It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 73

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word "culture". Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws. Or people I work with. Or anyone who lives within 10 miles of me. Or my OB-GYN.


Today's topic: The Factory is Closing


I'm a little bit excited and slightly anxious tonight, because tomorrow is THE BIG DAY.  I am a very fertile Myrtle.  Particularly when I've been drinking, because my eggs get all belligerent and start droppin' it like it's hot, in the club, which happens to be my uterus.  Not one of my children was planned, and all were likely conceived after a night out with Current Husband.  They were all welcomed and loved (note to future Family Therapist), but not particularly planned.  Because that's how I roll, y'all.


For about six years or so, My High School Friend Paige The OB-GYN has been telling me to get things tied up down there with some Mirena or Essure or duct tape.  She's the one who would always get the phone calls that inevitably start with, "Um, Paige, I was out last month and got really drunk, and I'm on antibiotics and I've been scraping lead paint in the basement...." and she would interrupt and say, "You're pregnant again, aren't you."  When we had our trip in Austin, Texas, talk turned once again to Oops babies and sex, and once again, I was told to get on it already.  This time, I did.


I've taken my two horse pills for the night, and tomorrow morning at 9:30 a.m. I'm going in for the Essure procedure.  This is where an actual medical professional jams metal coils in your tubes, and then scar tissue grows in a controlled fashion around said coils, and closes them shut tight and baby-free.  Am I worried about an unknown allergy to nickel?  A possible accidental perforation of my fallopean tubes and emergency surgery?  No.  What am I worried about?  How my hoo-ha appears looking north from my knees.  Because I can't have my doctor walking out of the room and muttering to himself, "That is One. Fugly. Pussy."  It's good to know I have my priorities in order, no?  Maybe it's time to weigh the pros and cons.


PROS
I can be my skanky self again without fear
It's quick and easy and hormone free
My insurance covers it
I have prescriptions for Xanax and Codeine
I can make CH feel guilty about my sacrifice
My family will be like this Essure family on the website:
 

Because I'm coming home from the procedure and painting my entire house white and buying a new white wardrobe for everyone to represent my renewed purity, and we can all have a pillow fight and laugh and yell, "Mommy can have all the sex she wants now!!"


CONS
Slight, but unlikely, chance of nickel allergy or death
People have to see my junk.  Hopefully no more than two people.
According to this photo on the Essure website, my uterus will become an iPod - hopefully an iPod Touch, if you get my drift. 

What will be on YOUR "Julie's Vagina Playlist"?

Actually, I'm moving the uPod on the PRO list.  After three kids I bet that thing can hold a million songs and the last three seasons of Mad Men.


Wish me luck, Wifers!  Happy Whoreticulture Friday and have a great weekend!

It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 54

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word "culture". Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws. Or people I work with. Or neighbors who are raising feral cats. Or the ghost of Liberace.


Today's topic: The Vajacial

Somehow January has become Vagina Month.  I'm not sure why.  Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I am so effing cold that I can't feel mine anymore.  Tonight in Iowa it is -20 with windchill, and since I'm wearing about 20 layers of clothing, talking about a Vajacial is about as close as I'm going to get to one.  So let's get it on.

First, let me give a shout-out to the sisters of Chi Omega, because I get more Whoreticulture Friday topics from them than anyone.  I guess in between the videos on how to set a table and and hand-holding songs of sisterhood, we were all just a bunch of dirty hos, and honestly, I love them a little more for it.  Thanks today go to Stacey in Minneapolis, whose vagina is presumably colder than mine. Go eff a moose, darling.

A Vajacial is a facial for your smelly gal.  They were "invented" by Stript Wax Bar in San Francisco, where it seems that someone has spent a LOT of time trying to perfect the puss.  Here is some press on the topic, I hope you can read it:

Catharine Zeta-Jones is saying,

"I can't move, I'll crack my pussy masque."

I doubt you can read it, so here is the highlighted part - "Stript Wax Bar in San Francisco offers the 50 minute - we couldn't make this up if we tried - Vajacial, a facial-like service with a papaya enzyme peel, a mask, and a Vitamin C lightening cream."

Stript offers this service for $60, and you must have a Brazilian first.  Hmm. So for a total of $120, plus tip, someone can stare at my vagina, slather it in creams, masques, and wax, rip the hairs out of the follicle, and tweeze out ingrown hairs.  I am going to pay someone to torment and humiliate me.  How about if I give myself a paper cut on my tongue and fart out loud in the office for free?  Better yet, why don't I have Current Husband do all of this tonight and I will get an orgasm out of the deal, and no one has to know about it?  (Except that I just blogged about it. Is nothing sacred?  No. No it isn't.)Because hand to God, if someone is gettin' jiggy with my jay-jay for $120 plus tip, I had better see the clouds part and hear the angels sing.

Some in the press have referred to this vaginal facial as a "peach smoothie".  Sounds cute, until you see an image of a peach smoothie.

This peach smoothie looks like someone

needs to spend a little more

"me" time in the shower.

Because in my world, peach smoothies

should be more...peach.

CH asked what I was blogging about tonight, because he is always looking for the "Can we practice that at home" angle on Whoreticulture Friday.

CH:  "What's today's topic?"

translation: Will I be getting laid?

ME:  "Vajacials.  They are vagina facials."

CH:  "What does that mean?"

translation:  Is there any girl-on-girl action?

ME:  "Someone puts creams and masques on the vagina and generally diddles around with it to make it look like it's 18 again."

CH:  "I am totally going back to school for that.  I've found my purpose."

Which is a lovely thought for men across America, but really, wouldn't you get a little pussied-out?  You know someone would come lumbering in there with some nasty scent,  at the tail end of their period, or with some piercing disaster, and then you would be off vagina for weeks.  Months, even.  And I don't know about the rest of you, but if someone was tweezing individual ingrown hairs out of my chia pet, I would probably pee myself a little bit from the pain.  I've borne three children the ugly way, so I pee a little over smaller issues than tweezing short and curlies.

Before Stript Wax gets ahold of your kitten.

I have one other question about the Vajacial - what's up with the Vitamin C lightening cream?  Why do I want to go all Michael Jackson down there?  Do I really want to alter the pigmentation of my dealio?  I know there is anal bleach, and I guess I sort of "get" that, but is there really a problem with marbled vagina skin?  Is it patchy?  I guess I just don't spend enough time gazing at mine.  Perhaps instead of lighter COLOR, the lightening cream is like thunderbolt - you know, LIGHTENING cream, Ka-POW, all over your vagina!  And then I am writing my check for $60, no questions asked.


There's CH, volunteering from the other room. 


So do tell, Wifers - are you up for a Vajacial?  There is no judgement at Whoreticulture Friday.  Would it be worth your $60?  And what would your desired results be?  And why do I want lightening cream?  I will wait for your wisdom.


Happy Whoreticulture Friday, and have a great weekend!

It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 53

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word "culture". Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws. Or people I work with. Or neighbors who are raising feral cats. Or the ghost of Liberace.




Preface:
Last week, I had this REALLY funny e-mail conversation with one of my co-workers.  I e-mailed him that he should watch Flight of the Conchords, and he told me to watch something, and then I asked if he listened to The Black Keys and he said, "The Black what?  Hmm.  No.  But I have a picture of me with these cool guys I happened to be hanging out with in a bar in Chicago in 2006" and it was a picture of him with the two guys from The Black Keys.  Then I sent him the link to The Bloggess, (for which he STILL hasn't thanked me), and then he sent me a link to this funny blog called Salami Tsunami. 

And then my ego took over the reasonable, thinking, logical side of my brain, and I did it.  The thing I swore I wouldn't do.

"So, Snarky Co-Worker, if you click on this link, you are promising to never, ever pass it along or share it with anyone else at work or I will key your car."  And I sent him a link to this blog.  Oh, the narcissism!  Is it not enough that there are 245 followers here?  Is there really room for any more!  Particularly when I start slacking off on posting three times a week!?  And when will people learn not to use work e-mail to pass on questionable material!?!

Co-worker laughs, on e-mail, so it was like "ha ha, LOL, :o or some electronic chortle, and says, Of course I won't pass it on! and then he promptly does a REPLY ALL on our e-mail exchange to send me and my boss some artwork we needed for a box for the hooking supplies.  OH. SHIT.

I promptly speed walk to his office, poke him hard in the chest, and scream whisper, "THANKS ALOT, JIM BOB MCGEE, YOU SENT THAT TO THE BOSS!" and he turns five shades of green and says, "No I didn't" and turns to his computer, pulls up the e-mail, and starts repeating, "fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck".  Then I feel bad because he is getting a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and I say, "Oh, it's okay, I'm sure he loves vagina cupcakes" and laugh nervously, even though we all KNOW they were not vaginas.


Today's topic: An Open Letter to my Boss


Dear Sir,

I understand that through an unlikely string of events there is a chance you may have been given a link to my blog.  On Whoreticulture Friday.  If you have already read the blog, then I am sure you already realize that it is being written not by me, but by the ghost of Marliyn Monroe, who we all know was on barbituates and can't be held responsible for what she writes.

I ask you, who looks like the more likely candidate to be the author of a blog series called "Whoreticulture Friday":

 Mr. President-singing Playboy covergirl sexpot, OR

Respectable marketer of hooking supplies?

That's what I thought.

The topic of last week's post was Pussy Posting.  Clearly, this was not related to genitals in any way.  That would be crass, even for Marilyn.

Such a cute little pussy.  Nice shag, too.

If the ghost of Marilyn was trying to offend you, she wouldn't post pictures of kittens, she would post pictures of George the Superpet sexually molesting my mother at Christmas to the horror of the children because she had the misfortune of sitting in his chair.

Down boy!  Bad dog!

Perhaps, Sir, you were puzzled by the pictures of the colorful cupcakes.

(Photo credit to the person whose name I can't track down who will punch you in the vagina if you dare re-post the photo of her vagina cupcakes without permission.)

Obviously, Marilyn posted this photo because I am planning a Georgia O'Keefe-themed party for Youngest Daughter's birthday in April.  Georgia O'Keefe cupcakes!  Yummy and enlightening!  Let's culture up, second graders!

By Georgia O'Keefe. 

Not a colorful vagina.  Art.

I see it in chocolate with rainbow fondant.

By Georgia O'Keefe. 

Titled "Through the Eyes of an OBGYN on Peyote".



By Georgia O'Keefe. 

Titled "Sorry, We Are Fresh Out of Epidurals".

And so, Gentle Employer, I think you can see that it was all a big misunderstanding.  A post on that crazy and mysterious Internet, posted by some random woman who is actually not even alive and on barbituates, about kittens and art.  I think we have all learned something here.

Never send links to your occasionally porn-themed blog to anyone you will see on a daily basis or with links to your paycheck, particularly male marketing gurus who hang out with The Black Keys.  Even if it WAS an accident.



It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 52

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word "culture". Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws. Or people I work with. Or neighbors who are raising feral cats. Or the ghost of Liberace.


Today's topic: Pussy Posting

Before I get started, there is an agenda item today:
Todd's Taxidermied Squirrel Party has been CHANGED.  ALREADY.
It is now Tuesday, January 18, from 7:30-9:30 p.m., because a couple of people from my book club e-mailed me and said ,"WHAT THE HELL!?! THAT'S THE NIGHT OF BOOK CLUB!" and I said, "Sheesh, I forgot, I didn't know you miss me when I'm gone!" and they said "We don't, we want to go to Todd's party."

Hand to God, true story.  Just wait until I host the next Book Club, bitches, where I will pick "The Love Slave" and serve only soy crisps and carrot juice.

"In the hands of Karim al Malina, master of the erotic arts, kidnapped Celtic beauty Regan was to be schooled in carnal pleasure--and made a fit consort for a king. But pupil and teacher broke the cardinal rule of their relationship--and fell in love."

(Let me tell you a little embarrassing secret - my boss at the time lent me this book, soon after she lent me her electric breast pump, I actually read it, and I was forcing CH to have sex with me after about page 40.  Creepy book fact.) 

SO.  DID ANYONE NOTICE THE PICTURE SOMEONE POSTED OF THEIR VAGINA ON MY BLOG THE OTHER DAY?

I like to check the blog every so often and read the comments, which I love - I am a total comment whore, by the way - and I glance at the sidebar, and there, in the little pictures of the followers, there is a little shih tzu.  No....it's an Italian guy's head.  No...it is someone's VAGINA.  So I click on this follower, and I see the postings on the page.  They are things like "Korean sluts are hot and wet for you" and "College pussy for the taking".  I'm thinking, "Why is this person following me?  Do they think they will get customers for their clearly illegal international porn ring?"

Then I got mad.  I make it a policy not to pick on random people on the internet, but if you are posting a pussy shot as your icon, you are literally begging people to say something.  If you want to spread your wings on my blog page, at least make it interesting.  I don't want to see some random va-jay-jay.  Make it look like a cupcake, or dye it purple and shave it in the Prince sign or make it look like a standard poodle.  But if you are just posting an out-and-out pussy pic, you are wasting my time, and that of my readers.  I know for a fact that Grande Mocha and Muffintopmommy aren't putting up with that crap for a second.

TIP:  My readers now find regular vaginas uninteresting.

Case in point.  Remember these?
Click here for The Ghost of Whoreticulture Friday past.

 So, gentle pussy, I didn't block you because you posted a crotch shot.  I blocked you because you bored me.  I ask you, Where is the Vajazzaling?  Where are the dreadlocks?  Where is Waldo?  Because if a normal, bushy vagina with slightly uplifted thighs is all you've got for me, you need to go back to the stirrups my friend.

It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 26

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word "culture". Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws.

Today's topic: What Not To Do During Sex.

First of all, I am giddy with anticipation to break my restraining order on Jen Lancaster tomorrow night.  I just called Borders on Michigan Ave, and they said they are expecting over 600 people tomorrow night, which might severely cut down on my time to persuade her to let me share a dog bed with Maisy, her pit bull.  SO, I am a little preoccupied and not in a whorish state of mind.  I keep thinking ...whores ...whores... whoreticulture.... what should I wear to see Jen.... whores... will they see a flask if I bring it.... whores.... how many copies of the book will she sign... blog... must write the blog... what did my friend's son write in school about sex?

BINGO.  Houston, we have a topic.

About five years ago, I owned a retail store in a small, yet funky, town.  A good friend of mine worked there for me, and one day she called and said I had to come back to the store right away.  I got over there, and she was all verklempt because the middle school had called and said she needed to come to the principal's office because her son was in trouble.  About an hour later, she came back, and she was equally bemused and pissed.  She said she drove over to the school thinking, "What did he do?  Bring a flare gun to school?  Make a bad joke?  Cheat on a test?" and when she got to the office he was sitting there, bright red and obviously uncomfortable.  The principal said, "You need to tell your mom what you did".  Her son muttered something.  The principal said, "SHE CAN'T HEAR YOU."  My friend said "WHAT!  I need to know what is going on here!" and her son said, 
"I made a list of things you shouldn't do during sex."

My friend pointed out to the principal that when you spend so much time talking about sex in health class, and the teacher dresses in costumes like a labia and testicles, and t-shirts are given to the kids that say "Abstinence!", it is likely the kids are going to talk about it, and perhaps make some lists.  I wanted to repost her son's list here, but I couldn't remember what was on the list, so I broke my "no phone calls after 9 p.m." rule to get the 411.  

Her 13-year-old daughter answered the phone, and said, "Hold on, I'll go get her."  She has the cordless phone, and I can hear her walking.  I'm assuming she is taking the phone to the deck, where my friend is presumably having a glass of wine.  Instead, I hear knocking.  OH CRAP!  NOT THE BEDROOM DOOR!  "Um, I'll just call your mom later, I was just going to say hi, it's no big deal...." and her daughter says very sweetly, "Oh it's okay, I hear her coming" and I thought "YOU ARE NEVER SUPPOSED TO HEAR THAT!" and then the door is opening and her mom is on the phone.

ME:  "You were doing it, weren't you."
HER:  "Um, not quite yet."
ME:  "Are you naked?"
HER:  "Under my robe."
ME:  "What was on the list of What Not To Do During Sex?"
HER:  "I can't remember."
ME:  "Well don't do any of them.  As you were, slutty mom."
HER:  "Okay, goodbye."

SO, since I don't have the actual list, I am forced to make my own.  
TOP 10 THINGS YOU 
SHOULDN'T DO DURING SEX:
1. Text - I heard on the radio yesterday that people are texting during sex.  Are you kidding me?  What is wrong with you people?  Is the person you're texting your partner?  "Litl 2 th left" - "btr?" - "no, 2 far" - "how @ now?" - "WTF" - "Sry, Tht u mnt bckdr"

2. Fart - I'm a pretty gassy person by nature, sometimes I have to fight kind of hard not to let that happen.  It's a miracle I've had three children, no?

3. Stare - I had a friend whose partner would stare at her meaningfully the entire time.  She got to the point where she thought she had something in her nose, or he was definitely going to kill her.  It didn't work out.

4.  Get Pregnant -  This is a personal one.  Also, not good if your husband has a vasectomy.  I'm just saying.

5.  Talk About Your Mom -  This isn't anything we do, but I would imagine that if you are in the middle of sex and one of you says, "Hey, your mom called, are we going there for Easter?" that it would be hard to continue.

6.  Say "What smells?" 

7.  Take advice from magazines -  Cosmopolitan, the porn mag with fashion shoots, had this advice for a reader who just lost her virginity and wanted to know what she should be doing:  

"Most important is to relax enjoy and have fun and talk to each other.
Later introduce whipped cream, champagne, handcuffs, blindfolds, toys and kinky clothes !! And YouPorn can help!!"

Could you imagine her partner, plucking the cherry and then showing up to play Mickey Rourke in "9 1/2 weeks" the next time?  "Hey, I know I was a virgin last week, but have you been in YouPorn?  I can't wait for my first STD!!"

8.  Quick Makeover -  Another magazine, Marie Claire, had some recommendations of their own as to what not to do during sex:

"Put lipstick on your nipples, bronzer in your décolletage, concealer on your bum, or mascara on your landing strip."

Really?  They need to tell people this?  Who the F*#@ puts lipstick on their nipples, unless you are playing "Clown Porn Night at the Clinique Counter"?  And the visual I'm getting of someone hunched over in the bathroom combing their soul patch with their mascara wand is totally disturbing.  At the very least, their partner would look at themselves afterward and say, "I never heard about THIS at the free clinic."

9.  Gymnastics - When we moved away from our old town, some people there had a very lovely surprise going away party for us.  There was a DJ and a keg, so I spun a few tunes, sang a few songs, CH did a little breakdancing, and we got quite crockered up.  We felt young, limber, and in love.  I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but at some point I decided to move quickly, and I ended up falling off the side of the bed.  Except that the bed was about 9 inches from the wall, and I ended up getting stuck.  That's right, feet in the air wedged in between the bed and the wall.  I'll give you a minute.  CH laughed for a long time, and when my legs finally went numb he helped a sister out and gave me a hand.  I'm fairly certain we were both sleeping about 50 seconds later.  Good times, good times.

10.  Pee - Thanks to my friend Trish, who just arrived, for this one.  I asked her what you shouldn't do during sex, and she immediately said, "Pee".  It sounded good to me.  Remember to do those Kegels girls, because not everyone is into Golden Showers.

Happy Whoreticulture Friday, have a great weekend!

It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 25, UPDATED

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word "culture". Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws.

Today's topic: Cupcake porn.

It's coming...it's coming...it's coming...pant pant pant ...
but I am awaiting permission to use a couple of photos.  Of vagina cupcakes.  Because if you use pics of vagina cupcakes without permission, particularly ones made with rainbow fondant, someone is going to show up at your door and punch you in the uterus.  But they are well worth it people, and may possibly put you off of eating cupcakes for a spell.  AND, I am so excited, Graham the Australian Dishwasher Installer is coming over at 11 to install my new dishwasher!  I have been without one for FIVE FRIGGING MONTHS and I am dying over here to fire it up!  Photos of Graham, if he lets me, on the blog Monday.  Whoreticulture Friday?  Later today.  On Friday.

9:37 a.m. 
I've spent the morning cleaning my house so Graham the Australian dishwasher installer doesn't think I'm raising my children in filth, which, essentially, I am.  But does he need to know that?  No.  He is installing my dishwasher, and I need him to think I'm at the top of my game.  I hope he lets me take pictures of him.

I haven't heard from the one vagina cupcake girl yet, but I think I have a solution, so let's carry on with this thing.   There is a seedy underground in the bakery world, and I'm finding it focuses on one main area - cupcake porn.  Lest you think I am trolling the internet for bakery snuff films, let me explain how I found genitalia pastries.  Current Husband was making some breakfast for himself, and said, "Hey, come look at this bagel, it looks like a vagina!" and I'm thinking "Is he coming on to me?  Because I haven't had my first cup of coffee" and he says, "No really, look at it" and I did and yes, it did slightly resemble a vagina:

 CH promptly slathered it with cream cheese and wolfed it down.

I, on the other hand, passed on breakfast.  Not that I have any problem with bagels, and I can totally see how women can get really sick of long johns and all of their baggage and move on to bagels, but I just wasn't hungry anymore.

This incident left me thinking:

1. Is CH like the kid in The Sixth Sense, but instead of seeing dead people, he sees vaginas?  "Look at that tire, it looks like a vagina."  "Look at that coffee mug, vagina." "Duct tape - vagina. "
2. Are there lots of food items that look like vaginas?  Oh yes.  Yes there are.

  I Googled "Vagina Cupcakes", 

and I hit the motherload.

The best ones, far and away, are the rainbow vagina cupcakes.  They are bright and cheerful and have personalities.  The person who made these cupcakes has apparently had her photo of them stolen a million times, because she will essentially stab you in the Fallopians if you use it, so I will send you to her instead of posting the picture.  They are gorgeous, check them out by clicking here:

Platter of Vagina Cupcakes, coming up!

Aren't they pretty?  It's like Rainbow Brite.  Wouldn't OB-GYN's love it if more vaginas looked like this?  Wouldn't it make their jobs more exciting?  The question is, would you eat one?  And what flavor would these be?  Because I would lean toward Red Velvet, just on authenticity.  Or Strawberry.  It would depend on the time of the month.  But never, ever chocolate, because that would seem less like sexy and more like a medical issue.

Think Rainbow Brite is the only variety of Vagina Cupcake available?  Think again!  Here is a snatch of what's available at another blog, at www.craftster.org, member name "squidknit":

 How about those little ball-bearing clitorises?  

And this crafty baker said she did varying 

degrees of bush to represent all vaginas.

Cute, but again...could I really open wide and take a huge bite out of this?  And the sprinkles?  Could I have those in my mouth?  In the spirit of equality, I will say that I would also have a very hard time taking a bite out of THIS:

 Holy shit, what did you do to that delicious cake!?!?

 And really?  Do those blue veins indicate some kind of STD?

At least a circulatory problem.

These photos come to us courtesy of www.bachelorettesuperstore.com, where they have all kinds of naughty items described lovingly in this pretty cursive font.  Here is a somewhat nicer penis cake photo from their site:

Would I let a penis with googly eyes near my Precious Lady?

If I ate the one on the right, would I be a Purple Penis eater?  Are these The Penises of Sesame Street? Big Bird, Oscar the Grouch, Cookie Monster, Bert and Ernie?  This is what I think about when I see stuff like this.  (I know, it's sick, but I can't turn it off.)  I think what this photo really illustrates is that it doesn't matter how much you doll it up, dicks are just ugly, and not that delicious.  From what I've heard.  My favorite penis cupcake still goes to this big winner:

Clowns with erections.  It just doesn't get creepier than that.

I want to know a couple of things - 

1. Have you ever made porno pastries?
2. Could you eat a genital cupcake, or would you succumb to the "ish" factor? 

Happy Whoreticulture Friday!  Have a great weekend!  I'm going to have a carrot.  NO!  A banana.  NO!  A donut...Aw, crap, I'll just have another cup of coffee.

 

 

It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 17

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word culture. Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws.

Today's topic: Meat.  It's not just for eating anymore.

I'm going to start Whoreticulture Friday with an apology, never a good idea.  Because you should never apologize for awesomeness.  And if I were awesome, I wouldn't apologize.  So I am sorry.

This week has been crazier than a stage mom on meth.  I was an assistant on the talent show at my kids' elementary school the past two years, and this year I am in charge.  Oh. So. Effing.  Scary.  (Almost as scary as writing the F word in my blog, which I occasionally do, but I fear you people and the power of judgmental comments.)  Tonight was the dress rehearsal, and while it went well, oh so much can go wrong.  Tumbling act could fly off of the stage.  Shredding guitar kids during finale song to "School of Rock" theme song could tear their knees up on the old splintery stage.  Child could freeze up, begin to cry, and talk in two decades about how this was the worst night of their young life.  So I am having a quick beer, writing the blog, and going to bed for the certain nightmares of ruined childhoods.

I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that my heart is not completely in a whorish state of mind.  Sorry, Current Husband, it's Cinemax or women's Olympic ice skating for you tonight.  Speaking of CH, I love meat.

Sometimes when I get on the blog, I notice the ads on the sidebar.  When I wrote about Brazilians, I saw ads for hair removal.  When I wrote about mocking teddy bears, Build-A-Bear showed up.  For some reason last week, an ad for illegal Mexican wives appeared, which honestly I don't even know why they need to advertise, because those seem to sell themselves.  I would love to have an illegal Mexican wife right now, because frankly, I am tired, and there are dishes in the sink and a lonely man in my room.  Two days ago, this ad slogan appeared on my blog:

"It's like filet mignon for the price of a butt steak."

I found myself wondering if this is how CH describes me to his friends.  Because truly, I am.  And if I were to name myself after a piece of meat, it would have to be the butt steak.  It seems so obvious.  You may say, "But Julie, you're selling yourself short.  You are so filet mignon and you don't even know it."  Let me explain:

Pronunciation:  fee-lay mee-NYOH  Plural:  filets mignons  Notes:   These are cut from the tenderloin, and they're the most tender steaks you can buy, though not the most flavorful.  But filet mignons are total high maintenance bitches, and they don't put out.  Sometimes the French call them putain or salope, and the French really know their meat, if you know what I mean.   

 A boneless sirloin steak is sometimes called a rump steak = butt steak.  Sirloin steaks are usually grilled or broiled.  Don't overcook them or they'll lose much of their flavor.  In other words, "I'm easy like a Sunday mornin', but don't piss me off or I won't be so fun anymore."

This reminds me of the famous quote by Paul Newman to Playboy magazine about the longevity of his marriage to Joanne Woodward, "Why go out for hamburger when you've got steak at home?"  And while many women look at that quote and say, "Awwww!", Joanne Woodward was pissed off.  She was all "I'm an Oscar-winner, MF'er, not your piece of meat!" and Paul Newman didn't have steak for a very long time.  It was at this time that he created "Newman's Own" salad dressings with his own two hands.

In other meat news, at my book club I found out that at high school basketball games, when you want to insult the other team, you chant "Hot Juicy Burgers", which is supposed to imply a vagina, so you are calling the other team pussies.  I would like to take this time to point out that the other moms thought they were calling the other team "Vaginas", and I connected the dots for them that they were actually being called "Pussies", but I still don't see how "Hot Juicy Burgers" is more insulting than flat out chanting "Pussies" or "Va-Jay-Jay" or making cat noises.  Most of the moms in my book club are Catholics, so they're the drunks and I'm the shocking token Methodist.  They mix the drinks, I explain the porn.

What have we learned?

1. Julie volunteering for school events ruins childhoods.
2. Illegal Mexican wife is going on my birthday list.
3. Butt steaks are more fun than filets.  Unless they are bacon-wrapped filets.  Because bacon trumps everything. 
4. Newman's Own dressing might be able to impregnate you.
5. Kids yelling "Hot Juicy Burgers" does not mean they work for the Beef Council.

Happy Whoreticulture Friday!  Have a great weekend!

It's Whoreticulture Friday! Issue 14

Whoreticulture: The industry and science of whores and whore-related topics. Whoreticulturists work and conduct research in the disciplines of OB-GYNery, Brazilian waxers and shavers, adultery, personal hygiene mavens and easy women. The word is composite, from two words, whore, from Greek meaning "harlot" or "dear", and the word culture. Like NPR's Science Friday, Whoreticulture Friday exists to educate and spark discussion on the science of Whorology. Whoreticulture Friday is not for children. Or squeamish people. Or Mother-In-Laws.

Today's topic:  Leaky Pipes

One quick non-whorish topic - my book club read "The Help" last month, and I just finished it at 1 a.m.  I wouldn't probably have read it if my book club hadn't picked it because of The Hype, but I'm really glad I did.  An amazing book, and a first novel, no less.  Well done, Kathryn Stockett!


So, on to other woman topics.  Have you ever just flat out wet your pants?  I'm talking about after you were five years old.  And not during one of those misguided "Dime Draws" night at the bars during college.  I'm talking about "After The Baby Comes And Your Girl Parts Are Never The Same".  My name is Julie.  I'm a wife and mother of three.  And I wet my pants.

(Okay, Internet Porn-Trolling Freaks, you got your free visual.  I am not going to pee on you.  Move back to the Dark Side of the Internet.)

I am not alone.  I have one college friend who said she was washing dishes at the sink one day in her kitchen, and out of nowhere she did what she called "an Old School piss myself moment".  Another friend told me she was at a college football game waiting in line for the Port-O-Johns and just couldn't take it anymore...she stood in humiliation as she wet her pants in line.  Awkward!  Another one was at a stadium concert and really had to go - there were 10,000 women in line for the bathroom and she knew she wasn't going to make it, so she did what she had to do.  She squatted in the bushes outside of Soldier Field in front of about 5,000 people instead of walking around in her own urine-soaked clothing.  She picked the lesser of two evils.  What do we all have in common?  We are vaginal birthers.

I don't really flat-out wet my pants.  It's just a little bit.  Enough for me to know, but the world at large to remain ignorant.  It happens occasionally when I laugh or cough too hard, or when I've hit a golf club into the ground (have I mentioned what an excellent golfer I am?  "We're hitting balls, not sod, Julie.")  I thought this was my post-labor life until I met my high school OB-GYN friend for a night in Chicago when she was at a Coochie Conference (not the actual name) and she re-introduced me to the Kegel.

By the way, you can get cool stuff at a Coochie Conference.  All of the materials have uteruses (uteri?) and fallopian tubes and ovaries all over them.  I am sure there are pens and buttons and Post-Its with vaginas all over them.  Hook me up, OB-GYN friend!  (Another friend whose husband is a doctor gave me a Viagra pen, which YD accidentally took to school and the teacher sent back, and a Cialis pen that was bent in half, and when you click it, the end (shaped like a penis, of course) would rise up.  It is awesomeness squared.)

Anyway, back to the Kegel.  They are your friend, and they cure a multitude of ails.  Here is the fast definition from The Mayo Clinic:

"Kegel (KAY-gul or KEY-gul) exercises strengthen the pelvic floor muscles, which support the uterus, bladder and bowel. If you do Kegel exercises regularly and keep your pelvic floor muscles toned, you may reduce your risk of incontinence and similar problems as you get older. Kegel exercises can also help you control urinary incontinence."

Here is a picture of your pelvic floor muscles:

 

OKAY, now that the remaining men are gone... 

I actually wrote an informational article on Kegels not too long ago, and here is what OBGYN friend and her PT said about them:

"A proper Kegel can be done easily and without detection.  While you are sitting or lying down, try to contract the muscles you would use to stop urinating or to hold gas.  You should feel your pelvic muscles tightening or closing, including those around your urethra and your anus. You should be able to do this without tightening your buttocks or squeezing your legs together.  If your lower stomach muscles tighten or pull in, that’s correct. It’s very important that you are able to actually breathe while keeping your pelvic floor muscles up and in."

(She said, "Anus".  Heh-heh.)

Okay ladies, let's all do one together.  Tighten.  Hold.  And release.  Excellent.  Still not convinced?  There are six good reasons to do them:

1. Better sex.
2. Less 'leaking'.
3. Less bathroom time.
4. Less back pain.
5. A flatter stomach.
6. Your uterus won't fall out.

Because your uterus.  Can.  Fall out.  OBGYN Girl (Hey!  She's a superhero!) does LOTS of vag overhauls, because that pesky uterus is sneaking around those weakened birthing muscles and ...Peek-A-Boo!  Your uterus is getting a look at the world outside.

"PARTS ON THE GROUND!  PARTS ON THE GROUND!  LOOKIN' LIKE A  FOOL WIT YO PARTS ON THE GROUND!"

 Hopefully, you are now scared shitless about your parts dropping out of you like candy out of a broken PEZ dispenser, so let's do another Kegel.  Tighten.  Hold.  And release.   
You just participated in a group Kegel!  This can be your naughty secret.  Do one in church.  At your parent-teacher conferences.  On the phone with the cable guy.   During sex...but then it won't be a secret anymore.  You should actually try to do three sessions of 10-15 per day.  That's a lot of private vaginal action, you naughty monkey!

Happy Whoreticulture Friday!  Have a terrific weekend!  I have a date tonight with CH, we are kid-free!!!  Whoo-hooo!  If you are a writer, please visit my friend Anissa's blog, Anissa Off The Record, which is covering some great writer topics this month.  She is RocknRolla, so if you like it, click that Follow button and get on with that novel already!