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History’s precedents to your favorite sex toys

June 18th, 2009 admin 2 comments

Most great innovations weren’t just spontaneously dreamed up out of the clear blue sky by a single Wizard of Oz genius. Hell, there had been patents on lightbulb designs for decades before Edison famously “invented” it – he just tweaked it to be more commercially viable. Some of the wonders of the modern world probably aren’t quite as modern as you think.

This fact applies to the stuff we use for auto-gratification, and about which we lie through our teeth when our significant others ask which gets us off more: the human or the machine? Some new ideas obviously never existed before a previous invention set the stage – no one would have thought up headphones before it was possible to record and play back sound. But we’ve always been equipped with our genitals, so sex paraphernalia has an awesomely long and rich history. Here’s a look back at some of the more notable ancestors of stuff you might have in a bedside drawer right now.

1.)Olive Oil lube

Olive oil is one of the darlings of modern chemists and nutritionists, since it’s one of those rare things that has glorious flavor, can be used in just about anything, and is packed to the gunnels with valuable nutrition. The scientific evidence is new, but our history of infatuation with the stuff is not. Olive oil was the first major product to make olive farming in the Fertile Crescent and Mediterranean a commercial success,  but those folks weren’t just dumping it on their bread when they’d go to their local Olive Garden down the street. They turned it into soaps, lamp fuel, and skin care products as well. Greek Athletes apparently rubbed it all over themselves, and there’s no way, just no way that all those dudes got all lubed up without one of them discovering that it gave him a way easier and less chafe-ey experience with the ol’ low five. I mean, what do you do when you’re covered head to toe in warm, oily lubricants?

From there , this intrepid sexual pioneer certainly must have put two and two together and found that lube not only enhanced the solo act, it eased the complaining of whichever wench into whom he was thrusting his gladius that day. There’s also some evidence that the Romans used olive oil as a spermicidal contraceptive, although the whole concept of bathing the penis in spermicide now and having it prevent conception 10 minutes later has never been that effective.

For those of you who haven’t already stepped away from the computer to go dump olive oil all over your junk, you might want to know that doctors urge a bit of caution before busting out the olive oil to impress your natural-living-enthusiast date. The jury’s still out on whether or not it’s safe for females to have olive oil shoved all up in them, and any oil-based lube tends to break down the latex in most condoms.

2.)Stone Age Dildo

Dildos have such a long and well-documented history, we’re considering doing an article about just them, but for the immediate purposes, we’ll just touch on the very oldest one known to us.

Stone age artifacts are often as puzzling for modern archeologists as a graphing calculator would be for cavemen. When all you’ve got is a rock, first you have to determine whether or not it was intentionally shaped by human hands, and if so, what it might have been used for. Usually the answer is to hit, cut, or scrape stuff. No one said the relationship early humans had with technology was very complex.

Sometimes, however, there’s a find for which there’s little doubt about human engineering at work, and the form usually makes it easy to discern the function. So take a gander at this shaped rock found at a cave site in Germany and see if you can figure out what it might have been shoved into 28,000 years ago.

“But wait!” your nearest skeptic is exclaiming. “That looks just like a handy rock baton! They could have just used it for thwacking unruly children, or knapping flints!”

First off, you never even heard of “knapping flints” 60 seconds ago. Secondly, look close at the tip. Someone scratched a penis head into it! Game, set, checkmate.

Now, we’ll concede that we lack any trace biological evidence to suggest that anyone actually applied it to its obvious function, but vaginal secretions aren’t exactly supposed to last 28 millennia. But even a novelty dildo (art) is still a dildo. There are plenty of modern dildos you’re not supposed to actually use, just keep it on your desk, or hang it on your mantle, or hand out to kids at Halloween.

3.)East Asian Beads

We’re saying “east asian” because it’s unclear where and when exactly they actually originated. Some Chinese texts hint at ben wa balls from around 500 to 800 AD, but history’s clearer about their use by medieval proto-geishas called “oiran” in Japan.

For anyone unfamiliar with the concept of ben wa or rin no tama balls, the idea is to have one or two hollow but strong-walled balls attached to a string, and each of these balls contains a smaller ball that can rattle around inside. When you shove ‘em up inside you and do a little booty shake, the smaller ball rattling around in the larger ball causes vibrations to make you feel all weak in the knees and such.

Medieval Asia didn’t need to wait around for plastics for vaginal/anal beads to be invented. Metal is often the material of choice for this species of sex balls for two reasons. First, heftier balls produce more profound vibrations when knocking around inside one of your holes. Secondly, metal is relatively non-porous and so it’s easier to clean off substances and microbes – anyone whose grumbled at always having to give their plastic or otherwise synthetic vibrator or dildo a rigorous clean after every use can appreciate the appeal of an easy-clean surface.

4.)Clockwork vibrator

The history of medicine is jam packed with tragicomedy about leeches and “humours” and all kinds of pseudoscientific witchcraft presented in an academic tone and setting. One of the phenomena lighter on the “tragi-“ and heavier on the “comedy” was the now-famous “female hysteria,” or else known as “The greatest disease ever.”

Inquisitive, supposedly objective-minded doctors of generally sexually reserved European and American polite societies were baffled at the number of female patients they would see who complained of symptoms like “heaviness in the abdomen,” sleeplessness, anxiety, irritability, vaginal lubrication, sexual fantasy and what the fuck? Fantasy was a medical symptom? “Being a teenager” must have been the worst plague they’d ever seen.

Honoring their commitment to medicine, the doctors found that things like horseback riding and bouncing around in swings tended to ease the tension, and so would prescribe such activities to particularly suffering ladies, as well as marrying “vigorous husbands.” Particularly severe cases had to be treated by manually inducing a “hysterical paroxysm” by massaging the patients genitals. Stumped doctors observed that it tended to provide only a temporary alleviation, and the patients would frequently need regular treatments. We’d like to think the 18th century version of House ordered many a risky exploratory surgery in his quest for answers.

The fact that the doctors failed to seize upon the gold mine of booty calls they’d stumbled accidentally into makes us tear our hair out. If it were us, we’d have set up an entire practice devoted to hysteria treatment and used our vast scientific and medical education to convince our patients it was necessary for us to be naked during the procedure. To the doctors of the time, however, the hysterical paroxysm was somewhat of a chore and so they cheered the development of a little handheld gadget to do it for them. The tremoussoir, invented by Frenchman Abbe St. Pierre, was a handheld clockwork gadget that was wound up by a key on one end so that when released, the opposite, tapering end would vibrate.

This streamlined the process for the doctors, but eventually consumers were able to get their hands on the little machines themselves, which saved the doctors the hassle. Satisfied with another medical crisis averted, 18th Century medicine confidently clapped the dust off its hands and turned its attention toward the next problem, without realizing they’d just ruined our chances for competing against lifeless machines for the sexual favor of women…forever.

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Aphrodisiacs we wouldn’t recommend for your next seduction

June 18th, 2009 admin 1 comment

Before humans had the ability to study their own body chemistry, medicine had a certain quality to it best described as “batshit.” Nowhere was this more the case than with the nebulous “science” of aphrodisiacs, in which potency seems to have a direct correlation with how mindblowingly crazy or gross it is. It’s hard to fathom just how some intrepid aphrodisiac pioneer managed to stumble upon the next miracle potion. In many cases, modern folks who swear by them present as evidence testimony from some tribesman who swore by them, when really the tribesman just wanted to see if he could really get some gullible tourist to rub a jellyfish all over his dong.

1.)Rhino Urine

Fuck the horn, that shit’s for losers and aphrodisiac n00bs. The really good stuff is found in steamy, dusty puddles on the plainlands of African and southern Asia. Forget that it’s potentially toxic animal waste, you’re in need!

Turns out there’s a firm belief among middle-aged Bengali men that that rhino piss is just the thing you need to put a spring in your step and make you smile like that obnoxious Enzyte guy whose teeth we want to break. In fact, it turns out that in pre-World War II days, there was a whole commodity trade in aphrodisiac rhino urine that sprung up between east Africa and Calcutta. We’re pretty sure that’s the real reason fascist Italy decided to invade Ethiopia, of all places. Those smooth and undeniably irresistible Italians were just trying to corner the market.

It’s anyone’s guess how this even started, but we’d like to think that a bunch of aphrodisiac hunters had cornered a rhino hoping the horn would act like Super Mario’s mushrooms for their junk. Thinking fast, the rhino said “Hold up, guys! Sure you can take the horn, but that’s just a one-time reward. I got something that’s even better, and it gives continuing returns for years!” He was then surprised to see these horny fuckers actually contemplating the offer, and in subtle, cold revenge for the rhino genocide of the past centuries – proceeded to con them into drinking his pee.

2.)Spanish Fly

This is one for which we can actually see how it could be easily confused for the genuine article. Oh, there’s a physical reaction, alright, but hit the brakes a second before you go pounding shots of it while pre-gaming for your next date.

The beetle Lytta vesicatoria, which ranges from Europe to North Africa and into Asia, shits out a toxic and irritating secretion called cantharidin as a defense mechanism when it gets scared. Turns out that cantharidin is just all kinds of bad for you, and 30 mg can be lethal. On its way through the body, it bullies around just about everything it touches, causing kidney and gastrointestinal damage. You’re really likely to be in trouble, however, when the cantharidin hits the urethra. Imagine having poison ivy on the inside of your genitals, and you get the idea of the world of itching and swelling in store for you.

In very, very mild doses, the itching might be reduced to a mere tingle and the mild, allergic swelling could be mistaken for an answer to lifelong prayers for a larger package. So it’s easy to see how an ancient hiker might have picked up one of these beetles as a trail snack and then been pleasantly surprised as it appeared to give him magic genitals. But it’s important to keep in mind that this shit’s poison. Commercial Spanish Fly, which has been banned in many of the countries where it used to be used in food, is produced by grinding a bunch of the beetles into powder, beetles who then get the last laugh as the foolish humans wreck the very organs they’re trying to stimulate on their toxic carcasses.

3.)Philippine Cobra

Google “Philippine cobra” and the first page is littered with words and phrases like “bite,” “venom,” and “first aid.” Now, when thinking of the list things you don’t want to be involved whatsoever with your important bits, “cobras” has to be near the top, probably just under “unreliable powertools.”

The Filipinos call it “ulupong,” which presumably means “The last guy who got bit by this thing wept and then shat out his liver” in Tagalog. You might have seen this guy from every Discovery Channel or Animal Planet countdown ever of Most Deadly Anything. Cobras in general are one of those things with which you probably shouldn’t fuck, and the ulupong just so happens to be the most god awful of the family. It favors a neurotoxic venom, which goes to work stopping all the automatic nerve signals your spoiled-rotten ass likes take for granted, things like heartbeat, breathing, and not having explosive diarrhea.

And yet, some folks in Southeast Asian and Polynesian cultures insist that behind all of nature’s standard “do not touch” signals (hissing, fangs, corpses of other guys who just tried to touch) lies a potion that will make you a god damn sexual Tyrannosaurus. This guy claims there’s a whole ritual about it, in which a live cobra (just to make it battier) is slashed and bled into a cup of hard liquor, which takes care of the fact that anyone present for this insanity probably needs a drink anyway. Sometimes the snake just gets stuffed into the bottle of booze first, which we have to imagine makes for some amusing mishaps in which a patron orders a bottle of Makers and is accidentally served the snake whiskey. Surprise!

4.)Japanese Blowfish

You’ve probably heard of this. In Japan, one of the more notorious delicacies is fugu, a particular species of blowfish which just so happens to join the above cobra on the list of animals for which the most important feature, in the eyes of every other animal, is neurotoxicity. This thing doesn’t inject you with it though, in a way it’s much more sinister. It’s only poisonous to things that eat it, so it serves up a nice dish of vengeance from beyond the grave to predators.

That doesn’t stop those wacky Japanese, who seem to take this clear sign from nature to “leave this fish alone” as a dare. It takes the experience and knife skills of a surgeon to cut away and serve just the edible parts of the fish, while leaving behind the parts one bite of which will precipitate a wonderful chain of events that culminates in paramedics storming your restaurant and shoving charcoal down your patron’s gullet. There’s a bit more on the line here than when you’re just trying to cut extraneous fat off your steak. Of course, the danger is most of the appeal, and also accounts for most of the insistence for the fugu’s aphrodisiac wonders.

Many adventurous eaters report a numbing sensation on the inside of their mouths, supposedly from the tiniest traces of the neurotoxin that found its way into the food. We’re unconvinced. You’d think numbing would be the opposite of the effect you want; an aphrodisiac should heighten senses. Still, it follows aphrodisiac logic perfectly. The more counter-intuitive or dangerous the substance, the more of a love god/goddess you’ll become. Why, a tribesman even told us the only thing more potent than poisonous blowfish is licking the barrel of a loaded cannon! It’s even phallic.

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Sex injuries that walk the line between tragedy and hilarity

June 18th, 2009 admin No comments

Sex injuries that walk the line between tragedy and hilarity

Ever finish an above-average round of horizontal tango to find you had a little rugburn on your arm? You’re proud of it, aren’t you? Hell yeah, you’re so rowdy and naughty that you and your partner were almost wounded – wounded, for chrissakes – during your wild, passionate abandon. You’re dangerous. You nod to yourself like you just nailed a game-winning three-pointer, and wear your little pink spot like the Red Badge of Motherfucking Courage. That’s right, world. You live (and boink) on the edge.

You have no idea. Here are a few…incidents that can occur, all of which have left us thinking maybe sworn celibates are the smart ones. If love is a battlefield, then here are some Purple Heart winners.

Penile Fracture

Yeah, you read that right. And guys, you know the first time as a child that you were conscious of your own emerging boner, you thought to yourself “What the hell is going on with my pee-hose? Jesus, I hope I don’t break it in half.”

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SNAP

This is the stuff of nightmares in the 7th Circle of Hell, and oh, it can happen. For the uninformed, the mechanism that produces the condition known in medical circles as “woodiness” are three sponge-like balloons that inflate with blood when the brain signals the local nerves that boobs have been detected. When in full-tilt sexing mode, these balloons act a bit like pressurized canisters filled with blood.

Sadly, they’re not quite hard enough to put up with getting rammed head-first against a solid surface. The most common occurrence of said ramming is usually when the penis suddenly falls out while the female is (vigorously) on top. Not that any of us here at the office know what that’s like. All the guys here are hung like thunder gods, and its physically impossible for any partner to able to push themselves up away from us far enough for the important bits to lose contact.

Apparently when folded in a manner unintended by nature, the lining of the spongy balloons can rupture, and some have reported hearing an audible pop when it does. Victims can only hope the pain makes them pass out before it makes them violently eject liquids and solids from every possible hole. An impressive amount of blood rushes out the rupture into the surrounding area, causing grotesque swelling and creating the most memorable bruising you will ever have. The only real solution to this tragedy is to open the sucker up and suture shut the rupture in the lining, as well as provide the surgeon with something fun to share with his golf buddies later.

Vaginal Pneumoperitoneum

Just in case you ladies were giggling at your boy toys at the thought of the previous one, it’s your turn now. Pneumoperitoneum is the term for a pocket of air or gas that somehow gets stuck in somewhere in your abdomen and can’t easily reach any of the tubing that would let it get come floating out one of the two ends of the digestive tract. It can cause severe abdominal pain and can sometimes even be fatal. On the upside “killed by a giant, trapped fart” in the obituary would probably get a few dark chuckles from twisted assholes like us. So you’d have that going for you.

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Picutred: murderous fart. We guess.

How is this remotely sexual? Well, although pneumoperitoneum is more commonly caused by perforated ulcers (holes in the stomach) or some kind of trauma, there have been cases in which someone managed to put their mouth up to a vagina and, for whatever reason – cough, sneeze, or straight up shits ‘n’ giggles – blew a big ol’ bubble up in that shit. Medicine, with its unique sense of humor about assigning terms to hilarious biological phenomena, came up with “oral-genital insufflation” for this one.

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Now you are a man, son.

Usually, it amounts merely to severe, gutwrenching pain for the patient every time she moves her abdominal muscles (which contract every time you sit, stand, twist, walk, just about everything) while doctors manage to coax the bubble out of her. Sometimes, however, they decide they need to give up on that, and cut her open to pop it like a balloon. It really gets problematic when the air manages to diffuse its way somehow into the bloodstream, producing the very tricky and occasionally fatal air embolism. If that term doesn’t sound familiar, you might know it better as “the bends” or Why the Fuck is My Blood Fizzing Like a Can of Soda Disease. If being vaginally inflated gets you off, maybe it’s time you look into a change of fetish. And whatever you do, don’t let yourself near your Jacuzzi, not even when it’s got that come hither look in its eye.

Inhalation of Foreign Objects

This one can’t possibly be that common, but we found it too hilarious to skip. We here are firm advocates of practicing safe sex, and regard the condom as one of the more important advancements in medicine, and well, human civilization in general. So important, in fact, that we’re having a hard time getting our heads around how it could be possible to lose track of one while doing the deed.

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Poof! Gone.

Now set aside the improbability of the magically vanishing condom for a second. You would also think that it would be hard to miss when something –anything – other than air or air-suspended particles goes shooting down your windpipe and into your lungs.

You’ve probably pieced together where this is going.

A woman eagerly providing head to some fine chap somehow managed to take the concept of “suction” to its extreme and suck the guy’s rubber right off. The reason we keep coming back to “how could this possibly go unnoticed” is that she developed severe cough and fever which persisted despite antibiotics and other treatments for six months. Either she didn’t know she’d managed to suck down a condom or –and we find this much more likely – she didn’t want to admit to it and was hoping the magic of internal medicine would somehow just make it dissolve or something.

Perplexed doctors finally stuck a camera down her lungs and noticed a weird, bag-like structure, which they pulled out, and presumably the woman than exclaimed suddenly “Ooooh, so that’s where that went!” Upon investigation, the doctors learned that, indeed, she hadn’t just been horking condoms through her nose. We’d like to point out that apparently “fellatio” is an accepted medical term. Somehow the standard doctor’s method of comforting embarrassed patients by telling them they’ve seen much, much weirder things probably didn’t apply to well to this one.

Home Appliance Accidents

We’d be remiss if we didn’t bring this up, because it so wonderfully combines two of the above phenomena: suction and swelling. Many of us here had honestly dismissed as myth the old story of a guy explaining to doctors that he had been walking around his house in the nude when suddenly, out of nowhere, his vacuum just up and ambushed his penis. But apparently, Murphy’s Law is not lost upon naked men and electrical appliances.

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I see you watching me. Over there.

We’d like to cede our further space to the medical professionals who wrote these gloriously worded accounts of man-on-vacuum encounters. Some things just can’t be improved by dick joke writers like us. Look to the bottom-right of the page under “Case Histories.” Keep in mind that this was the 50s, an age when vacuum cleaners were new and unfamiliar and apparently just dynamite in the sack. We’d like to call attention to a handful of things. First, “seeking erotic satisfaction” is going to be our phrase for “horny” from now on. Similarly “External meatus” is going to be our phrase for “penis,” and “introduced his external meatus into” is going to be our phrase for any sexual penetration. The 75 year old guy in Case 3 just claims he was just rolling with the punches when he fell into his vacuum cleaner. I mean as long as his dick was already up in there, who wouldn’t just turn on the machine and see what happened? Finally, how awesome is the doctor at the end who gives props to these brave vacuum fuckers by noting “the method of masturbation used by these patients was rather ingenious”?

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Six Reasons It Sucks To Be A Male Porn Star

June 18th, 2009 admin No comments

So you’re looking for work, and you think of all the things you’d like to do. Boning an endless cornucopia of receptive and fetching lady flesh quickly rises to the top of the list. I mean you’ve pleasured a chick or two in your day, right? (Right?) Why not get paid for it?

Well, hold on there, champ. Turns out being the proud owner of one of those anonymous dongs getting fondled on camera isn’t entirely fun and games, it’s a job. And like almost every job (excluding internet wise-assery), it mostly sucks. So raise a beer and tip your hat to the guys who man up and service those ladies so you can sit at home and service yourself. Here are just a few reasons why male pornstars are the ones getting the shaft.

1.)The Pressure

Let’s give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that a crowd of people all scrutinizing your raging boner and your swordsmanship is a typical Thursday night for you, so you’re cool with it. The twist for a pornstar is that crowd has a lot more riding on his performance than shits ‘n’ giggles. They’ve contracted stage crew, put up the set, got the cameras and lighting in place, lots of people and equipment in one place. Your penis has just become Atlas, strenuously carrying on its knotted shoulders the expectations and very livelihoods of the entire production staff. You might think to yourself that you’re a stallion who’s ready to go any time, anywhere, baby, but have you ever really had to put that conceit to the test? Might not come as easy as you think. In the meantime, postponing production until tomorrow because you’re not feeling it today burns time and money.

Think your co-star’s skanktacular? Imagine someone hot. Fluke early misfire that you swear has never, never happened before? Pick up your weapon, soldier. Can’t get yourself to stand at attention? One of the corrective measures is an injection. Don’t make us spell out where.

2.)The Maintenance

Your performance is less about what you do and more about how long you can keep doing it. It’s not worth it for the crew to get all set up and shoot a 30 second video. The director’s going to want a catalogue of different angles and positions and you’re going to have to be able to stand and deliver. This sort of stamina is something you’ll most likely have to work up yourself. It’s not just boner endurance, either, although that’s a major part of it. Think about all the times during missionary that you’ve let yourself flop down on top of your girl because your arms were too fatigued from propping you up. That gym membership is coming out of your pocket.

Another thing to consider is how much the porn-watching public has grown accustomed to facials. Have you ever noticed just how much comes out? Like so many things in porn, the sheer volume of airborne man goo exists at the extremes of what’s possible in nature. Unless you have the goofiest X-men mutation ever, you’re probably going to have to take some sort of extra measures to boost production. That means avoiding high fat foods, caffeine, and alcohol – you know, the good stuff. There are numerous supplements recommended all over the internet (zinc and horny toad weed appear most frequently) as well as pills of dubious legitimacy that profess to make you into a firehose. Point is, your best bet is some good ol’ fashioned healthy living, which for most folks involves some level of sacrifice.

3.)The Few

Like with athletes and musicians, the path to stardom is littered with the shattered hopes and dreams of those who didn’t make it. How many male pornstars can you name? Five? There is always, always room for more smokin’ hot females, but since the guy is rarely the subject of the shot, it barely matters at all who he is – the director is more likely to cast a reliable veteran who they know brings the aforementioned goods than take a chance on a newbie.

According to one B-list porn actor’s documentary/guide for male porndom, there are only about 300 guys living this dream, and only about 25 of them actually make a living with it. Even if you have ideal equipment, it’s not a sure thing. Even those lucky, blessed bastards like Ron Jeremy had to live the life of starving artists for awhile.

4.)The Money

Another porn professional notes that male porn stars get $50 to $1,500 per shoot, no royalties. If that $1,500 looks tempting, that will likely go to those five dudes that were actually famous enough for you to name. You’d mostly likely weigh in on the $50 side of the spectrum, and you probably won’t get getting it more than a few times a month. If you sneer at that waiter who plans to hit it big on Broadway, remember your chances – like your genitals – are probably slimmer.

5.)The Partner

Several different porn veterans mention that the deck is stacked heavily against a dude auditioning by himself. The most common and easiest way to get any work at all is to ride the coattails of some up-and-coming porn starlet. She’s the one that people at home will tune in to watch, not you. But if you can convince her to insist that she’ll only perform if it’s with you, suddenly you matter – as an extension of her.

Congratulations, you’re now a pornstar’s bitch and you owe almost any success you have in your career directly to her. That’s fine when you start out and she’s sweet and naïve, but what happens when it all goes to her head and the Behind the Music drama starts to reach fever pitch? Her spiteful insistence that she’ll only consent to boning by Peter North anymore isn’t just a breakup, it means you’re probably back down to the bottom rung again.

6.)The Merchandise

Making a replica of your equipment is something anyone can do from the comfort of his own home nowadays, for gifts, or party favors, or as a festive item to bring to the office Christmas Party. You could even make them out of chocolate and bring to your next potluck. It’s also something that just comes with the territory of being a male pornstar. LeBron James has his replica jerseys, Dick Rambone: his dildos.

Not all of these things garner glowing critical reception. Imagine if yours was put out to market and rejected as fundamentally flawed (too thick/thin? too veiny?). That’s part of your legacy, forever ruined. Of course, you could always blame it on the manufacturer. But maybe you ought to see what else is listed on Monster.com.

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