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Ass kissing and electrostimulation

Dear Sasha, For what it’s worth, “You have turned a complex, erogenous and essential body part into a Doris Day song” [“Bleaching your butthole,” March 8], is by far one of the funniest lines I’ve ever read in print. Thank you for making me laugh out loud, and thank you in advance for the certain chuckling over the next few days.

On the subject of asses, it seems I’m kissing yours right now. While I’m at it, kudos for being willing to help out that fellow by going on a date with him, hopefully pointing out whatever bothersome characteristics he may have in order to guide him into being more successful with women [“It’s a date!” March 1]. I hope it was interesting for both of you.


Dear Corinne, Thank you for your kinds words. This also gives me an opportunity to give a shout out to Sam, who has not reached me yet, so perhaps he missed the issue that his letter ran in. Sam, be in touch. I will be in Montreal this week with my show Les Demimondes at Edgy Women (edgywomen.ca) and may have time for a date with you. Yes, I just took the opportunity to shamelessly plug my production using a letter that was little more than a piece of fan mail. I’ve been here almost 18 years, folks. Every once in a while things are going to be about me.

And speaking of me and hot dates …

Several weeks ago I was sent a sex toy in the mail called the Intensity. I had my suspicions. Anything with so many bells, whistles and promises has got to have its flaws. It was sitting beside my bed in its box, patiently waiting for me to find the time to purchase the four AAA batteries required to bring it to life.

The Intensity makes many of the usual claims, including, according to the inexplicably arch video on the website intensitynow.com, a tighter vagina and better orgasms. Of all the problems I confront in my intimate life, orgasms have never been one of them, even when I was on 40 hits of Celexa. I credit that skill to the Magic Wand, an instrument that could dig the little death from a corpse. Still, I was willing to give the Intensity, with its self-inflating pump to create a larger shaft, its unique clitoral stimulator and its two metal plates to conduct electricity to the vaginal canal, a shot.

I readied some spectacular porn (on asaakira.com) and prepared for an afternoon of research-based self-pollution. Here’s how the Intensity works:

You apply electrode gel to the metal plates (I know, your sphincter is already clamping in fear) and then a small bit of water-based lube to the end of the shaft. You insert it into your vagina and then pump so that the shaft enlarges to suit your internal needs. Then you control the vibration and electrocution with a panel of buttons located at the base of the shaft.

Oh my fuck. Honestly, worst date I’ve had with a toy since the Tongue debacle of 1998. The model I received must have been faulty. At least I’m hoping it was. It turned on and off at will, and the electrical current went from nugatory to Frankenstein’s monster in under three seconds. It was terrifying, and I say this as someone who can handle some pretty intense internal stimulation. I gave it another whirl the next day with the same results. Me, lying back, core muscles trembling with anxiety, inserting the shaft, fiddling with the defective panel, increasing the electrical current, then yanking it out like it was a hot curling iron. Please spend the $250 the makers of the Intensity are asking for this torture device with caution. Fans of erotic electrostimulation may feel differently, but even still, there are far better products to achieve this sensation: peselectro.com. ■