My Condom Love Affair

Several weeks ago my husband and I went to a weekend marriage retreat in Waikiki (it takes work, yo). Everything was going dandy until Mark Gungor’s “Laugh Your Way to a Better Marriage” was introduced to my life. That man is seriously either an idiot or just horribly irresponsible.

Mark Gungor’s number one key to the best sex life?

MONOGOMY.

Seriously, dude? That’s your NUMBER ONE sex tip? If you want to do the monogamy thing, sweet.  I find myself in an exclusive patch right now, in fact, but I wouldn’t say it’s the best thing about my sex life.  As if that little gem hadn’t gotten my panties in a big enough bunch already, Gungor started to pour on the condom hate.

“Wearing a condom is like eating an ice cream cone with a sock on your tongue.”

Very nice, dude. Well it’s a good thing you’re still living in a monogamy dominated fairy tale, because that’s just about the only scenario in which your philosophy holds its ground. Keeping in mind that Gungor’s audience is typically a group of married, straight, white, Christian folk, perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised by his remarks. But what about the millions of people with herpes? What about those of us who don’t like hormonal birth control? What are we supposed to do to prevent conception? Despite what my biological clock wants me to think, I’m not quite ready to be a mom.

So, doing the horizontal tango with a condom isn’t anybody’s favorite, but condoms are the reason we’re not all a ball of walking STDs with eight bazillion kids. Back in my college days, condoms protected me from unwanted health issues, whether I was in a monogamous relationship or not. Now that I’m married condoms play an important part in my  natural family planning routine. Ovulating? Condom time. Bleeding? Condom time. Believe you me, if it felt like eating ice cream with a sock on your tongue, Trojan would have gone out of business two minutes after its conception.

Modern technology combined with the power of the Internet shopping machine means that we can each get the type of condoms that fit our personal style. Big dicks, small dicks, curvy shaft or thin. Sensitive pussy, kinky pussy, and every pussy in between, there are hundreds of condoms to choose from and test driving those bad boys is just another great excuse to have sex.

As I get older, condoms have lost some of their urgency for me.  I’m in a stable, loving relationship and an accidental pregnancy would be welcomed with loving arms, but just because you may find yourself in a place where condoms aren’t necessary for your continued existence doesn’t mean it’s okay to espouse the idea that they’re a worthless piece of rubber.  Get real.

I leave you with the words of Barney Stinson:

A Period of Silence

It’s been a little while since my last post as M. Pineapple. So long, in fact, that I was sure my sex blogging days were at an end. Lulled by the security of a full time office job and prospect of the kind of future that I could talk about at family reunions, I let my dreams fall by the wayside. Silly me.

Last week I got the kind of news from my gynecologist that no one wants to get: the results from my annual Pap smear were abnormal. In that brief phone conversation, inconveniently had on the bus, I felt my universe fold down around me. My old friend, Anxiety, welled up in my heart and began feeding me a string of impossibly dramatic possibilities.

Do I have cancer? Maybe. And if I do? Will I be able to have children? How long will I live? Can I honestly say that I’m working at what I am most passionate about in this world? Am I doing it fast enough?

So many questions have filled my mind to bursting these past four days. There are still two weeks until my colposcopy appointment and until then, neither I or my anxiety can know head from tails about what my cervix is up to. Though the nurse said it’s probably HPV and that I will probably
flush it out of my system being the healthful young woman that I am, we can’t know for sure. And for now that’s where I’ll leave it.

Whatever happens at that terrifying appointment, I got the message I needed. I may not be the most eloquent, on-point sex blogger on the Internet. In fact, I am barely on anybody’s radar, but I don’t give a madam’s teat whether two or two hundred people read this silly little blog; I’ll be here, warming up my voice. If you’re reading this, I thank you from the bottom of my nerdy, anxiety ridden heart. It’s people like you and I who will change the world, one ignorant fear monger at a time. And by golly, we’re going to have a smashingly sexy good time while we’re at it.

Mahalo and aloha.

My Life Is a Competition

It’s that time of year when we’re all promising ourselves, our friends, maybe even our houseplants that we’ll be better people. I was too busy gorging myself on a How I Met Your Mother marathon to remember to make myself any resolutions before now. I probably would even have forgotten to celebrate if my guy hadn’t been so jazzed about it.

So sure, it’s well into the first week of the new year, but can it ever be too late to set impossibly high goals for yourself? Nah. So this year I’ve decided to dial down my competitive streak a little bit.

Burlesque Performance Art

In the wildly unpredictable fever of celebration, one can only hope to stumble into a pocket of carnivalesque conviviality.  Such a pocket was uncovered by the pineapple crew on New Years Eve when we retired from Mercury to the heavenly beer haven of Bar35.  Rounded the dingy corner into the main room, we were greeted by the sight you see captured below.

Violetta at Bar35 by Mister Pineapple

From the moment I moved to Oahu from the sexy city of Portland I’ve been encouraged to catch a show by the Cherry Blossom Cabaret girls, Oahu’s resident burlesque dancers.  Chalk it up to laziness but I just couldn’t find the time to seek them out for a show.  Lucky for moi, the fates were kind this New Years Eve.  Though I missed the main Moulin Rouge show at The Venue the performance art style display at Bar35 was enough to have me coming back for more.

Keep That Sparkle In Your Eye

With the shiniest holiday of the year come and gone, that sequined party dress perhaps still crumpled at the foot of the bed, it feels like ages until sparkles will be a main fashion staple again.  But just because the ball has dropped on a fabulous new year doesn’t mean that the bedroom can’t have a little bit of glitter for that everyday sexy time.

My sparkly friend?

This little wonder makes me feel like a kinky Cinderella and it embodies the thing I love most about what each passing year brings us in sex toys.  No longer do I have to walk into a store in search of something to tickle my fancy and worry about whether that pink novelty vibrator is going to electrocute my labia off.  I have the power to not only buy a sex toy that looks like it belongs to Barbie, but one that’s made of 100% medical grade silicone.

What better way to start the new year than with safe, beautiful toys?  Especially toys that have a little glitz.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to 2012.

Sexy & Sensible Celebration Checklist

It’s that time of year again and we all want to bring in the new year with a sexy-sultry bang-bang.  Whether you’re busting out the itty bitty lingerie or the special occasions bondage box, there are some important things to remember when you’re going out and going down on this festive night.

My Madam December

My lady-hero of the month of December: Helen Mirren.  Sure, it’s the 30th and most of the month is gone, but it’s not January until everyone puts on their shiny clothes and gets a little crazy goddammit (and hopefully none of us are doing that until later tonight).

You see, Mirren is just a little…notorious and damn if I don’t love that about her.  I mean seriously, who has the ovaries to pose naked in a bathtub for NYMag, let alone post naked at all at the age of 64?  And this was after cavorting in a bikini at the age of 63 and, if I may say so myself, totally working it.  Here’s one of the gutsty photos for your viewing pleasure if you haven’t already born witness to it’s glory.  Ah, I’m in love.