The Over-Educated Nympho

I finally sucked it up and ordered my own subscription to Maxim magazine. In college I made my boyfriend get a subscription and then I was the one who would read the damn thing as soon as it came to his apartment. I don’t think he ever read them, he just looked at the pictures (they are lovely pictures). While single I occasionally bought an issue at the newsstand and hid it between copies of The New Yorker and a trade magazine at the register and then would read the whole thing alone at home and throw it away because I was embarassed (ie lame).

Why Maxim over the others? I think it’s the funniest. No. Scratch that. I think it’s fucking hysterical. And besides, they clearly recognize talented writers who interview people like me for their articles.

I’m sure plenty people out there think that magazines like Maxim, Stuff, FHM are horribly degrading because they sex-jectify women. To which I say, yes they do. But have you not read enough of my blog to know that I objectify men right back? I’m an equal opportunity objectifier.

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To answer the male readers out there: this particular sex toy website I’m associated with has an extensive collection of toys for men. I was impressed, I saw things I’d never heard of. There are many things for men only, or for men to use with a partner.

And then of course who is to say vibrators and dildos are only for women? Come on now. We now you like it in the bum too. I’ve gotten that secret out of too many guys to believe you think it’s weird.

I was one of the first people to arrive at Barbie’s party. When I first walked in I saw Dr. Barbie on the couch, her fiance Ken (Barbie. Ken. Obvious names I know but she IS blonde and beautiful and he IS handsome, so there ya go), and a plain and shy-looking guy sitting on the couch who did particularly strike my interest.

Ohhh shit. Immediately I dragged Dr. Barbie into the kitchen and whispered “please please please tell me that isn’t the guy you wanted me to meet tonight!” She assured me it was not. Phew. (Yes, I talked to him several times throughout the night and saw that he was a very kind and sweet guy, but simply not my type.)

I sat down with a beer and ten minutes later a guy came in. A not-too-bad-looking guy. Not bad at allllll. Before he even came over to introduce himself I was trying to catch Dr. Barbie’s eye so I could get some indication if he was the guy or if he was another one of Ken’s coupled friends. She was too busy playing the good hostess to notice my frantic eye interrogation.

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