archives

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

My Deflatable Penis*


The Adult Entertainment Expo (AEE) is held every January in Las Vegas. It is an opportunity for adult film and novelty makers to get together and share their wares with various distributors and everyone who wants to sell it, from mom and pop porn shops to the major players like Babeland. There is one giant room devoted to film and digital media. All of the major porn studios are represented with blaring and moaning video screens, and some booths proudly display graphic video games and even interactive toys that work with media. A second room houses any and all manner of sex toys. Various vendors and distributors have got you covered from butt plugs to nipple clamps. While there are a few industry-only days, the joint really starts jumping when fans are admitted to gawk and collect autographs from scantily-clad porn stars (and anyone else they might suspect of being a pornstar; someone requested a photo with my ass last year).

This year was the third year that I attended AEE. I still remember the first year I went. I was so excited. Wide-eyed and dumbstruck I stared at countless graphic sexual images. I think I saw more at that show than I had seen my whole life up until that point. I left the show proudly wearing my I *heart* Vagina pin and glowing with a new sense of ownership about my sexuality. Truth be told, I may not have ever started this blog had I not discovered AEE.

Last year I went for the second time, and I actually got up the nerve to talk to people. Still wide-eyed, I earnestly asked atendees questions about how they got into the industry and what their mothers thought about it and whether banks would give them loans to fund their less-than-vanilla projects and products. Actually talking to people made the show even more fascinating. I left not only with a new perspective but an armload of exciting new products that I went home to "test" and "review."

This year I eagerly awaited my trip to Vegas and AEE. My friends, accustomed the glee and toys I had come to share upon my return from previous shows, were just as excited about my visit. Sadly, I left Las Vegas on Sunday after the show feeling a little deflated. Don't get me wrong, there are some fabulous people involved with AEE, and I fully enjoyed spending time with Team OhMiBod and sex educator, Jamye Waxman, among others, but when it comes to the show itself, I suppose novelties can only be novel for so long. When you've smirked with appreciation for Not the Bradys XXX, how exciting is This Ain't the Munsters XXX? It is basically the same thing repackaged. And how many variations of the famed Rabbit Habbit does the world need?

Let me clarify -- I am all about capitalism, and I am a huge fan of innovation. I just found myself bored with seeing the same products and movies repackaged and reworked. There were a few novel things, and I will take the time to share some reviews over the next few days, but overall, there was not much novel about the novelties and not much new about the new releases. While I certainly enjoyed catching up with old friends and making new ones, I left the show feeling like I'd lost my mojo. This feeling is best described by the image above: beautiful, half-naked women squeezed the life out of my formerly firm porn show erection. Ah well, I suppose there are worse ways to lose a boner.








*Remember that song from the early nineties, "Detachable Penis"?

Labels: , , ,

tidbit posted by Mosa  @ 3:46 PM

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

All Knocked Up and No Place to Go


Knocked-up. Preggers. Bun in the oven. The rabbit died. With child. In a family way. Yep, it's all true. I think "knocked-up" is my favorite, and I have been using it ever since I started telling people about my pregnancy a month or two ago.

I waited-out the first three months of my maternal state without telling anyone other than The Mister (who I had been trying to tell even before I got pregnant) and my sister (who I knew would notice my changed drinking habits and make a deal of it unless I gave her a heads up beforehand). It was brutal. There I was, excited to be a mom and share my news with anyone and everyone, and I chose to keep my mouth shut. Honestly, after hearing horror stories of women practically embarking on national ad campaigns to announce their pregnancies only to have to undo it after miscarrying within the first trimester, I am glad I did what I did. But those three months were kinda miserable.

On the one hand it was wonderfully fun to have a secret that just The Mister and me were in on, but I felt like I was lying to everyone else in my life. This was compounded by the fact that I had terrible symptoms that I could not explain without spilling my baby beans. My face broke out like Mount Vesuvius and my ass, not to be outdone by the bumpy beacon of my face decided (with the help of ice cream and candy corn) to stretch past the bounds of hot "baby got back" plumpness to "is she carrying a baby in her butt?" hugeness. I got downright fat. And not in a cute "Oh, look at me! I am a celebrity with chicken legs and a nice round baby bump" kinda way. All over fat from my pudgy acne strewn face to my body's own personal attempt at cankles. Needless to say, all of this left me feeling pretty un-sexy.

I spent a good part of the first trimester of my pregnancy as a recluse. I was embarrassed by my changing appearance, and I doubted I could keep from blurting out my news, if not out of sheer excitement, then in defense of my bumpy-faced, lumpy-assed self. I went to the gym and the supermarket, but found myself avoiding social time with my friends. I stayed home and slept a lot.

Now that I am just over four months into this whole procreation experiment, I am trying to find the sexy in pregnancy. I have friends who gush about how their libido went through the roof while they were "brimming with child." These same friends and others claim that they loved having big, round pregnant bodies. I decided I would be happier if I at least aimed for this instead of spending the whole nine months mourning the loss of my washboard abs. I've been reading all kinds of books about how a mother's mental state during pregnancy can impact her child for the rest of his or her life. I don't want my offspring to obsess about the size of her* ass or constantly be concerned about how others might view her; I've spent the last thirty or so years doing enough of that crap for both of us.

The four month mark has been a turning point for me. As I started to tell people about my pregnancy, my hormones decided to even out thus evening out the texture of my formerly bumpy face. I am still fat, but my boobs are pretty amazing (for me anyway). I have never had boobs to speak of, or a belly for that matter, and I am enjoying stroking both. Much to my satisfaction and delight, my "huge" boobs are busting out of my A cups. Just as I have dreamed of since grade school, my cups runneth over -- wishes really do come true! What a waste it would be to fail to enjoy my temporarily engorged breasts. I better make the most of this cleavage while it lasts; I can't imagine my offspring wanting to breastfeed well beyond puberty. And a belly? I must give myself credit for having had a fairly flat stomach for most of my adult life. It has always been one of my favorite body parts. I am at a point now where I can no longer suck it in. It still sticks out, even when I lie on my back. I better enjoy that, too, because come June it's hello sit-ups and goodbye bump.

Pregnancy, like most things, is temporary. I am inspired to relish every moment that I have left. Hello tight shirt and push-up bra. Hello bellybutton poking out from beneath that tight shirt. I am knocked-up, and I am going places.

*Yesterday's ultrasound showed that my womb is, in fact, inhabited by a healthy and active baby girl.

Labels: , ,

tidbit posted by Mosa  @ 8:21 AM

 

 

advertisements

 

 

archives

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?