About nine years ago, I met a guy on a personals site right around New Years. He ended up inviting me to his New Year’s party, I ended up going, and I ended up staying. His room was big, wide, and sparse, and so was the bed in it.  A few metal band posters dotted the broad expanses of walls, and his bed had a lot of mismatched pillows. I was expecting he’d want to have sex, and I was alright with that, with protection in my purse at the ready. I was single and in between any real prospects, so a fling sounded like just the thing to kick off the new year with. We were absent, however, the lightning-charged franticness that usually accompanies pre-sex..instead there was a soft, comfortable feel of old friends that had been-there-done-that and had no real need to revisit. And so it was, with no real talking, we ended up stripping down to our underthings, crawling into bed together, and holding one another like he was getting deployed in the morning. Never before or since has a man held me through the night like that – an embrace born of absolutely nothing but wanting to give and receive comfort and companionship.

Perhaps unique but unremarkable as it’s own event, it actually became one that repeated throughout the months afterward, now and again. I’d call, he would pull up to my house in his beat-up Skylark and honk twice, and we’d go back to his place. We’d sometimes watch a Terminator movie with his friends before trudging upstairs with peaceful hearts, knowing we wouldn’t sleep without companionship tonight. His roommates elbowed and smirked when we were down in the living room, driven by social norms make the usual good-natured jokes, but we never bothered to correct them…we were literally sleeping together, and it was enough that we knew. It was a hard time in my life, a lonely time, and an unsure time…but I’d close my eyes and think about that wide bed in the wide, quiet room, and my nerves would settle.

I heard, years later, he was dating and infatuated with a girl named Summer, so told by his joking, jostling roommates. He was never mine, but I felt a little sadness, knowing settling into those mismatched pillows alongside him was no longer a possibility. Still, of all the things I felt when I’d heard he moved on after we drifted apart, the most powerful was gratitude. He gave me peace without expectation, love without lust, and most of all, he gave me sanctuary.

Also, the internet is not, and never will be, anonymous. The very nature of the world wide web is its interconnectedness; the reason we can pull so much relevant information up so quickly is BECAUSE of those lines, those strings that draw a digital highway between A and B. It may be a little more trouble to find some people than others, and you might not be able to do certain searches unless you are a law enforcement officer, but you’d better believe that if someone wants to find you badly enough or for the right reasons, they can. You’re not safe, you’re not anonymous, and you shouldn’t put anything publically out there you wouldn’t be okay writing on your T-shirt.

Once you’ve got those two down, this last one’s important – don’t say something in a preservable digital format if you wouldn’t say it to their face, with figures of authority within earshot. Logs can be saved, screenshots can be snapped, ISPs can be subpoenaed in extreme cases. This goes doubly for threats of physical violence, and triply for threats that call out where and when they will occur.  I tangled with an unfortunately misguided person this morning who felt he was protected from retribution – by his incomprehensible grammar, his X-box live, or his general obliviousness I don’t know – but he said a few things that constituted a threat to an industry person of note I happen to know.  This was unacceptable, not only for Sinnamon, but for the sake of all the performers out there…by performing, you are only agreeing to show your body to those that purchase your videos, pictures, or subscriptions – you are NOT agreeing or expected to endure harrassment, unwanted advances, or physical threats. Ever.

If this is happening to you on twitter, performer or not, don’t stand for it. People like the harassing tweeter who are not nipped in the proverbial bud will only get more vocal…and it may escalate to something worse and much more real if left unchecked.

XKCD comic about internet arguments

1.) The Sydney Starlet Dildo from DownunderToys – This pretty faux phallus was made especially with the scalloped roof of the Sydney Opera House in mind. A fitting tribute for this fun Aussie toymaker.  It vibrates!

2.) The Island Explorer Butt Plug from Whipspider Rubberworks – Truly one of a kind, this incredibly unique butt plug is based on the iconic Easter Island heads, made in soft silicone.

3.) The Hottie Xtra from Happy Valley Silicone – This dildo might not look big in the picture, but in person it could go head-to-head with a soda can.  It’s 2.25 in diameter (almost 7″ around!!) It vibrates, too.

4.) The Tex Butt Plug from Tantus – Easily one of the largest butt plugs (not dildos, mind you. I’ve seen bigger dildos.) I’ve ever seen in my life, the Tex is a whopping 3.25″ in diameter, and not for the faint of heart. Or butt.

-TC

• I wrote California Exotics a week ago at every contact point I have for them in an attempt to get to the bottom of what “Japanese Medical Grade Silicone” is, as compared to “regular” medical grade silicone here in the US. No word from the Cali camp about what this stuff actually is. Considering they respond to their “sexperts” within hours (if that), it seems rather curious they’re so mum about clearing the air about what Japanese medical grade silicone is.

• Sadly, it appears Jollies Pleasure Toys is folding, according to a facebook message from the founder. Their lovely toys and designs (not the least of which is the innovative Mr. Man Dildo so loved by many) will be sorely missed in an industry that thrives on talent. A response from the founder seems to indicate they may still stay in business! Furthermore, there is a very interesting question about how we feel about silicone hitachi caps in general, and MALE silicone hitachi caps in particular. Up until this point, the only male “massaging wand” attachment of any type that I know about is the Miracle Massager Accessory For Him from Cali, and that’s just a TPR tube of sorts. Could there be caps designed with prostate in mind? It would be a nice touch! Their website, however, has been taken down. I’ll keep you posted on anything definitive that I hear.
  

• Whipspider Rubberworks was murmuring about new things to come at the R.I. Fetish Flea, and they may or may not involve more tentacles. We anxiously await! I’ve received confirmation from Whipspider Rubberworks that they do have another tentacle dildo in the works, tentatively hitting the proverbial “waters” before summertime. While specific details are still under wraps, we can only hope that it, too, will glow in the dark as we indulge our deepest cthulu-lust fetishes.

Like most well-heeled yuppie couples, ToyBoy and I have the requisite pets to ensure that no shelf of valuables in our entire apartment is safe. They are like training wheels for human children, as I very frequently find myself rushing into rooms yelling “Leave that alone!” or “Don’t eat that!”…perhaps more than I anticipated I would, prior to quadriped companionship. Whether it’s chasing the rabbit out of her baffling obsession with the cat’s litter box, or chasing the cats away from their baffling obsession with walking across my keyboard (doubly so if I’m healing an instance in WoW, triply so if they’ve just used aforementioned litterbox), they keep us on our toes.

My question is this – what do you other pet owners out there do about sex? I mean, the rabbit is indifferent to everything except a banana existing anywhere in the house (she would kill a grown man for one) but the cats…oh, the cats. They raise up a caterwauling, matrix-jump off our door, or scratch incessantly at the doorknob while I’m doing god-knows-what in there to ToyBoy, and it’s a real pain having to stash not only the clown suit, but ALSO mop up the extra maple syrup just to open the door to shoo them off.

Do you bribe yours? Mine will sometimes begrudgingly accept an offer of gushy food, but more often than not they are far more interested in ensuring mommy never gets laid in peace. Any tips or tricks are most welcome, please leave a comment below!

Me, with Toyboy, leafing through a Chinese New Year pamphlet:  Ha! You’re a cock.

Toyboy, who knows I was born in ‘82: Yeah, well – you’re a bitch.

-T.C.

• I’ve written California Exotics at every contact point I have for them in an attempt to get to the bottom of what “Japanese Medical Grade Silicone” is, as compared to “regular” medical grade silicone here in the US. I’ll keep you posted on what response they give me.
• Sadly, it appears Jollies Pleasure Toys is folding, according to a facebook message from the founder. Their lovely toys and designs (not the least of which is the innovative Mr. Man Dildo so loved by many) will be sorely missed in an industry that thrives on talent.
• Whipspider Rubberworks was murmuring about new things to come at the R.I. Fetish Flea, and they may or may not involve more tentacles. We anxiously await!

1.) The Ophoria Glo Dildo – this Japanese Medical Grade silicone dildo previously made an appearance on my Weird Sex Toys Of The Week series. The inside is hollow, and plugged with a cap, the idea being that a skinny glowstick (think the kinds they make bracelets out of at birthday parties) is inserted into the inner chamber to “glow” through the opaque material. Guess this is an ideal choice for the modern Glomosexual…unfortunately, it appears to have been discontinued from Ophoria , as it is no longer on their website.

2.) The Big O Glow – anyone who knows me knows I’m a rabid fan of the original Big O – a vibrating cock ring that works amazingly well. So, now…there’s a light in it. So, if the couple is doing it missionary, I sort of wonder if it looks like a blinking car alarm light from the woman’s (or receiver, in general) perspective. $17.95, here.

3.) The Fleshlight Vibro Glow – This is kinda neat, and the reason I thought of putting up this mini showcase. They announced this on twitter today, with only 1,000 available ($94.95). If you miss out, you can also just pair an ice fleshlight of your choice up ($69.95) with a Screaming O Glow bullet ($12.95) – it looks to be the same thing, although I don’t think STU texture is typically available in ice and it is cheaper as a bundle because it comes with three bullets.

I pulled out the little quarter-sized face and held it aloft from a dainty chain. I thought it might be from my parents’ semi-native Hawaii, as it looked to be made from Koa wood, I asked my mom. It was my Grandmother’s, she said, turning to sort some earrings. My grandmother, the straight-laced super-paranoid roman catholic, owning this smiling geisha that dangled in my fingers? All of her jewelery I’d ever known previously had all been of suffering saints, or appropriately hideous 60s and 70s costume jewelery that was almost painful to look at for long periods of time. What the hell, then, was this doing in here?

I turned it over in my hand, where an unknown kanji character was delicately carved in red. I puzzled over how fat the piece was, given the relatively shallow carving. It also felt deceptively light for being so large, and so I squinted at it, examining. The chain looped through the back in an odd way, and two long lines scored the back. Suddenly breathlessly excited, all of my geeky pre-teen years of cramming Nancy Drew novels suddenly came into play in one macguyver-like moment. A little tap confirmed the piece, which had traveled through my prudish church-loving maternal family for decades upon decades, was hollow. My mom, re-affirming her black sheep status from said family, immediately leaned closer and said her money was on a tiny stash of black tar heroin.

A few jiggles, feeding the chain through the top, gentle pressure and the end of a paperclip eventually prised open the back of the pendant, which slid open to reveal an inner cavity. I puzzled a moment over the miniature carving in the heart of it, wondering what on earth I was looking at. I saw waves and a strange geometric shape pop into their TRUE form in record time, thanks to a mind that stays in the gutter for a living. I started laughing so hard my eyes teared up and I fell sideways onto the floor, nearly speechless with laughter.

Inside this face, this secret-harboring woman that lurked in grandma’s jewelery box undiscovered for upwards of thirty years, was something truly amazing. In  the heart of the head of the geisha, there was a tiny, perfect, carved woman bending over, her bright pink vagina proudly on display.