Beyond 2000

I had to have the Beyond 2000 vibrator. I am greedy like a magpie, and it had the shiniest stuff. The candy-pink jelly monument stood 7 inches tall on its solid black base. Sparkling silver bands led down to an enticing spiral of glittering pearl-sized beads. It had contours. It had ridges. It had a charging rhino. It whispered in my ear and promised me super-sized pleasure. This was the power tool for a pop princess wannabe. Bling-bling! I took it home.

I checked out the dual-speed variable controls. The left control button started the rhino buzzing and bouncing, tiny tusks flipping in a high-speed vibrating frenzy. Turn the right controls up to 1 and the silvery beads whirl, the pink shaft shimmies; at 5 it gyrates; at 10 it's Christina Aguilera. It practically throbbed. Very Dirrty. The B2k was going off, and this was only the dry run. This seemed like a lot to take in all by myself, so I enlisted Boyfriend help.

"What?"

"I said, can you help me with this thing?"

"It's kind of loud, eh?" It was very loud, but so pretty it had to be fun! The dog started scratching on the back door to get out. We closed our bedroom door and pressed on.

It was obvious what part of the B2k went on the inside, and I was sure, at least for me, that the charging rhino had just better stay on the outside. Boyfriend turned both controls to one. The rhino, even on its lowest speed, buzzed too strong for my taste. I went from tickled to numb in six seconds. Ouch! Even when off, the thing was really in the way. The spinning beads were too high up, or maybe they were too low? I didn't seem to fit the Beyond 2000. Maybe I was only a '90s kind of girl. Boyfriend, never discouraged in a situation like this, turned me up to gyrate, then to Lady Marmalade. I could hear the dog whimpering.

"Maybe we should put him out?"

"What?"

I tried. I really wanted to feel the way it looked, all pink and shiny and dazzling, but with the silver beads spinning one way, contoured pinkness headed the other way, and a rhino charging up the middle, I just felt like an unbalanced wash load. rrRRRr, rrRRRr, rrRRRr, rrRRRr. I smiled at the silliness of it all, and then I started to laugh. My boyfriend smiled too. "Is that right? Is it working?"

"What?"

Call me Colette ...

What better gift for a lady writer than a lovely vibrator-equipped pen? When I first saw it, I couldn't wait to experiment. I imagined heading into the washroom after a steamy interview with a hot newsmaker, or enjoying a solo mile-high-club excursion when I had lots of writing to do on a long flight. When I decided to try it out first at home before tucking it into my briefcase as one of my professional accessories, I was quickly moaning -- in discomfort. Ouch! The little vibrator sits on top of the pen, about a half-inch in diameter. To get it to work you press on it gently, or so I thought. But what felt gentle to my thumb felt like torture to my clit and its environs. The lovely sensitivity of that region is not well served by a vibrator that is activated by pressure, and the vibrating plastic top is just too hard and small, even without the pressure, to get the job done. (I also had some hygiene questions about how you'd keep such an implement clean and fresh, but having only used it once, that wasn't really a problem.) My daughter found it, had no clue what it was supposed to be used for, just thought it was neat that it had a vibrating top -- and put it in her backpack to entertain her friends. I hope they never find out what it was made for -- it could turn them against masturbation for a lifetime!

The Wahl 2-Speed All Body Massager

At first glance, there's nothing sexy about the Wahl 2-speed All Body Massager. It's packed in clear, no-nonsense plastic. We're talking straight Fruit of the Loom, with a photo in the corner of three women -- one white, one black, one middle aged -- all jogging. More like an ad for hemorrhoid medication than a promise of sexual satisfaction, unless they're jogging to a suburban swingers' party or something.

It's white -- washing-machine white -- and with all the attachments it looks more like a mini-handheld blender than anything you'd want to hide in shame. You could probably leave it out in your kitchen utensil drawer with the eggbeaters and no one would be the wiser.

But man, plug that baby in and set it to work and Ka-zing. Fire your boyfriend and unplug your phone. Back to basics: two speeds, wow and more wow. Wally (yes, I nicknamed mine) plugs in so you don't even need to worry about getting new batteries. There are four or five attachments and, if you're so inclined, you probably could use it on your back, or shoulders for the stress relief promised by the picture. But you won't be so inclined, trust me.

And better yet -- Wally runs quiet, so you don't have to.

The Rabbit Habit

My anticipation for this one was pretty high. The extra-all-purpose purple gelatin bunny-ear and rotating bead masterpiece of "Sex and the City" fame, the one that inspired an intervention because once Charlotte got her, um, hands on it she stopped leaving her house.

Visually the thing is a stunner: purple gel, realistic in design, but rendered cute and innocuous by a smiley face on the tip and the bunny ears on the attachment at the base. How turned on you are by the visuals depends on how you much you ever had the hots for Thumper. Since I've had a thing for rabbits ever since I first read "Watership Down," I thought I'd be OK. The problem is that you need a degree in electrical engineering to figure out the controls: There are two separate levers, one of which controls the vibrating bunny (two light for my tastes) and the other that controls the rotating beads. If you speed one up, the other slows down, and it would take a few years of in-flight training school to calibrate the appropriate ratios and get the levers balanced appropriately. The necessary calculations and ratios certainly don't lend themselves to wild abandon.

It looks awfully cute on your nightstand, though. Altogether: Not fast enough, or powerful enough to warrant the hype. It's as practical as Carrie's Manolo Blahniks, and just as uncomfortable.

The Anal Sex Video

The summary on the back of the video for "Nina Hartley's Guide to Anal Sex" promises "Your anus will always listen to your heart, not your mind." I'd never really thought of it that way before, and I do appreciate the degree of heart shown in the hour-long video's climactic five-person gangbang. The stars are all passionless, bored, friendly and, yes, given the sensitivity of the regions involved, very, very careful. There is nothing sexy about the video whatsoever, though the opening instructional lecture (with demo) provided by Nina Hartley and Anna Malle (astonishingly unmoved in her doctor's chair) does provide lots of helpful tidbits that the brain-dead among us might not have thought of. For example, trim your nails. And if your partner squeals in pain and screams "STOP!" then, well, do so. In case you hadn't noticed, there are a lot of nerve endings down there.

Given the general unattractiveness of the participants and the stilted presentation, it's all the more disturbing when you find yourself getting turned on despite yourself. I watched it with three women friends, and after all the jokes were said and done, we realized we were shifting around uncomfortably, not looking into each other's eyes, and making frequent trips to the bathroom. And I have to admit I learned a few things from the video. What they were is none of your business. But altogether, definitely worth a viewing.

Sizzling Body Candy

Repeat after me.

Kiss it, lick it, dip it, suck it.

There, you've had about as much fun as this product is going to offer you, just by reading the box it came in. The candy itself is tasty -- but it's also a dead ringer for Pop Rocks. I tried it on and that pleasant sensation of sizzling on the tongue is a lot less pleasant in more sensitive areas. Plus, you can freeze up when you remember all those urban legends of Pop rocks exploding in people's stomachs. An acquired taste, I suppose.

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