I’m on edge, watching my every move. Like the first day on a new job. Like the feds are after me. Like a driving test. Like masturbating at age 15. But I am not actually in a high-stress situation. I just have something in my vagina. And its name is Evi. The Aneros Evi is a… kegel exerciser. Imagine me saying that with the same sort of hesitance in my voice as when I say “don’t worry, I can kill that spider” or “surely the Republicans can’t continue standing by him after this.” In actuality, the Evi is more defined by what it is not: it is not a butt plug (although it looks just like one), and it is . . . read more

Oh, Fun Factory. You poor things. Do you not realize what the word “bouncer” insinuates here in America? That’s the guy who slices up fake IDs in vodka commercials. The guy who tells you your slacks are not appropriate for the sex club. The guy whose existence you begrudgingly accept because he might protect you from peril at some point, but who is mostly just macho and huge and ridiculous. It’s true that the Bouncer needs a technical name, though, since simply meandering across its shape would not grab your attention. You’d never know without reading a description or holding this dildo in your hands that each ripple contains a free-moving ball, ready to roll around when the toy is jostled. Yeah — kegel ball style. . . . read more

Recently my girlfriend admitted that, while fingering me, they wondered, is it possible to break someone’s fingers with a vagina? So I’m being up front with you: that is the caliber of vagina we’re dealing with, here. That is my ridiculously toned PC muscle. That is years and years of squeezing dildos like a boa constrictor seizing its prey. I do it without thinking, because much of the pleasure I derive from dildos comes from throttling them. Maybe I’m imagining I’m crushing men’s heads. I dunno. This is to say that I’m not the prime candidate for the Minna kGoal, ((I see which side they land on in the “keegul or kaygul” debate.)) a pelvic floor strengthening vibrator with corresponding phone app and kegel workouts. However, . . . read more

My rollercoaster ride with the OVO L1 Silicone Love Balls began one fateful afternoon in August. Days before, I’d sweated my ass off cleaning and organizing my garage. But it was not completely The Worst, because I had the LELO Luna Beads in my vag. They jiggled and joggled as I hauled boxes back and forth, reminding me that life was perhaps worth living despite the creeping despair that comes with realizing you own way too much goddamn stuff. Then, a few days later, I put in the OVO kegel balls, hoping to replicate the experience as I continued packing for my new home. And… I promptly forgot they were in. They were in for many hours, and I was doing strenuous work, yet they did not shiver, they . . . read more

Imagine a cat with its head tilted to the side in puzzlement. That is me whenever I use the LELO Hula Beads… only a lot less cute. It’s a head tilt that turns to a subtle wince that melts into a side eye and ends with a weary sigh. The confusion begins with the fact that the Hula Beads are not kegel exercisers, I guess, but are still called Beads, just like LELO’s wonderful Luna Beads kegel balls. The Hula Beads are shaped like conjoined orbs, but that’s where the similarity ends. So what are they? They’re rechargeable, waterproof, remote-controlled thing-a-ma-bobs that you insert vaginally and can wear around. For… pleasure? The smaller tip rotates and the base vibrates. There’s no way to turn the . . . read more

The stone egg of my dreams showed up at work the other day. I’ve been waiting patiently for it, ogling the eggs with each new shipment. But I knew this egg was the one the moment I laid eyes on it. Buying a house is not like that. No matter what those delusional (and/or extremely lucky) people say, you will not know a house is “the one” when you see it. You will not be filled with immense, undeniable joy. You will, instead, look around, nod, and say, “yeah, this could work.” Then spend the next week wondering if you’ve made a grave error in submitting an offer — an offer which was accepted. In the past three months we’ve . . . read more

[Hoorah! This toy is now a reality and I tried it!] Everyone pause and bask in this moment. I have found a sex toy crowdfunding campaign that isn’t shitty. It’s a squeezable silicone bulb — er, they’re calling it a pillow — that measures the clenching of your pelvic floor muscles, and it’s called the kGoal (get it? Sounds like “kegel”? If you pronounce “kegel” that way?). It charges via USB and wirelessly communicates with an app on your phone, which serves up your exercise history, suggested workouts, and “max squeeze.” I see a community scoreboard coming on. As added incentive, the kGoal’s motor offers vibrational biofeedback as you do your exercises, while the outer arm is equipped with a status light and second . . . read more

Have you ever looked at a jump rope, bike lock, thighmaster, or lasso and thought, “oh hey, I bet that’d be good in my vagina”? Yeah, me either. And so, I was prepared to hate the Magic Banana, because: 1. Just look at it. 2. It’s called the Magic Banana. 3. Just look at it. 4. It came with a “note on empowerment.” 5. Just look at it. COMING SOON TO A VAGINA NEAR YOU! TOTAL AND COMPLETE EMPOWERMENT! THE REVOLUTION WOMEN HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR! ((That’s an actual sentence written on the empowerment note.)) THE REVOLUTION WILL BE VAGINIZED! FEMINISM OVER! Truth from a friend: “I feel like that’s not how empowerment works… people don’t mail it to you.” Shrink wrapped in a box . . . read more

The Jopen Vanity VR1 kegel balls have offended my vagina. Deeply. They are supposed to vibrate when squeezed. Oh, in my hand they do. In my hand they do. In my vagina, no matter how hard I clench, they don’t. This is an affront to my vagina and its power. Ugh, Jopen. I both hate and love you and that is just uncool. I don’t appreciate having to be nuanced. Not my specialty. It’s ironic because the VR1 balls are not nuanced at all. There is but one sensor, on the big ball in the middle on one side. So I turned the balls around. I inserted just one ball. I squeezed like my vagina’s reputation depended on it. Nothing. You can’t tell me that . . . read more