Banter

Ramblings, usually about sex toys, sometimes about my gaping vagina, sometimes about pornstars ruining our daughters, sometimes about horrific blowjob advice. Notable subcategories include Disingenuous Assholes and Toybox Reports.

Together, we form one fully functional human

Together, we form one fully functional human

Sex toy temporary tattoos and the lengths we go through to photograph them.
Photo by Kate Sinclaire.

7 sex bloggers were standing outside a glass blowing studio. We’d been waiting for an hour and there was no sign of the studio owners, who’d previously agreed to a private glass dildo making session. It was clear that we’d have to reschedule with them, but how? None of us wanted to pick up the phone.

Finally, Girly Juice volunteered to call the studio the next day. The rest of us sighed with relief.

Girly Juice thought it was funny that we kept calling her Girly Juice. . . . read the rest

Becoming a real writer

Becoming a real writer

I always wanted to be a writer. I wrote e.e. cummings quotes on the inside of my closet and on the rubber of my shoes; I spent my high school nights getting high on raspberry mochas and writing bad poetry. I amassed several awards and accolades when I was younger — one time I even attended an award show in New York City — but nothing meant more to me than this Golden Author Award bestowed upon me by my fifth grade teacher. While others received frivolous awards for being class clowns, I got a swanky pen — and this. It was proof: I was destined to be a writer. . . . read the rest

How I know squirting is real (and also not pee)

How I know squirting is real (and also not pee)

So I was interviewed for a piece about female ejaculation/squirting for Fusion recently. The article finally went live, and lo and behold, I’m not mentioned at all because some new bullshit study came out that had to trump everything. Also, they needed to make room for all those animated GIFs.

I’m no scientist and I’m not in the business of picking apart studies, but I will say that its findings contradict several other studies which have previously shown that ejaculate contains zero or low levels of urea and creatinine. Its findings also go against several thousand million1 vagina-owners, including myself, who have reported that the stuff they ejaculate does not look, smell, or taste like pee. . . . read the rest

15 things I learned buying a house as a sex blogger

15 things I learned buying a house as a sex blogger

Most of my summer was spent in the throes of buying a house, an experience that was completely new to me. As a person who earns most of their income through nefarious and elusive internet means, as well as a person who masturbates frequently and more peculiarly than most, I had some… unique considerations as a home buyer.

My sex blogging played an interesting role not only in income verification and loan approval, but also in house hunting and logistically moving my 400+ sex toys safely from point A to point B. Here’s what I learned along the way. . . . read the rest

An abridged guide to decoding horseshit articles about the G-spot's existence

An abridged guide to decoding horseshit articles about the G-spot's existence

[What happens when the media misrepresents squirting? Similar rage.]

Less than a month ago we were attacked by headlines screaming that the G-spot doesn’t exist, and here we are again, with yet another news source “reporting” (I use that word quite loosely) on yet another “study” “proving” that the G-spot is a “myth” and EVERYONE CALM DOWN AND TOUCH YOUR CLITORIS.

It’s not the first, and it will never be the last, but it’s the one that broke me.

My soul has been cracking, little by little, each time this happens. Like that time a sex educator drew a question mark on an anatomy chart in place of a G-spot. . . . read the rest

Of houses and stone eggs

Of houses and stone eggs

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. . . . read the rest

The girl I call Aerie

The girl I call Aerie

She greets me at the airport with a bouquet of hand-drawn sex toys. Eleven toys, all of them my favorites, with green pipe cleaner stems. On the romance scale, this may surpass the CD that my boyfriend made for one of our anniversaries which included a Tegan & Sara cover and 5 minutes of our cat purring into a microphone.

– – –

Aerie lives in a swanky condo on the third level. It has sparkling wooden floors, kitchen appliances that beep at you if you don’t do their bidding, and best of all, air conditioning. We make delicious coffee in the morning with a hand grinder and a french press. . . . read the rest

I got back-ups of my favorite vibrator and life is perfect

I got back-ups of my favorite vibrator and life is perfect

[But what about the Mona Wave, you ask? It’s a half-assed imposter.]

I don’t know if you’ve heard: I love my LELO Mona 2. So much that I yell things like “THE MONA IS WHAT GOD WANTS TO BE WHEN HE GROWS UP” when I’m drunk. So much that I have nightmares about LELO changing it. So much that I rush to comfort it when it falls off my nightstand.

“Obsessed” may be a word that describes how I feel about that vibrator. The Mona is the only sex toy I take on trips. I force shops to add it to their inventory. . . read the rest

Postcards from the Peanut Gallery: Mustang

Postcards from the Peanut Gallery: Mustang

I knew I was in for something good because the email began, “I feel like only you can understand the breathtaking sense of wonder and accomplishment I’m feeling.”

Unsurprisingly, the email was about squirting.

Despite already owning and loving the G-spot god that is the Pure Wand, the letter writer experienced her first ever ejaculation with the unassuming Vixen Creations Mustang. See, I knew it would make a good beginner’s G-spotter!

Aside from having the best screen name on earth, That Virgin Who Can’t Drive is also very adept at describing sensation. As it turns out, the Mustang pairs wonderfully with the Leaf Vitality vibrator…

Okay, so, I’m still relatively new to toys and your blog has been indispensable in helping me to spend my money wisely. . . . read the rest

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