Making the social media rounds once again is Monica Bonvicini’s 2003 art installation, “Don’t Miss A Sec,” a public toilet created of one-way mirrors that enables the user to continue to watch people on the street while they relieve themselves. The concept behind the piece is driven by the fear of missing out, an idea which, though always relevant, is even more applicable ten years later given our fast-paced, perma-connected existences. It’s all very interesting, of course, though to be honest our main interest is a little more low-brow.
Bill Gates just isn’t satisfied with the progress that’s been made in the condom department, so he’s offering $100,000 to anyone that can come up with a more satisfying way to glove the love. The primary drawback, he agrees, is that condoms are less pleasurable than bareback sex, which makes their use inconsistent. Do you have what it takes to design the next generation of condoms, save lives and improve sex for all? Click.
What makes the Revel Body so special? It’s the vibe — and by that, I’m not talking about the spherical design, but the actual vibrating portion of the piece. “We decided to innovate on vibration motor technology when we observed that all of the existing battery-powered vibrators use the same vibrating motors and that these motors operate in a very small fraction of the range that people can feel,” the creators write. Ignoring the preferred motor of the sex toy industry, the team focused on the resonating technology that power sonic toothbrushes.
Though pop psych would have us believe that all men would love to have a woman jump all over him saying she wants his cock right now, this isn’t always the case. The moment the person approaching lets go of generalizations (whether they are related to gender, race, age, etc.), that’s the moment the approach becomes “dignified.” Dignity, after all, is not about how you dress or how you speak, but rather that you see other people as human beings — individual human beings who have their own opinions, ideas, and desires (which may or may not include you in a sexual or even platonic sense).
Having spent all of March crisscrossing the U.S. giving out free toys from their vibrator line, Trojan decided to take it up a notch, heading out west for tax day. Parked outside various key locations in Los Angeles and San Francisco, their Pleasure Cart-pushers handed out sex toys to every decent, tax-paying citizen who crossed their path. “It’s a stimulus package they will never forget,” said Bruce Weiss, Trojan’s vice president of marketing. It sure is.
Researchers tackled the question of whether a bigger penis can make a man more attractive to a woman. The answer, it turns out, yes — but only to an extent. According to the study, women give equal importance to height and body shape. Basically, a big penis is an advantage, but not having a big one isn’t the end of the world — so long as a man is tall and has a good shoulder-to-hip ratio. For shorter, unfit men, a bigger penis did little to increase their appeal.
The best part of knowing Dave Levine is the access. Specifically, access to information regarding what people want in the bedroom. A few days ago, I chased him down and badgered him with questions about what people were buying at his toy emporium, Sextoy.com. I wasn’t surprised to see a Rabbit among the top sellers, given its iconic status, but I wasn’t expecting the American Whopper to be number one. The Whopper is a 6.5-inch dildo. A very realistic looking dildo.
Well, if anyone ever wondered why scientists hate to speak to people in the media, now we know for sure. Yesterday, Bloomberg ran a piece about pubic lice titled “Brazilian Bikini Waxes Make Crab Lice Endangered Species” that might have been brilliant (because: pubes!) except it wasn’t. Not even a little bit. In fact, the authors of the article never get around to corroborating this claim.
The bachelor party has turned the strip club into a requirement. Some embrace it as a good reason as any to let lose, but a percentage seem to enter with shame, embarrassment, resentment, irritation, and — the worst — that breed of “understanding” that is closer to pity than anything a guy might have picked up in a gender studies class at some point during their undergrad years.