Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Flaming Bush

Since we've been talking about Body Image recently, I thought I'd reflect on an aspect of it that's very important to me.

Although by no means as prevalent in America as it is in England, there's always been an undercurrent in the media that red-headed men simply aren't sexually attractive.

According to magazines, television and movies, we're the antithesis of what's supposedly attractive to women - the cliche of being 'tall, dark and handsome' - with the emphasis on 'dark.'

In America, Eric Stolz and David Caruso do a sterling job portraying red-headed men who actually do get laid, but in the British media, it's normally the opposite.

From Ron Weasley in Harry Potter (portrayed as 'the funny guy,' the amusing coward and the generally incompetent sidekick) to lesser known characters (like Martin the ginger virgin from 'Game On') it's a basic requirement of lazy writing that if you want to portray a character as insecure, timid, meek and sexually void - just give him ginger hair.

And should a red-headed man actually get laid, the women they share their beds with are then immediately opened up to ridicule. I had one British girlfriend who refused to tell her parents what color her new boyfriend's hair was ("It's.... erm.... a sort of rich auburn brown, Dad") because of the reaction she expected.

Even amongst her supposed-friends, interactions commonly resembled something like this, which I spotted on Canadian webcomic 'Least I Can Do':

Certainly, in my interactions with American women this hasn't been so much of an issue - and even if Britain, redheaded women never tended to be regarded the same negative way. In girls, red hair is normally equated with a fiery, passionate personality. Think of all those 'red-headed dames' from film noir private eye movies.

But red-headed men are always considered less. It's another aspect of how the media shapes society's attitude towards what is and isn't considered attractive - and further definitive proof that 'body image' isn't just a feminist issue - but more of a human one.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

When Sex Toys go Bad

Unless you're a Sex Blogger - in which sex toy materials are probably second nature to you - it's easy to assume that all dildos and vibrators are created equal.

Not so - some are made of substances that can do nasty things to you (like jelly) and some are made of substances that can pick up and carry nasty things (TPE and any non-sterilizable plastics) and some you can do nasty things to yourself (try silicone lube on a silicone dildo - or rather, don't.)

But until a recent clean out of my sex toy box, I never realized what nasty things sex toys could do to each other.

Like the Sapphire Enhancer Ring by Cal Exotics, for example. One of my favorite cock rings, made of thermoplastic rubber, it was always kept within easy reach.

Except unfortunately, that easy reach was touching the Vac-U-Lok Realistic Dong Royale (in Europe, we call it the Vac-U-Lok Realistic Quarter Pounder.) This big, black rubber cock was also within easy reach (but we never use it without a condom, kids.)

The two didn't like each other; and this is what happened:

The Realistic Dong Royale literally ate the Sapphire Ring, reducing it to a squishy paste. What was even scarier was the the big, black rubber cock was unharmed (which neatly adds another layer of neurosis to Caucasian penis insecurity!)

But deeper into the toy box I delved, and more horrors I uncovered:

Our cute little clitoral Tongue Dinger, made of TPR similar to the Sapphire Enhancer, was also melted away by close proximity to my wife's Jack Rabbit Vibrator - made of the dreaded Jelly.

And before you accuse me of bringing all this upon myself, by way of having a very disorganized toy box, witness the final casualty - the Tommy Blade Sensafirm Penis. Despite being safely stored in its original blister case, out of direct sunlight, this impressive tower of cock turned albino white under our bed!

Instead of the rich, fleshy hues of when we first got our hands on it, Tommy Blade's cock now resembled the sort of thing hanging between the legs of that Albino monk from the Di Vinci Code.

Now, I'm particularly pale; my Anglo Scots heritage means that you can spot me from space when I take my shirt off on a sunny day. However, even my manhood - which Wifey has nicknamed 'moby' (as in, the Great White Whale) isn't quite this pallid. This is the sort of thing Bella, from Twilight, has to get her lips around every time Edward wants a blow job.

Suffice to say, the damaged toys were thrown away - and those that remained were carefully partitioned to avoid any further potential damage.