Christina Cicchelli's blog

A year ago, Jezebel writers Tracie Egan and Moe Tkacik were invited to appear on Lizz Winstead's show "Thinking and Drinking" to discuss their unabashed sexual adventures and the explicit recounting of such on their popular blog. Both ladies showed up to the set inebriated and ready to speak with Winstead.

As a unnecessary lush (nursing a hangover as we speak), I must say that to watch these lasses slur their way through a conundrum-fuck was mildly entertaining. Also, I completely and utterly understand what they were trying to say. But, the fact that they were drunk and can't even solidify their statements makes it a failed attempt to offer a new and controversial approach to the sensitive issue that is rape.

Don’t we all love orgasms? I know I do. And so do these two beautiful women – Carlin Ross and Betty Dodson.What's so interesting is that the orgasms they describe are unlike those I experience. For good reasons, I'm sure. First, I'm rarely active after I have an orgasm. I suppose I'm like a man in this way; my body turns into ice cream in the sun. For example, rattled with stressful thoughts and anxious questions about my professional future, I was unable to go to sleep last night. Even my darling cats submersed in blissful slumber couldn't influence me to relax. What I had forgotten is that I recharged my batteries just that morning. I retrieved my batteries, stuffed them into my vibrator, and got to work!

I finally sat down and watched my pussy in action for I finally sat down and watched my pussy in action for

1) My clitoris is HUGE (Sorry, that's not a real lesson).

2) Our pussies can benchpress one serious barbell......Not just any barbell... Betty Dodson's barbell!!!

What My Period Means to Me:

I have one towel. It's tattered but beautiful. It's almost as heavy as a thick slab or rubber; but I need it to be that way. It wears a shade of orange so perfect that it magically exudes a comfort and sexual energy I cannot ignore. I lie it down on my bed. I take off my panties. I pull out my soiled tampon (or, ideally, menstrual cup) and toss it in a small trash can. Then, I go to bed.

The next morning, my thighs are decorated in blood. My towel wears my femininity proudly, soulfully deep red blotches appear next to browned ones that (after many a wash) still fight to remain present.

Scientists at the Wake Forest University Baptist Medical Centre's Institute for Regenerative Medicine have found a way to conduct penis transplants on rabbits. So why fiddle with the rabbit's dong? Leading this research is Dr. Anthony Atala, former pediatric urologist and a specialist for regenerative medicine. His expertise has made it possible to successfully create a "tailor-made transplant".

This is a pretty incredible process for those who suffer from genital injury (*cough*), penile cancer, erectile dysfunction, and other genital disorders. There is also a chance that if a penis is grafted onto an infant, then this new sex organ will grow and develop with the child.

Like most figures in the media, I indirectly ignore Carrie Prejean's face on websites and newspaper rags on a somewhat regular basis. I think I heard she was one of those pageant winners who flashed for cash (or for artistic expression, or whatever the cause may be). Now, I discovered that Prejean aims her self-righteous pistols at the media and pornography for her inevitable fall from redemption.

In a "tell-all" book, Prejean bashes pornography and talks straightforwardly about what a few topless pictures has taught her:

"Our bodies are temples of the Lord. We should earn respect and admiration for our hearts, not for showing skin to look sexy... I have since learned that your outer beauty can only get you so far in life." - Carrie Prejean

Before my husband, I mostly met men for relationships and such over the Internet. In fact, I discussed my first explicit encounters in one of my posts. And, I hadn't realized until after I wrote that piece how much of an impact my computer (and most other mobile devices) has had on my sex life!

An article I read the other day addressed my concerns. Social networking sites and personal ads work hand-in-hand, making it so simple to contact a person, get their information, and meet them somewhere for erotic pleasure or otherwise.

I totally mean it.

As a girl on the go, I have very little patience for immaturity. And very little patience for the unimaginative and uninspiring lackeys of this city! I need a man with style... a man with a can-do attitude and a chin that can slice through a tin can. I want a man who swallows martini like water.

I want Duck Phillips.

My vulva and I have been through many adventures. It's been a landscape of bodies and bedrooms, of smells and penetration and self-celebration (masturbation). And we've had the good graces of immortalizing our journeys through film and photographs. Heck, we even won an award! So, my vajayjay deserves a high-five. But, as it turned out on Friday, our cinematic adventures have not ceased (now we're in Betty's new Manual Skills Series).

With one leg hunched up on the toilet bowl, I expertly trim my public hairs. Never had I seen them so clean, so well-trimmed. Usually, it looks like I'm giving a young frat boy a choke hold with my legs. Or I get all porno on myself and shave it all off completely. This time around, we all wanted a very natural, bushy look (Just clean enough for the fine folks at home to see).

Nicole Kidman. She embodies the classic appeal of Hollywood that's rarely seen on the red carpet today. Behind that porcelain skin and ever-changing beauty, however, is a woman that welcomes a good challenge.

On the cover of British GQ, Kidman shows off her darker side. And, in an interview with the award-winning actress, the 42-year old mother and wife of country star Keith Urban describes her marriage as "dangerous":

"...I've explored strange sexual fetish stuff, I've explored the mundane aspect of marriage, and monogamy" - Nicole Kidman

Britney Spear's new single "3" says absolutely nothing about threesomes. The video gets the juices flowing but it's the same old dance.  The lyrics start off, "1, 2, 3 Not only you and me" which pushes the threesome button but that's as far as it goes.

When did this culture get so obsessed over fake sex and sexual innuendo? How has pop culture "progressed" towards "sexual liberation" by talking subliminally about it?

Now, sure there are plenty of popular resources that do speak frankly and straightforwardly about sexual encounters, but the infinite pool of pop culture that we absorb on a daily basis is scarce when it comes to informational and entertaining thoughts and ideas about sexuality.

Man vs. Nature, the endless chase to perfection, romance over the operating table - it's all in a day's work for plastic surgeon, Reza Vossough. His most recent invention, er, I mean innovation is not hard to find. Just look at his newly transformed wife, Cany Vossough.

Disinterested in his 33 year-old wife's body, Vossough stuffed his Cany with 1,600g of silicone and altered her butt, thighs, and stomach so that he could make her into the bodacious amazon she is today. And she's very happy with the results.

Of course, Cany invested over 18,000 Euros (over $26,000 American dollars) and went under the knife eight times before she married her plastic surgeon.

This week, we're going to take a look, have a smell, indulge in a taste, steal a touch, and listen in on the many, many forms of body worship.

As you can already tell, we're focusing on the five senses, each of which can illicit fetishistic associations with either the purpose of each sense or the sense itself. Of course, we will talk about the many body parts that are fetishized by all, but, I thought we should at least appreciate the unforeseen power that our senses play on us when we live in our fetish. All of our senses provide rooted connections to us and our fetish-object. And, for some of us, we needn't look too far for worship. Some of us simply need to take a whiff or listen in... and this is how we connect.

Ever since Roman Polanski's arrest hit the proverbial presses, almost everyone has been talking about it. No... Actually, everyone has been talking about it. Polanski supporters and naysayers are overwhelmingly spurned by a majority of the feminist press because, of course, they're anti-rape. But, what has always upset me about the discussion of rape (or, specifically, "date-rape") is that we make it so black and white when it just isn't.

Today, I want to discuss an often misunderstood and somewhat degraded character that comes up time and time again in Halloween traditions: The Witch.

That's right, guys! You've seen how she's turned out. Frankly, there's only two places you're going to buy the average witch costume: Ricky's and any bargain store that sells a ratty black wig and green make-up. And maybe a fake witch's mole. But that's it.

So, we've taken very polarized images of a witch, the oversexed, less-than-scary "sexy witch", and the ugly, old, and comical "Witch from Wizard of Oz" look. Not much of the Goddess's image has been explored ever since.