Many of you have asked me what it’s like reviewing and writing about sex toys while living at home with my Mom. The most common questions usually go something like this:
“Isn’t it awkward trying these things when other people are home?!”
“You must have SO many toys. Where do you keep them all?!”
The answers are actually pretty straightforward.
A: I NEVER, EVER test out sex toys when other people are home. Not only would it feel totally creepy, I wouldn’t be able to relax and would be paranoid that someone might interrupt me. I only use the toys when no one is home and when I know they are far, far away. My Mom travels a lot so I try and schedule my reviewing duties for when she isn’t here. However, sometimes it takes me longer to review things if I’m not able to get the required alone time to try the product.
B: Although it would seem I have a bazillion sex toys, the number is actually closer to two dozen (one for every hour of the day! Just kidding.) I keep them all in two separate cloth storage boxes that I stash under my bed. When I lived in Toronto I kept them in one of the drawers of my storage bed.
Last week, to prepare for Abby’s visit I was doing a mass cleaning of my bedroom. To make sure she was comfortable, I decided to give her my bed while I slept on the pullout couch. However, as I was cleaning I remembered the 24 vibrators and dildos stashed under my bed. Although Abby knows what I do, there’s something really creepy about forcing a guest to sleep in such close proximity to two dozen dildos, so I moved the boxes to another area of the house.
However, as I was getting ready to move the boxes, I noticed something. Remember that time I reviewed the very life-like Nick Hawk Dildo – wasn’t that hilarious? (“Err, you mean disturbing Simone?! I’m still having nightmares about that thing!”) Well, as I was rearranging a couple of the toys, I picked up the Nick Hawk dildo to dust it off and I saw that it had changed colour. There were now a couple of purple-ish blue spots spreading out along the shaft. Gross.
I have no idea what happened. I clean my toys profusely with antibacterial toy cleaner after each use, so my only guess is that it somehow rubbed up against something in the toy box – what, I’m not sure since most of the toys in that box are pink – or, that the dye in one of it’s very prominent veins burst somehow. Either way, AHHHHHH! SHUDDER.
(I’d take a photo of it for you guys but seriously, no one needs to see that.)
Repulsed and still in shock, I wrapped it up into a bag and vowed to deal with it as soon as Abby had gone back to Vegas.
WHERE DO YOU EVEN DISPOSE OF A GIANT, LIFE LIKE, MODEL PENIS? These are the kind of questions that haunt me on a daily basis (see: “sex blogger problems”). In the meantime, that weird, rubbery smell I noticed when I initially reviewed the dildo, had begun to permeate my whole toy box. Um, can anyone say EWW?
I recently read the book Girl Walks into a Bar . . .: Comedy Calamities, Dating Disasters, and a Midlife Miracle
by comedian & SNL alum, Rachel Dratch. FYI, I love Dratch and the book is a fun read if you love female comedians like Tina Fey and Amy Poehler. Anyway, there’s a chapter called “With All Due Respect to Edgar Allan Poe” in which Dratch tells the story of a red vibrator she received as gift from an ex, that she’d been meaning to throw since the break-up. When contractors arrive to renovate her bedroom and she remembers the dildo still stashed away in her top drawer, she begins to have Poe-like visions of it vibrating within the top drawer of her dresser (“Hark! Louder! Louder! It is the buzzing of the Telltale Dildo!“)
You guys, I have my own Telltale Dildo situation on my hands. Although I know it doesn’t vibrate, I keep on imagining it in the toy box, pulsating as it mutates into a rainbow of different colours. When something that once turned you on starts to resemble sour cream that’s been left in the fridge too long, it’s very unsettling. I knew it was time to send this dildo up to the big old sex toy collection in the sky.
Despite it’s short service, Joe the Intern insisted we give the dildo a hero’s burial, which at Skinny Dip headquarters means wrapping it in pink tulle and chucking it into a dumpster. Joe the Intern saluted the dildo while this played heroically in the background.
As a side note, although the Nick Hawk dildo claims it’s free of phthalates, the dildo’s very chemical, intense rubbery smell has left me feeling uneasy. I have decided to contact Dildology – a non profit organization that tests sex toys and analyzes their chemical composition to see whether they are in fact body-safe. Although they won’t test previously used toys for obvious reasons (I would hate to work in that mail room), I’m hoping that by contacting them they’ll at least put the Nick Hawk dildo on their radar for future testing.
RIP Telltale Dildo. I hope that Nick Hawk’s real life junk is not as terrifying as you are.
