Good good good GOOOOOD vibrations

Today, a film will be unleashed on the public. A film entitled Hysteria. You may have heard of it. And if you have, you will realise that this is a film, I simply cannot let slip by unnoticed.

It is a film about an ordinary everyday household object. And the origins thereof.

Yes. I am talking about a woman's best friend. Anyone, at this stage, who is thinking - 'Iron', is going to get a swift kick in the ankle from me.

I am of course referring to a single woman's solace, a married woman's guarantee of joy, a husband's nemesis, The Vibrator.

Any woman who tells you she has never owned or used a vibrator is a liar or a nun. It is the equivalent of a sixteen year old boy saying 'I can use my right hand for WHAT?! How very dare you?! I would never! I have exams to think of.... The very idea....'

These days they come in so many shapes, sizes, colours and creeds, the choice can be as difficult as deciding which chocolate to take in a big 'ol box of Milk Tray... You can even buy them off the shelf in Boots. (The shop. They aren't wearing boots, I think you have to go to a very specialist store for that).

They even come in a lots of different animal shapes. A menagerie a trois if you will... (sorry... couldn't resist) for the....umm.... discerning animal.... ahem.... lover..... 

There is the Rabbit... of course. Yes, we ALL know about the rabbit, but were you aware of the dolphin? The whale? And Oh My God I Wish I Was Kidding.... the HELLO KITTY VIBRATOR. 

Those three words sum up why the Japanese need to be stopped. Now.

The vibrator is no longer a tool for the sad single spinster. They are enjoyed by couples, frequently as 'spicing up' type equipment. Men even have their own fun jiggly rings of joy. 

Whilst it is becoming more and more common for women to discuss the latest in buzzing technology, it still remains a thing of great fear and excitement to men, a bit like a roller coaster, costs a lot, it looks fun and colourful and there's lots of screaming.....

But, one thing that scares them is, what if it does a better job? Will they be demoted? And why is it so much bigger than their own appendage? Isn't that just a rubbery smack in the face?

Well, they have no one to blame but themselves.

The vibrator was invented by doctors in the Victorian age to 'cure' women of 'hysteria'. The usual method of this was for the doctor to stimulate a women's vagina with their finger until they reached 'completion'. Men mixing their laziness with their love of toys invented a device to do the job for them. Which meant it was developed with a very male take on what women would find stimulating. Hence the supersized phallus.

If it had been invented by a woman, it would probably resemble a sort of tiny Ryan Gosling and would project pictures of shoes on the wall during usage.

It wasn't long before women were taking smaller versions of this 'cure' home, and funnily enough, hysteria suddenly became a very common complaint.

I am sure that no man, unless truly confident in himself, will believe me when I say no woman would choose a plastic wobbly device over a real, living breathing human. And why should he believe me, when he is told time and time again that that is not true?

Sex and the City, and any female orientated show is constantly digging away at masculinity and telling them all that they are useless and will never live up to the treasures that are nestled in Ann Summers. But it's okay, because it's always meant as a bit of fun, a little emasculating joke. 

Why can't we just tell them the truth? We would chuck out our rabbits, our tingletips and our black knights for just one evening with the man of our dreams.

But not Hello Kitty. You will have to fight me to get that one. 

All strings attached.

I have been deliberating for a long time over the topic of this blog.

There is a huuuge amount to talk about on this subject. This will probably take a good ten blogs. It is the first time I have ever had to do research. By research I mean chat to friends, lazily use Google once and watch Desperate Housewives.

The subject that I am attempting to broach is infidelity.

I'm sure it is not a coincidence that the word infidelity starts with the word infidel. 

Actually it is a massive coincidence.  

Is it inevitable that a partner will cheat? Film and TV say it is. And why would they lie? Everyone is at it. It would appear. No relationship is complete without a good old fashioned affair.

Unfortunately, what with the nature of cheating being all sort of secretive and that, the statistics can't really be trusted. But research would suggest, that somewhere between 30 and 60% of all married individuals will be unfaithful at some point.

Let's start with the basics. What constitutes cheating? People's opinions on this vary MASSIVELY. I think we are all pretty much agreed that any form of contact with another persons 'special area' is cheating. But there is a divide on kissing. I know a married woman who thinks snogging another guy is acceptable. And a bit of harmless fun. But then, I also know a man who was married but had a full blown affair for ten years. But the way he sees it, he was completely faithful. To two women. 

Both of these people, I think, are just telling themselves what they need to tell themselves to stop the guilt. The same way that I tell myself that if food is free, then it doesn't have any calories in it. Which is why my current diet consists of me rummaging around in bins outside Tescos. Seriously, I am only eating 300 calories a day. I don't know why I'm not losing weight.

In this day and age, there are all sorts of ways to get your kicks, that don't involve actually touching another persons yoghurt gun or panty hamster.

There are all sorts of websites dedicated to watching a complete stranger perform acts of rudeness on themselves. And if you're feeling in a generous mood, then you can show them your private no pants dance too.

If you engage in this behaviour whilst in a relationship, is that cheating? There are very clear arguments on both sides.

It is as harmless as porn, you will never meet the other person and possibly most importantly, you are not, nor ever will be in an emotional relationship with that person.

But, it is another person, and it is just the two of you involved. And your partner may understandably feel hurt that you have had to go elsewhere for your one man tug o' war. 

I should probably stop now, seeing as I having only managed to talk about what constitutes cheating so far. 

I have lots more nonsense to spout on this subject. And will do so at a later stage.

Technoeulogy

So. I have found myself for the last week or so in the barren land of no computer. AND no smart phone. Can you imagine?! No facebook, no twitter, no junk mails to tell me how to elongate my penis in order to make my girlfriend happy. I should have paid attention to these, having now found myself with no girlfriend. And a weirdly long penis.

We have all come to rely on this technology way too much (the Internet - not penis elongating devices). It is so difficult to do minor things, view things online, check times of things, watch mystic cat on youtube and all of the wonderful things that help make our little worlds go round.

What did we used to do before we had this ability? How did we function?! If someone asked the question, 'How long can a caterpillar hold it's breath underwater?' We used to have to wait until the following day, or till Monday if it was the weekend, and pop to our local library to dig out a dusty copy of an encyclopedia in the hopes that we would find the answer. 

We would probably not find the answer. 

It is a stupid question. 

But I bet Google could tell you. 

It is now no longer necessary to hold information in our brains because we are able to find out that information at the touch of a button.

Future generations will have to enter www.whatismyname.com every time someone asks, as they literally do not have the brain capacity to store such trivial information.

I no longer am aware when friends are having birthdays as I don't bother to write down this information. Why would I? When I have the friendly Facebook Butler I like to call FB?

As I am happily reading what nonsense people have been up to, looking at pictures of people on camels and noticing that 'Richard has just fallen over in the street LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :-) ', he wil  clear his throat politely and say -

'Ma'am'

'Yes FB?'

'Were you aware Ma'am, that it is Lady Victoria Rysing's birthday today'

'Gosh Darnit, FB, I was not aware of that, I will leave a little note on her wall that will get lost in amongst all the hundreds of others she will receive. Which, will then, in turn, convince her she is popular as many people have taken the time out of her day to write such notes.'

'Very good Ma'am.'

I am not saying that it is bad that we have reached this stage, for if you think about it many wonderful things have come from it, like being able to order a take away without speaking to a human. It is just weird to realise how much I actually require regular Internet in my life just to function on a basic level.

This past week I have been unable to clean myself, or feed myself and keep ending up in the sea instead of at work.

This doesn't even cover the amount of time we spend Falking (Facebook stalking). I mean what happened to the days when you used to meet someone you liked and you would spend that wonderful exciting time getting to know each other. Your likes, dislikes, how they'll die if they smell honey, you know the usual cute things.

These days you meet someone (and I know I'm not alone here) and instantly add them on Facebook. Then I spend hours scrawling through their profile with a toothcomb (which incidentally should never be used to comb teeth). Driving yourself mental with questions like 'Who is that girl in that photo with her legs around his neck?' 'Why did his status on the 17th October say that he is having a 'great time' does that mean he's a murderer? You know, the usual cute things.

Anyway, I must be off, FB has prepared tonight's Roast Pheasant.