First of all, I hate novelty gifts.  They seem pointless to me.  I mean, really, how many times can a pooping pig induce true belly laughs.  I look at Whoopee cushions, toilet seat outhouse decals, and racing grannies with disbelief—who are these people who shell out $15 for a nose shaped shower gel dispenser?  Yet, my scale of stupidity had to be adjusted when I discovered the Sex Snorkel.

Can you imagine strapping this contraption on the next time you decide to take a dip at the Y? Not only is it ridiculous, it’s completely unnecessary, and counterproductive.  Oral sex is all about finesse, not face plants in the crotch, and we all know that the clitoris hates to be bullied.  If you can’t figure out how to breath through your nose, then you totally deserve looking like John Belushi in his bee costume. What’s next?  Sending a canary up the vagina to see if survives?

If you really find oral sex so difficult to master, you can always add the ear mounted light specifically designed to illuminate the crotch during oral sex.  

Perfect also for grilling the labia  “And Majora where were you and MInora exactly on the night of July 3^rd?  Nerd spoiler:  the device is not Bluetooth compatible.

There’s something inherently unsettling in these “jokes”.  There is the implication that a woman’s body is so unknowable that we have to engineer new ways to master the foreign terrain.  I’ve said this before, but it obviously needs repeating.  Great oral sex requires emotional intelligence.  You both need to communicate and respond to each other’s sexual expectations and desires, with patience, knowledge and a willingness to listen.  A high erotic quotient implies confidence, respect, imagination and the ability to laugh like a gibbon at these ultimate gag gifts. So put down the toys of these sexual saboteurs and say a toast to the female form, which is both path and journey and just waiting to be explored.

Product Review: The One Vibrator I Would Save if My House was on Fire

After I used the Eroscillator for the first time, I actually called the owners of my favorite sex shop to thank them for recommending it. I wasn’t in the market for a new toy, especially one that costs $140, but they kept raving about its virtues.  Not technically a vibrator, this device produces a side-to-side oscillating motion as opposed to the up-and-down movements of a vibrator. Now I normally don’t turn to Dr. Ruth for sex advice (make that never), but the Eroscillator® is the only sex toy that she recommends and sponsors.

A university study asked 30 women (age range 24-47) to test the Prelude III, the Hitachi Magic Wand and the Eroscillator.  Admittedly, this is a pretty small sample size but their data support my own conclusions, i.e., the Eroscillator was most likely to 1) produce the high intensity orgasms; and 2) result in multiple orgasms.  I also give it props for the different pop off attachments with such adorable names as The French Legionaire’s Mustache.

Here are the top 6 reasons why I love it:

1. It’s so quiet that every other toy you use will sound like a jackhammer in comparison.
2. The flexibility of a 12-foot cord.
3. It’s waterproof so you can clean the entire device (minus the power converter, of course) with soap and water.
4. Three speeds and several attachments so you can vary the intensity and sensations with ease.
5. Very lightweight and streamlined design.
6. The company has a 30-day return policy that allows you to try it out, and if you are not satisfied, you can return it and get a 50% refund.

7.   Ability to use it for clitoral, vaginal and anal stimulation depending on which attachment you choose.

There are great models to choose from, so why are we inundated with multi-function gadgets?  I don’t want a pen with a vibrating eraser. Nor am I interested in an all-in-one vibrator, keychain and flashlight.  (Now where did I leave those Keys???).

The most recent offenders are the Tingle Tip and Brush Bunny.  I stumbled upon these products when I was doing research for my vibrator book, and my mood quickly shifted from carnal to cranky.  Why?

Because these products TURN YOUR ELECTRIC TOOTHBRUSH INTO A VIBRATOR.

Yes, you read that correctly.  The Brush Bunny fits over the top of the brush, whereas the Tingle Tip “fits directly on to your electric toothbrush with patent-pending technology to deliver orgasmic vibrations.”  Both products suggest liberally applying lube before use and washing thoroughly in warm water afterwards.

Now I’m fastidious about proper dental care. I wonder, therefore, how I could ever take the same device that I use twice a day for oral hygiene and apply it the to the contours of my vulva. For me, even though they promise to keep things “fresh down below,”  the eeeww factor guarantees a bad case of receding cums. I can’t even wrap my woolly brain around the double entendre  “we have to fill that cavity” and the emotions that phrase would now elicit.

I suppose the good news is that you’d only need one set of directions for both the Tingle Tip or Brush Bunny and the Electric tooth brush.

*   Proper oral irrigation is essential.

*   Use at a least twice a day.

*   Make sure your brush is always properly charged

*   Place the head at a 35-degree angle

*   Move the brush up and down gently in short strokes.

*   Use the “”toe” to clean the inside surfaces using a gentle up-and-down strokes.

*   Apply to outer and inner surfaces to remove unsavory bacteria.  Check and Mate.

Here’s my advice—forget the the Tingle Tip and the damn bunny and buy yourself an Eroscillator, a true grown-up vibe.  It’s the one vibe I’d take if my house caught fire and after every use I bow down to Our Lady of the Screaming Orgasm.

As an occasional reviewer of sex-related products, I sometimes find “surprise” packages at my front door. Two weeks ago I received a nondescript cardboard box, but the content was anything but ordinary. What did I discover when I rummaged through the tissue paper? The cone vibrator.

Now the cone has been around for a while but this was my first chance to test-drive it. Just in case the picture doesn’t do it justice, let me provide a more complete description. First of all it’s big, measuring 7 “ across the base and 5 inches tall. (Men, you all know what six inches looks like, so just use your imagination.) It features a souped-up 3,000-rpm motor so you can pretend you are diverting traffic AND operating a jackhammer simultaneously. And it is PINK. I’m talking make-your-teeth ache-Pepto-Bismol pink with a chaser of cotton candy,

When I first saw this his and/or her vibe, I was not bewitched, just bothered and bewildered. Did I really want to turn my tender tarmac into a construction zone? No. But my honest opinion was required, so I reluctantly put my snarky thoughts aside and tried it on for sighs. Consulting the instruction manual, I discovered helpful illustrations of recommended positions—all hands-free! Unlike every other vibe on the market, (i)conic coitus involves resting or sitting on the vibe. As I began perusing the possibilities, I noticed one glaring oddity– every illustration prominently featured reading material.

Were the figures reading the instructions, perusing racy porn, or checking on the correct way to assume the down dog position? Apparently, having both hands free allows you to multi-task in ways I’d never thought possible.

The On the Way Out variation allows you to achieve the big “O” while “drying your hair or applying make-up. Pop it on a chair, lower yourself down and enjoy the sensation, as you get ready for your day. Perfect.” Come again? Who the Hell wants to focus on applying foundation when you’re trying to raise the rafters with a roaring orgasm?

But maybe I just lack an adventurous spirit. If you read the customer reviews on the cone’s website, the conversations women have with this inanimate object can get pretty animated. Hearts pound, pulses race and the explosions sound worthy of a supernova!

So I decided to get back up on the um… horse. Discovering that the lunge is one of most popular positions, I decided it would be the logical next step. How very wrong I was. Because you hold your intimate hovercraft over the cone, the hamstring strength required to maintain this position is only possible for the genetically enhanced. As my thighs do not bear any resemblance to Popeye’s forearms, they began to shake after a minute. By minute 2, the inevitable happened: The cone turned on me. I fell off and it ricocheted off the bed frame.

After all of this “C”-list battery buzzing, my poor Little Bo Peep felt like a swollen vending machine. Instead of choosing the sensible path to pleasure (immersing myself in a sitz bath for hours), I decided to take another whack at the sit spins. This time, however, I tried The Wall.

Recommended for more adventurous customers, The Wall enabled me to give my quads a rest and paint my toenails at the same time (I make up for in flexibility what I lack in lower body strength. I was voted “Most like Linguine” in High School.) While this position gave me much needed support, it rendered a small but pivotal part –the control switch, inaccessible. The cone comes with 16 built-in programs ranging from subtle vibrations to blast off. Fumbling for the all-important orgasm button between my legs proved “pointless.” The dimpled button that guaranteed a predictable Doppler effect from this up vibe was always just beyond my reach, and I couldn’t see under the hood. Maybe I shouldn’t have let my subscription to Contortionist Illustrated lapse.

Anyway, I was bumping and grinding away when the soles of my shoes began sliding on the hardwood floors, my orgasm hanging precariously in the balance. At that point, thoroughly bored with the cone (and I mean that in both senses of the phrase) my eyes fell on one of the random reviews that now littered my bedroom floor. Great Sex Toys for Hiding Out in the Open. I slowly lowered myself to the floor and began to read. The Cone, it seems, is being touted as a Vibe “you can leave out for guests to appreciate your art collection!” Then I spotted another: “The funky, contemporary style means you don’t need to hide it away in the bedroom drawer.”

First of all, you’d need a steamer trunk not a drawer, and second, “Who the Hell wants a pink cone in their living room.” Maybe if you’re living in Barbie’s dream house or like to display oddities among your odds and ends, this makes sense. But for people who don’t consider random neon-bright shapes postpostmodern sculpture, it’s unfathomable. Sure this piece of “tramp art” is less benign than a diving dolphin, but why would anyone want to test the limits of their personal sphere of privacy with a vibrator? Keep them in your secret stash where they belong and put this pleasure dome away.

Bottom Line: for the maladroit I give it only 1 star, and while I’m at it, a double thumbs down, which I can do because both hands are free.