Menage a moi happens in Toronto!

5 08 2010

‘Sup V Lovers!

In one week – a mere seven days –  The Masturbation Issue of 1234V storms Toronto! You’ll want to come to The Beaver and help us celebrate, no? There’ll be wild and hilarious readings from the new issue thanks to a few brave cuntributors, plus music from Toronto band Betty Burke and Winnipeg DJ, Mama Cutsworth. Rumour has it that there just might be a raffle for a vibrator too… I’m just saying.

Thursday, AUGUST 12 is when the magic happens.
The BEAVER is located at 1192 Queen St W in Toronto.
Show up around 10:30.
Admission is $5 and pick yourself up a new issue of 1234V to share with your loved ones back home!

And as a treat for you, here’s a sneak preview from the new issue:

An Immodest Proposal

Sarah Michaelson

For a long time, I’ve thought that sex education in school should have a section on autoeroticism. Heck, a whole semester could be devoted to that topic. There are so many things you can do to make yourself feel good, and if it was just laid out in a manual with clear diagrams and plenty of homework, it would have helped out yours truly. A lot.

I didn’t have one of those early childhood cases of “the wiggles.” And I didn’t have an adolescent rubbing-up-against-something-accidentally moment to discover fancy sensations in cuntsville. No, the first time I masturbated was a goddamn embarrassing train wreck of fingers and dry labia. It was at a point in my life where I knew masturbating existed, but didn’t really know what the mechanics of it were. And lest we forget: the internet wasn’t the commonplace research tool we all take for granted now. Heck, even if it was, can you imagine trying to do this kind of important fact-finding on dial up? Despite these early 90s technological handicaps, I figured I should probably hunker down and try masturbation out. I really don’t know why I hadn’t masturbated before that night. I had a vigourous teenage imagination filled with elaborate sexual fantasies, so I suppose I felt satisfied with my sexy thoughts and left it at that.

On the infamous night, I had such a crap experience that I didn’t try again for a very long time. You see, I had an almost clinical approach to it; I took it too seriously. I was lying in bed settling down for a good night of imagining sexy things before going to sleep when, for no particular reason, I figured I should try and incorporate my V into this. I crept over to the bathroom and sternly lathered up, for sanitary reasons. That was my first fatal move: scrubbing up like a surgeon would before removing someone’s pancreas just isn’t a sexy vibe. When I returned to my dark bedroom, there was no mood lighting, no music, nothing to stimulate sensuality. Off to a bad start, I was so focused on trying to “make it happen” and had no idea what I was trying to go for. I can only liken it to an inexperienced teen-aged boy trying to feel up his date – ever so awkwardly – shoving fingers in anywhere and just wiggling ’em. Oh god, it was horrible. I knew I had a clitoris (mum and dad were those liberal kinds of parents, who explained our anatomy at an early age to prevent us from saying “weewee” or “treasure” or whatever), but I had no idea how to use it to make things feel good down there. Correction: I didn’t know you could use it. So I pretty much just threw a finger up my twat and tried rubbing and poking.

See? I could have really used some help with this. Some solid professional help.

That is why we need mandatory self-pleasure classes in all schools. Because even if you were fortunate to happen upon such an activity by yourself, there can always be ways to get better. Imagine: everyone showing up to class, every day! Why would you want to skip? Kids would stay in to do their homework, repeatedly, just to make sure they got it right! Teen pregnancies would go way down because girls would realize that a vibrator makes magic happen and you don’t have to give it head if you don’t want to! Students wouldn’t cheat on their tests because they’d want to do their work! I suppose class presentations would still make students nervous, and some people might not want to work with lab partners… well, I haven’t worked out all the kinks yet.

Nonetheless, I’ve begun formulating a syllabus for the semester. Students would begin with the concept of “Feeling Sexy: Wooing Yourself” and other rudimentary topics such as “Wetness Works Wonders” and “Batteries Not Included: An Introduction To Vibrators.” After midterms, the course would cover important messages like “Practice Makes Perfect” and teachers would hand out shower heads for final exam preparation. Lastly, educators would cover autoerotic safety in sections like “How Many Fingers Is Too Much?” and “Don’t Just Shove Anything Up There.”

Perhaps you’re worried this radical proposition will create an influx of horny, masturbating teens. You are right: it will, thereby reducing the current population of horny, screwing teens. I profess, in the sincerity of my heart, that I have not the least personal interest in endeavouring to promote this necessary work, having no other motive other than the public good of my country, relieving parents from worry, and young ladies giving some pleasure to themselves at an age when they could use it most.

* * *

Thanks to Come As You Are and Red Tent Sisters in Toronto for their support!

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