I don’t really watch TV (part of it is we have a lousy connection, which is amazing considering you can throw a stone and hit several studios if you just stand outside), so I didn’t see the interview on “The Today Show” featuring Jane Fonda and Eve Ensler, and the resulting brouhaha when Jane Fonda used a particular four-letter word for female genitalia. I did, however, read about it later online.

I just dismissed it as the usual hand-wringing by the media and by oversensitive individuals who have no problem with Rambo but get all indignant when any mention of human sexuality makes its way onto the airwaves. I also found it ironic considering Ensler’s play, “The Vagina Monologues”, was written to demystify the female sexual experience and bring it home to all of us. It’s a play that has been performed tons of times all over the nation, and has been done successfully in the deaf community (my walking partner was in a benefit performance up north in Sacramento a few years back, sharing the stage with the likes of Shoshannah Stern and Nathie Marbury).

However, I later read an outstanding post on the topic, written by Bev Sykes at Funny the World, which is one of my daily must-reads. As Bev notes, “cunt” isn’t the only four-letter word out there– there’s also “rape.” The main reason why Fonda and Ensler were on the show at all was to talk about the fundraising Ensler is doing on behalf of rape victims in the Congo. As Bev articulately states,

We hear a lot of dialog about “family values” these days and you can just bet that there are whole groups which will recoil in horror when speaking about Jane Fonda.   What will those people do about the rapes in Congo?  Will they even think about them?  Or will their sensitive ears be so offended by hearing a bad word that this is all they hear?  Will they be so busy vilifying Jane Fonda that this little matter in Congo will be forgotten?

She’s right. Go read her post in its entirety, and then tell me and come back what we really should be horrified about?

I don’t know whether to be appalled or amused. I suppose a little bit of both.

Once upon a time, people actually read books. They went to plays, artistic performances, and celebrated the arts and the intellect. Today, people get excited over shows like “Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader?”

So I suppose it wasn’t too surprising to see the following news item the other day:

Woolworths stores in Britain have stopped selling “Lolita” beds for young girls after a parents’ organization complained because of the name’s association with the famous novel about a pedophile.

Something tells me there’s someone in the Woolworths marketing department desperately in need of a Great Books curriculum, immediately. Item #1: Nabokov, obviously.

I think I’ve discovered my life’s calling: writing headlines. Now I just have to find someplace that values that skill that’ll hire me (and Neil…? Where’s my retroactive pay for the BnB? *grin*).

Anyway, I digress. Everytime I go somewhere with my permanent roomie, I always notice that when nature calls, I can dash in and out in a flash, while she (and any other female in our company) takes three or four times as long. I know there are practical reasons for gender separation when it comes to the restroom, but I do wonder if there’s any way to rectify the inequity. At the same time, I do admit it’s one of the things I find great about being a man: in and out, no fuss at all. I can discreetly do my thing out in the woods, for example. Flop it out, do my stuff, pack it back in, and away we go. You get the idea.

In some small venues, such as coffee shops and the like, I’ve seen unisex bathrooms, which I think are a godsend. It’s also great for the times when the janitor takes over the place, and sets out the infamous sign telling you the bathroom is closed. Not the best thing to see when you’re inventing the latest dance fad right outside the door, and you aren’t intentionally trying to do so. When it’s the usual segregated bathroom setup, there’s no real recourse. But with unisex bathrooms, you can just dash into the other restroom without any difficulty (unless you’re in one of those places with ONE bathroom, and no other facilities). Oh, and there’s always the woods…

I think unisex bathrooms are the way to go. But they’re coming along slowly– not every place has designated their necessaries with a unisex decal. Until then, there might not be a whole lot of equity when it comes to universal functions.

But there’s another possible solution: penis parity. No, I’m not envisioning surgeries, or other equally drastic or weird steps. Instead, there’s a new invention: the shenis.

THE SHENIS?!?!?!

Yep, you heard me right. The Shenis. We fellas have a penis. Some brilliant person out there borrowed that organic concept granted to roughly half the population and came up with a synthetic solution. Shenis.

It’s not a dildo– although I’m sure someone out there who has purchased one will probably try it for that purpose (although considering its length, that’s perhaps not adviseable!). Instead, it’s a 12-inch long gold sheath that should delight women everywhere. Go ahead, check it out here. Let me know what you think; have we reached penis parity, or what?

If we have, great. Maybe then those double-decker lines will shorten a bit. But the unisex bathrooms need to still be gender segregated to a degree. We guys do discreetly check out each others’ johnsons from time to time (not for Larry Craig-style thrills, thank you, but from the immature, primal need to be top dog). I don’t think many guys’ egos could withstand hauling their meat out and having the gal right next to them whip out a 12-incher. Then again, it’d give a whole new twist to pissing contests… *grin*

Ladies, have you tried it? If so, what do you think? Don’t be shy, now’s your chance to step up and tell all!

A few years back, my permanent housemate helped her sister get ready for a bachelorette party. My sister-in-law wasn’t the one getting married, but she’d been put in charge of making a cake for the festivities. Together, the two of them worked on creating a masterpiece: a cake in the shape of a massive penis. We have a picture of the finished product somewhere, which I will *not* be posting.

I thought it was amusing, and wondered how much the bride-to-be enjoyed it, as well as what the party attendees thought. I figured this kind of thing was something people did on their own (although I’ve seen the chocolates that are molded into breasts and the like).

Well, apparently not. There’s a business in San Francisco (SOMA, to be exact) that specializes in some very naughty treats. While this bakery will do the usual traditional stuff (the bakery did “about fifty wedding cakes for ‘Mrs. Doubtfire’.”), they also will create some very x-rated material. The owner, Jerry Carson, said he decided to offer cakes for different tastes partially because  “I …wanted to have an excuse to talk dirty to girls on the phone.”

There’s a brief interview, the address, and some VERY *not safe for work* pictures here. Have fun, let me know if you order one; it definitely gives a new meaning to the old expression, “Having your cake and eating it too.”