.

36

36 35 Silicone Ultra Flashing Crystal Bunny supposedly silicone dual point vibrator plus grape scented jelly double dildo

In similar veins, 36 and 35 are featured on the same page. 36 is again, the fake Silicone ULTRA Flashing Crystal Bunny, y’know, in case you get lost in the woods or need to defend yourself against a bear. We sold this in the store and it smelled like absolute death. The texture was rough and bumpy, a perfect recipe for irritation.

35

35 also smelled horrible despite its description as a grape-scented Veined Double Dong. There are only a few fruity-scented items in the catalogue, but many of the worst smelling phthalate-ridden toys interestingly have a “Pleasantly Scented” stamp on them. My main issue aside from grape stench, is the description that it has an “AC/DC head.” I’ve never understood the AC/DC thing when describing sex toys. I’ve heard it referred to in voltage, I know it’s a band and also a pretty shitty way to describe bisexual people. But as far as double-ended dildos go, just…why?

34

34 33 Grape Vagina Strawberry Ass two strokers, one purple, one pink, grape and strawberry scented, vibrating

34 continues the aroma trend with the purple Grape Vagina and the pink Strawberry Ass. Smell aside, the descriptions are what kill me. The grape “vagina” (not “vulva,” mind you, which seems to be a reoccurring theme in the catalogue) is described as “Freshly scented,” while the Strawberry Ass is described as an “anus with noduled sleeve and succulent aroma.”

33

32 Cherry Scented Vibro-Dong vibrating jelly red dildo with a cherry aroma

33 culminates our scent series with the Cherry Scented Vibro-Dong, most often recognized for Epiphora’s hilarious April Fool’s joke a few years back. We also sold this at the store and not only is it fucking HUGE, but it was always covered with an oily sheen of chemical leakage. Delicious.

32

31 Love Vibes Double Lover supposed jelly dual stimulator covered in hearts but external heart nub contains no vibrator

Red wasn’t a very common color in CalExotics toys circa early 00’s, so most red toys were either fire-themed, berry-themed, or love themed. And what says love like number 32’s Love Vibes Double Lover, a supposed dual-stimulator covered in a swirl of hearts for texture. I say “supposed dual-stim” because the external part has absolutely no vibrating mechanism inside of it. It’s just this strange heart-shaped appendage barely attached to the rest of the vibe. AND the heart has hearts on it! That’s some meta lovin’ right there.

31

30 Bendi Clitifier dual point jelly stimulator with beads and assorted vibrating animals

In the theme of bad concepts for dual-stimulators is the Bendi Clitifier at number 31. Yes, “Bendi Clitifier.” I’m pretty sure neither of those are actual words. I understand “Bendi” means “bendy,” since the external attachment has an accordion-like stem to position the bullet. Now someone, please tell me what the hell is a “Clitifier?” I feel like that would be an awesome wrestling name or something in the campy horror-porn genre.

30

29 Pink Jelly Ele with Turbo Pearls dual point vibrator loaded with plastic pearls, pink jelly, and an elephant vibrator

Sometimes it’s a combination of the toy design and the name that makes my nethers twinge. 30’s Pink Jelly Ele with Turbo Pearls embodies that reaction. The shaft of this thing is entirely made up of “gyrating” plastic pearl beads with a vibrating elephant on the end. I can only assume the pearls jam up easily, as most of the shitty pearl rabbits we used to sell always broke even if just one or two pearls stopped working. I am, however, a huge fan of the description at the top of the box, “The Mystical Elephant.” It’s as though there were two sides in the naming process, one trying to make it cute as a “Jelly Ele,” the other trying to give it a supernatural spin. Either way, as my annoying handwritten caption states, I am completely mystified.

29

28 Jesse's Climactic Climaxer Jelly "Vaginal" arouser clearly meant to be used externally

Now at 29, we’re back to the alliteration game. California Exotics went all out on naming this toy. It doesn’t rhyme, it flat out uses the SAME WORD TWICE. Kind of. The Climactic Climaxer is described as an “ultra-powerful vaginal arouser with 3 seductive pistolettes and a luscious, soft mouth that forms a gentle yet secure suction cup over your vagina or nipples.” I just had to type out that whole description, it was too good. Though I’m not sure if it’s actually possible to suction “over” a vagina? I’ve had a menstrual cup crookedly suck against my vaginal wall but again, not really any vagina sucking happening.

28

27 Reverberating Jelly Beads purple jelly graduated vibrating anal beads

I think you get where I’m going by this point. 28’s Reverberating Jelly Beads are mostly on the list because of the word “reverberating.” I’m pretty sure someone just went to Thesaurus.com and typed in words like “vibrating,” “arousing,” “sexy,” and picked out any synonym they hadn’t used yet. “Reverberating” hasn’t been a go-to descriptor for anal beads as far as I’ve seen in the toy industry, but points for creativity.

27

26 Head Coach Pump Jelly sleeved penis pump

There are pages upon pages of penis pumps with their own personalities. There were fireman-themed pumps, military-themed pumps, matador-themed pumps, but the one that really intrigued me was the Head Coach Pump at number 27. Complete with a picture on the box of a shirtless (what I assume to be) football player, the Head Coach Pump emphasizes the sports theme by claiming the product is “ERECTION TRAINING!” (Caps on the packaging).

26

23 Shane's World Orgasm Balls kegel balls with cloth string shaped like 8 balls, basketballs, footballs, and soccer balls

Building off the sports theme is 26’s Shane’s World Orgasm Balls, kegel balls connected by string in various sports- themed shapes. Are you a renowned pool shark? A huge March Madness fan? Attending the next Super Bowl? In love with David Beckham? You’re set. Unless you really like badminton, then you’re just shit out of luck.

25

25 The Facilitator latex vibrating strap on with flimsy straps

Back during my years attending Widener’s Human Sexuality program, one of the most common phrases uttered by my classmates would be “Well, as an educator, I think…” Often our classes would be shared with therapy-track students and the phrase broadened to “As a facilitator, I think…” Number 25’s latex “dong” is aptly named The Facilitator. This giant chunk of bulky latex comes with a corded remote vibrator which will inevitably break after a few uses and is held up entirely by what looks to be a thin, adjustable bra strap. Funny names aside, this toy looks structurally impractical in every way.

24

24 Gold Balls in Presentation Box mystery metal kegel balls in a red box

24’s toy doesn’t have cords, strings, or any name in particular. It is simply titled Gold Balls in Presentation Box, like it’s a fucking Monet painting. If there are any artists reading this, I implore you to name your next piece “Gold Balls in Presentation Box.” Except trademark it since CalExotics didn’t. I know I don’t need to say these balls are probably made of crappy mystery metal, but I’m saying it anyway.

23

22 Colt Power Balls with Metal Chain anal beads with flimsy metal keyring attached

23 introduces a whole page of Colt Products, typically designed for “The Gay Male (TM)” demographic. You can tell it’s for particularly EXTREME gay men because there’s a metal chain and a key ring at the base of every toy. And for some reason the Colt Rammer with Metal Chain includes spikes on what might be described as testicles? I don’t know. I can’t imagine that chain being a very powerful retrieval cord, but at least it’s not string.

22

21 Silicone Ultra Probes clearly not silicone anal probe with no flared base

At least Colt uses retrieval cords, because 22’s Silicone Ultra Probes (almost accidentally typed “Problems,” but that would have been just as accurate) has nothing at all. No string, no loop, no cord, no flare. Just pointy, “hygienically superior silicone” with a rough, bumpy texture that is bound to destroy your intestines the moment your lubey fingers lose their grip. I’m baffled at how many anal products California Exotics sell with no method of retrieval or security whatsoever.

21

20 Waterproof Anal Probe plastic vibrating anal toy with no flared base

Number 21’s Waterproof Anal Probe is at least hard plastic, but again, where is the fucking flare? There are NO excuses on this one because the prescribed usage is literally in the name “Anal Probe.” It is definitely going to probe. It is definitely going to go where no other butt toy has gone before. My insides hurt thinking about how it would feel to have a hard plastic probe working its way through my guts while left on vibrate. If this grosses you out, it well should. Not trying to yuck yums, but getting a toy lodged further and further up your intestines is pretty dangerous and a very expensive trip to the ER.

20

19 Alexa's Crystal Wand jelly clear anal wand with no flared base

20. We’re almost there. Alexa’s Crystal Wand is not made of crystal. Its “stimulation beads” are well embedded in the toy for decoration, not sensation. There’s no flare. Moving on.

19

18 Hearts of Love jelly clear butt plug shaped with graduated hearts

I keep thinking about the uselessness of the heart nubbin on 32’s Love Vibes Double Lover. I appreciate that 19’s Hearts of Love butt plug puts some function into the heart shapes. It’s really just the name I can’t get past. Like, “Happy Anniversary, honey! I got you a smelly jelly graduated butt plug with a ‘superior suction base!’” I’m pretty sure we stocked this at the store and it was so unpopular we took it off the shelves.

18 and 17

17 Waterproof Bunny Treat Carrot Shaped Vibrator16 Vibra Dolce Corn Cob Vibrator

So anyone who’s read my blog knows I appreciate silly toys, so long as they’re actually body safe. Funkit’s Pumpkin Almond and Gespensts Farmer’s Delight mingle humor with functionality, and that’s really how it should be. 18 and 17 miss the mark by miles. 18’s Waterproof Bunny Treat is quoted as “Just like the real thing!” Except I don’t want the real thing. A hard, pointy carrot has zero appeal for any hole but my mouth. 17’s Vibra Dolce has me confused by the name. If they have to call the carrot a “Bunny Treat” couldn’t they call the corn a “Squirrel Treat” or something? Where the heck does the name “Vibra Dolce” come from?

16

15 Dr. Z Loving Vibrations purple jelly vibrator shaped like a penis covered in nodules

Similar in texture is the bizarre number 16. Kind of a corn cob with the leafy base and the texture except not, because it’s pale purple and has a dick tip. What confuses me even more than the corn/glans combination is the name: Dr. Z’s Loving Vibrations. This is apparently a whole line by Dr. Z, also known as Victoria Zdrok, a sex therapist, playmate, and clinical psychologist. I’m wondering if she actually signed off on this toy and if so, WHY?

15

14 Dr. Joel Kaplan Prostate Probe anal beads that look sharply spiked on each bead

Another Doctor with their name attached to a CalExotics toy line is Dr. Joel Kaplan. I find the promotional methods interesting in comparison, Zdrok is dressed in a revealing nurse’s outfit and Kaplan is in a suit and tie. What’s more interesting is that I can’t actually find anything certifying Kaplan as a doctor except for a case filed by the FDA in 2001 telling him that his products are ineffective if not outright harmful. Makes sense when you look at number 15, the Dr. Joel Kaplan Prostate Probe. There are spikes on every ball of these anal beads. I don’t care if it’s the softest jelly in the world, that shit can’t feel good.

14

13 Man Shark Enhancer Ring Clear jelly cock ring with dozens of jelly teeth

Another toy that looks far too spiky to be pleasurable is 14’s Man Shark Enhancer Ring. Even if these shark teeth did feel good, the “silicone soft ticklers” are clearly jelly and the whole thing looks like a bacterial gunk trap. All I can think of when seeing this is the “Suck my diiiiiick! I’m a shaaaark!” meme, hence the googly eyes I drew on the page.

13

12 Futurotic Clitoral Stimulator with Floral Prongs Corded bullet with futurotic sleeve that looks like a facehugger from Alien

As many folx already know, jelly and other shitty toy materials are often labeled with ridiculous names, like Sil-a-Gel or Cyberskin. Enter number 13’s Futurotic(R) Clitoral Stimulator with Floral Prongs. FLORAL PRONGS. This thing looks like a combination of an anemone and a face-hugger but pink. I could see it possibly feeling good if the material were better quality. Then again, the sleeve is removable so you could potentially use it once and just keep the bullet, but nah, pass.

12

11 Stroker Bud masturbation sleeves internally colored to look like flowers

The Floral Prongs look as much like a flower as the Stroker Bud does. This jelly masturbation sleeve is clear, but dyed on the inside to look like a tulip. The green part seems ridged and I’m willing to bet that after one use the dye rubs off all over whatever you’re fucking it with. There are a lot of fantasy sleeves out there made with far better materials that won’t fall apart after one use. The Stroker Bud lands at number 12 mostly because it makes me want to see some dude in an Easter bunny costume fuck it while lying in a spring meadow.

11

10 Senso Pocket Penis masturbation sleeve shaped like a penis

Or, if sticking your dick in a flower stroker isn’t your thing, you could always stick your dick in number 11’s Senso Pocket Penis. So, there’s no measurements in the description, meaning this stroker could very well be used for all sizes and types of dicks, kind of like how the Buck-Off operates. The dickception part is what gives me the giggles. Dicks in dicks. And if the person using it is a jerk named Richard, it could be dick Dick’s dick in a dick.

10

9 Linn Thomas Talking Love Doll with pre-recorded sex talk

Then again, you could always stick your dick in Linn Thomas’s Talking Love Doll (number 10…we’re almost there!) It includes pre-recorded “sex talk” which has me wondering if there’s a way to hack the recording box to make the doll sing Pavarotti or yodel. This brings back childhood memories of my Teddy Ruxpin, which was cute until my sister hit me with it and the speaker inside is hard as a rock. I also just noticed that the description has “jointed arms” and “orbital sockets” in bold font as some sort of selling point. I don’t like to shame fuck dolls, but this is just some sloppy next level disaster shit.

9

8 Vibra Phone Vibrating Flip Phone

A toy I WISH had a talking feature would sensibly be the Vibra Phone at number 9. The toy clearly dates the catalogue as it is a flip phone with an antenna, not even that cool RAZR I had freshman year of college. I’m not entirely sure which part of the phone vibrates, and its “Secret Agent” description has me thinking it had some real Talkboy potential. Okay, now I’M dating myself.

8

7 Funky Jelly Vibe in tye-dye colors

Continuing with the retro theme is the Funky Jelly Vibe at number 8. Coming in either pink and purple tye-dye or Nickelodeon-style orange and green, this vibrator could have had some real potential if the materials were better. This toy is unintentionally honest in its title, since Funky Jelly is likely to be the first thing you smell when opening the package.

7

6 Waterproof Mood-Light Jelly Penis Vibrator with a color-changing light at the tip

Right now this is easily the longest and most extensive blog post of my adult life. I’m feeling exhausted and cranky. If only I had the Waterproof Mood-Light vibrator (number 7) to tell me my true emotions. It seems like only the head of the vibe changes colors and I doubt it’s actually thermal reactive which gets me thinking, is it possible to manufacture body-safe glass “mood” dildos? Because the 90’s kid in me would totally buy that.

6

6 Pussy Whip Flavored Cream Cherry Rum, Cinnamon Schnapps, Blackberry Brandy

My final throwback item from this catalogue that really makes me scratch my head is number 6’s Pussy Whip Flavored Body Topping. It’s obviously non-dairy and I really, REALLY don’t want to know what the ingredients are. I am cracking up at the flavors, though! First of all, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Cherry Rum. I’ve seen Cinnamon Schnapps and I used to nip my mom’s Blackberry Brandy when I was a teenager, but what the ever-living fuck is “Cherry Rum?” And WHY did they choose these flavors? Like, what would that demographic even be?

5

5 Body Teasers Vibrator with Hair Bristles on the other end

If you wanted to get creative, you could always apply your gross Pussy Whip with a vibrator that doubles as a basting brush! Number 5’s Body Teaser combines a hard plastic G-spot vibrator with what CalExotics calls “soft teasers,” aka polyester bristles with what I assume are for tickling purposes. Or a really ineffective toothbrush. Either way, it’s a bacterial breeding ground and one of the weirdest multipurpose “add-ons” I’ve ever seen on a sex toy.

4

4 Universal Adult Toy Lubricant Silicone on Silicone

Number 4 gives me flashbacks from my awful experience with MEO. Ruining one of my favorite toys with what MEO called a water-based lube (it was actually silicone) always makes me wary of any lube that is dubbed “Universal.” Like, nothing is universal, especially when it comes to sexuality. So when I saw this Universal Adult Toy Lubricant was “safe for all toys and materials” AND “silicone based” I wish I could say I was surprised at the error. I wish I could say this was the first time a company has been dishonest or uninformed about their lube ingredients. Number 4 is just frustrating on so many levels.

3

3 Gerbil Flex Stimulator

I think South Park is problematic for a lot of reasons and I grew up in a time where Snopes didn’t exist to debunk myths. There used to be unconfirmed rumors about Richard Gere putting a gerbil in his ass with a toilet paper roll, something so outrageous that people didn’t care about the validity but enjoyed the absurdity of it all. I once included this toy in a college sociology paper based on the folklore of “gerbilling.” That was in 2005. That’s how long this toy has been in existence. I can’t tell if there’s actually a market for it or if California Exotics is just too stubborn to discontinue it. The Gerbil Flex Stimulator is a bronze color with a little rodent face at the tip of the bullet. I feel like no further explanation is required for why it landed at number 3.

2

2 Butt Candy Prickly Butt Plugs

Butt Candy. Number 2. Appropriate, considering these plugs are essentially designed to scrape the shit right out of your colon. Even if these were silicone, there is NO WAY they could ever be “Hygienically Superior” based on texture alone. Yikes.

1

1 Dick and Balls Latex Penis Mask

You made it! Number 1! Number 1 is so bad that you probably looked at the picture before reading the description. It is ALL HORRIFYING. The Dick & Balls Latex Penis Mask contributes the inspiring quote “Sometimes, you just gotta be!” Remember listen as your mask unfolds, challenge what the dickhead holds, try and scare your roommates in your own sweet time. Some may have more sense than you, others never want this view, my oh my…

Hey, hey, hey.

Review of Uberrime’s Jellyfish 2.0

Get ready to be jelly…

My Glasswear Studios Jellyfish plugs.
My glass jellyfish plugs.

Insert all jelly puns here.  Actually, don’t. Because the only jelly I want inserted from now on is the Uberrime Jellyfish 2.0 dildo.  No K-Y, no Smucker’s (though chutneys are always welcome), and DEFINITELY no PVC mystery materials. Judging by the amount of double-entendres and jelly references I’ve been making since the arrival of this dildo, the Jellyfish 2.0 really shines as a conversation piece.  The shimmer, the glitter, the glow-in-the-dark dribble, the texture, the squish, the size…it’s fucking gorgeous in multisensory aesthetic. And this jellyfish isn’t even that jell-y! It’s actually quite firm. I guess you could say the concept of this dildo has really gelled with my philosophies on the beauty of form meeting function.  Okay, okay, time to reel it in.

Stardew Valley Jellyfish joy.

I’ve had an evolving relationship with tactilely complex insertables through the years.  As bodies change, so do minds, preferences, desires, and reactions. Nothing in my blog explains this better than the “three bears” metaphor with my ocean collection (one too soft, one too hard, the Jellyfish 2.0 ALMOST just right).  In addition to my Tails and Portholes Leviathan and my Simply Elegant glass dildo, Uberrime completes this trifecta of nautical novelties, stepping my fantasy collection up a notch with its (literally stunning) design and thoughtful approach.  I missed the boat when I failed to get my tentacles on the Tails and Portholes Jellyfish and the Whipspider Jellyfish before both companies closed, so I was super excited when She-Vibe shipped me this treasure.

Uberrime Jellyfish 2.0 blue purple light and thick vapor

Uberrime’s reboot packs a punch, one I’ve read about in review after review about the Jellyfish 2.0.  So many beloved bloggers have been reviewing this particular dildo, generating a fascinating scuttlebutt for note comparisons.  The marvelous thing about sex toy blogging is that there isn’t necessarily a scarcity versus abundance economy for content. Obscure toy reviews are super intriguing niche-reads; likewise, it’s also valuable to review toys which still exist on the market.  When companies like Uberrime get the exposure they deserve, it provides unique opportunities as readers and reviewers to take advantage of new products and dispense as much information as possible. Since bodies and sensations are different among and between bloggers, it has been a true pleasure to read different interpretations of the Jellyfish 2.0 experience.  

Uberrime Jellyfish 2.0

In a playful attempt at scientific “methodology,” I made sure to test the Jellyfish 2.0 several times before reading anyone else’s reviews.  And so far the data lines up. I’ve read the word “pop” in at least four reviews now, and I’m going to go ahead and echo that observation. Unlike the floppy tip of the Leviathan head which made it difficult to guide inside of me, the Jellyfish 2.0 has quite a firm head in mild contrast to its shaft shore.  This made insertion much easier at point of contact, but the moment its head gets completely inside me there is a tangible “pop.” It’s like the firmness of the coronal ridge drops off into the Marianas Trench of medium-shore squiggles and ribbons. The head locks against my G-Spot until I make a considerable effort with lube to push onward.  

Uberrime Jellyfish 2.0 with 16.9 oz water bottle for scale
Glittery purple water bottle for scale.

My biggest surprise with the Jellyfish 2.0 was not my fondness for the shaft.  I knew I’d enjoy the ripples the way I enjoyed the suckers of the Leviathan. I love hard silicone dildos when they’re smooth, but I prefer bumpy silicone at a medium shore.  What surprised me was the unexpected discovery of my A-Spot. I’ve been able to feel my A-Spot externally by pressing above my pubic bone, a technique I learned from Girly Juice’s external G-Spot heart tattoo.  When I mutually masturbate next to my partner, he can often help me orgasm just by adding external pressure to my A-Spot while I use my toys. I had never felt it internally with any previous toys until the Jellyfish 2.0 and when I say I was shocked, I mean my whole body twitched and froze like someone put a Petrificus Totalus curse on me.  Apparently I said “What the fuck?!” with a tone of disbelief, fascination, and amusement, but I was so in my body at that point I had no idea what else was going on around me.

gif of rotated Uberrime Jellyfish 2.0 in all angles and glowing in the dark
And because Adam worked so hard to make this GIF.

The Jellyfish 2.0, with its protruding head and lube-hungry ridges, will not be a dildo I use with vim and vigor.  I appreciate how the tentacles extend and flatten towards the base, creating little risen and indented surfaces for my thumbs to pinch.  I think that, given this dildo’s propensity to anchor inside of me, a wider, thicker, and firmer base akin to NYTC’s Shilo might give it better grip for thrusting.  The base is just wide enough to fit through a metal O-Ring on my harness, but with enough tugging, the squishy flare gives way and the entire thing pops out. It’s a moot point dramatization since nobody is likely going to be yanking my dick like they’re starting a motorboat.  Overall I think the Jellyfish 2.0 is probably more of an edging dildo than an orgasm dildo as it feels nice with slight movements, but anything too rigorous gets a bit uncomfortable as I get more aroused. It has certainly sparked my curiosity with regards to Uberrime’s ever-expanding line and I am very interested to try more of their products!

Why I do what I do (Workshop Edition)

 

Dead name included for posterity!

Watching myself in 2011 give a sex toy workshop for Masakhane is bizarre. It’s borderline uncomfortable. I see how differently I talk about toys now and how increasingly protean my workshops have become. I actually stop to talk to people…I don’t just run a checklist 101 script. I ask folx what they want to know, what they’re curious about, and I don’t go into my workshops thinking people know nothing about toys. For example, in the following video I’m training Masakhane interns; they’ve been in their summer session for a month now. They know their shit.

And are clearly very excited about this workshop.

Someone asked me Friday where my first foray into the world of toys began. I’ve never really talked about that before in a workshop. I’ve never gotten to just be like “Hey, I bought some terrible products when I was a teenager– it’s pretty common.” I’ve never gotten to be like, “That showerhead tho, amirite?” or reminisce about my shittiest purchases at Spencer’s. I’ve never gotten asked about why my family is so fucking cool with my sexuality. Actually, I’ve never gotten asked about my family in general during a workshop.

(PS: Click the video to get to the Youtube page… I provide full timestamps so you can skip ahead to topics that may interest you.)

I started this one by saying I didn’t want to do the typical toy rundown or prescribe any order or designation. And yet in a typical queer contradiction, I still lined all my butt plugs together and cordoned off a spot for the lubes. I’ve noticed how the toy selection has improved, how my knowledge has expanded to a more scientific realm, how enthusiastically I refer to other bloggers or toy makers. People change. Teaching and learning is all about change. I don’t know why I was so surprised by the directions this training took. Chaotic, funny, beautiful, and brilliant.

Folx were using squishy toys in all their sensory glory, angry rants were had about the importance of libraries, interns were matching dildos to each other’s auras…the whole thing was so fucking fun. It’s probably the most fun I’ve ever had teaching a toy workshop. I think I’ve said that before, but if anything it just confirms that I’m meant for this field. It reminds me why I do what I do, and how much I appreciate how advocacy manifests in all ways, from a workshop to a blog post. A glitter bomb at Newark Pride to a freshly untangled Vesper (thanks Shayne). It’s all relevant and critical and I can’t fucking WAIT for Woodhull next week. I can’t wait to learn more and feel more. To exist in uncomfortable spaces and find solidarity in unexpected places. I love what I do and I’m grateful as hell.

The summer Masakhane interns from left to right: Bethany, Maddy, Sarah, Lauren, Shayne.

Companies, blogs, and general websites mentioned in this workshop (in order of appearance):

LinkedIN
Rutgers program
Transgender Training Institute
Sexuality and Aging Consortium
Sex and the City clip
Essex Adult Emporium
Phthalates
Woodhull Sexual Freedom Summit
Circles of Sexuality
Sliquid Swirl
Smitten Kitten’s Lube Guide
The Meo Disaster
njoy
Dear Lelo by Dangerous Lilly
Lorax of Sex’s Lelo Hex Experiment 
Godemiche grossness
Automatic lube dispensers!
Tantus
We-Vibe
Silicone shore
Funkit
FOSTA/SESTA
Tails and Portholes
Phoenix Flame Forge
Promo codes and deal pages
Dangerous Lilly’s glass study
Simply Elegant Glass
Crista Anne
Lilly and Kenton’s clear silicone test
Butt plug burning
Magic Wand
Crave
Pico Bong Transformer
Jopen
Good Vibrations
L’amorouse
Minna Ola
Violet Wand
New York Toy Collective
Aneros
Geeky Sex Toys
NS Novelties Colours line
BS Atelier Bingo
Blush’s Pride line
Liberator

Thoughts on Pride™

CN: Brief mention of trauma in the italicized paragraph below.

This has been a PRIDE MONTH. Like, imagine me screaming “PRIDE MONTH” with emphatic hand gestures representing part exhaustion, part awe, and a generous helping of frustration. My patience has been at an historic low these weeks…I wouldn’t say “short fuse,” but something along the lines of “my depression has no room for the inconceivable amount of bullshit the world has to offer lately.” Nevertheless, with joy comes sorrow and all of the emotional spectrums in between.

Take a seat, things are about to get real.

I had started this post at the beginning of June, feeling deeply inspired by the Sense8 finale and finding all of this resonance with the world around me, beyond me, inside of me. When the show concluded with The Magnetic Field’s “Nothing Matters When We’re Dancing,” I felt this uncanny connection to the conclusion of José Esteban Muñoz’s Cruising Utopia. The book ends with lyrics from The Magnetic Fields’s “Take Ecstasy with Me,” discussing the importance of vacillation within our given queer time and space. Knowing the importance of emotion beyond feeling, of living beyond existing, but simultaneously conscious of how everything is born from something else and it’s all fucking inseparable.

I’m confusing myself a lot lately and while it’s completely overwhelming, it’s also a profound experience of what it’s like to process my thoughts through a raw and affective glow. Random bursts of tears, laughing harder than I should, desperately trying to smile but not understanding how all of this emotion is supposed to manifest in my body. My sex drive has taken an almost political strength, where I masturbate with militant intention, slipping into orgasm with a sharp awareness of the ongoing and worsening struggles around me and inside me. I don’t understand myself, but I’m not sure I have to right now.

I know that pride is really complex and sometimes universally simple, but I know I’ve also grown really tired of this assimilationist conglomeration of “Love is love” when it’s worth so much more than that. The simplification of critically uncomfortable discussions and the capitalization of queer visibility scares the shit out of me. It’s nothing new; I’ve been preaching “self-preservation versus self-advocacy” for years. I had a conversation with one of my beloved exes and explained to him how I started this beautiful blog post in early June and it got deleted…how that just sucked all the momentum out of me because I felt like I finally contextualized something unnameable that has threaded through my life since my first experiences of trauma and love. I told him that I’d never be able to rewrite it and how I felt it offered such a value of insight to this blog, how I know I needed to just “let go” (another mantra for 2018 so far) and push forward. How I feared disclosing all of the above for the sake of a blog post because I’m not looking to capitalize off of my work but also, I kind of am? He told me to stop thinking and just do. I say, why not both?

At age sixteen I was skanking with my ex-girlfriend during prom to Reel Big Fish’s “Sell-Out,” laughing at the irony, yet not realizing how much more disgusting the irony would get throughout my life. I haven’t been to a Pride Parade in over a decade and yet still garnish my lifestyle with rainbows like my “baby gay” self did at age sixteen. Justin Vivian Bond posted an Instagram clip of a New York Times article entitled “5 Ways to Celebrate Pride Away from the Mainstream,” and I have to say, I’ve felt like such a bad gay for not marching with my queer families today. But I also know I’m celebrating and making myself visible in ways that still matter.

The since discontinued Tantus Rocket. The Asteroid is still available in this color scheme on their website.

I typically spend most of Pride month with my biological family, one full of queer positivity and queer-identified members. These past few Junes have been increasingly soul-searching and I don’t think I could have done a lot of that introspection without the support of my family. How instead of being at New York’s parade today, I was helping my sister unwrap her baby shower gifts and sipping mimosas. And while I was mired in baby obligations, I know I more than likely would have avoided NYC Pride even if I could go.

NYC pride 2007 I believe? @laura_scarano #tbt

A post shared by Avery (@thepalimpsex) on

A lot of this avoidance comes from the trauma I associate with cities. I have a tremendous fear of cities in general. New York was a place for me to explore my queerness as a springy teenager where I’d romp around St. Mark’s getting piercings or buying overpriced vintage Doc Martens and sneaking into bars. New York was also my first kink scene, introduced to me by a dear friend from college. But with “The City” came a lot of phobias and fears: fears of being trapped, not being able to find a bathroom, not being able to rest, not being able to breathe. I used to enjoy the astounding empathy of eye contact when walking past New Yorkers, wondering what each and every one of them were thinking, what their stories were. I tried to be a city kid when I moved to the Bay, but even then, I rarely crossed into San Francisco. My car window was smashed on my birthday while living in Oakland. I narrowly escaped a mugging during SF Pride by using the pepper spray I never thought I’d have to use. Even Philadelphia was a great nugget of gayness for a while until I no longer felt safe going back to the clubs where my abuser is still currently performing. Cities mean people, people mean unpredictability and inevitable conflict.

I’ve tried to honor these conflicts by picking my battles, and I know I can’t live in the woods forever. I know things balance out and time provides a great avenue to reflect on change, but for now I celebrate my pride by spending private time with other queers playing Overwatch, eating sushi with the enby loves of my life, sobbing over the new season of Queer Eye, and fucking myself with Pride-colored toys. And even THEN! Even then, I worry about which companies to support and which ones are just feeding into some messy agenda.

I see companies making “Pride-Themed” toys out the ass lately and part of me is elated that these things are now so widely available. The last minute of Sense8 featured a cum-covered Fun Factory Amor Pride laying on the sheets after a celebration of unity…I squealed. But then there are companies with really problematic behaviors auctioning off one-of-a-kind Pride items at ridiculous prices just because it’s for a “good cause.” Shouldn’t accessibility be a part of this picture? Is that really how to run a fundraiser, through exclusivity, rather than making your work available to all à la Kenton’s Red NoFrillDo campaign?

I’m running out of steam. A blog post that was meant to be a mental check-in before a full-fledged review will have to organically take its course. I have a veritable fuckton of Pride toys now and I’m extremely proud of them. And while I absolutely adore my new Avant Beyond butt plug for how it feels and works, I’d much rather praise it for the role it has in reimagining my sexual ferocity. How right here, right now, in this very moment, I am conflicted and conflicting, overprojected and verbose, shamelessly navel-gazing in a swirl of color, filled with love and gratitude for the things I have learned during this particular Pride Month. The sheer volume of work that needs to be done, the distinctions we need to make between visibility and safety, the specificity and power of words which complement actions, and the courage to face the unknown are all somehow connected to or fueled by some form of love.

I’d meant to write this post in the beginning of June. I’m finishing it now. And crying. Also crying. One of my clients at work keeps reminding me to “trust the process.” So here goes.