I told you we have a similar sense of humor...
A few days ago, Rik and I were checking out some websites, looking for a birthday present for his mother. On a pretty popular Dutch website, comparable to Amazon, we checked out some cookery books. My already feared mother-in-law-to-be loves experimenting in the kitchen. Apparently, she isn't the only one who likes to experiment. The website showed some suggestions, including make-up and an automatic banana peeler. Rik said "bullshit" but I replied "let's take a look at the reviews". Yes, people are allowed to review the items they buy.
Then, it happened. On the bottom left corner I saw a mascara that looked like a vibrator and of course mentioned that to Rik. He opened the page, which clearly showed the make-up article. But this time, on the left corner, something similar looking opened up. A real vibrator. You know, the battery operated thing that women use to do the thing they hope their husbands/boyfriends don't do: pleasure themselves. Of course, my first reaction was "oh man, I want to read those reviews".
It was the start of an hilarious evening...
So, the deal is this. People buy a vibrator, try it out and write a review about the thing. The process is basically the same as music reviews or movie reviews, except, very few people would stick a 12" vinyl up their fannies.
One woman - presuming most of those reviewers were female - praised the fact that the object was "discrete". But how could a vibrator be more discrete than the rest? Do other vibrators suddenly jump on the table when the girl's parents come over? Do other vibrators have flashing lights and a Thunderdome hardcore tune? Discrete, I guess, is: using it when alone and hiding it in a drawer when people are around. Very few vibrators show that behaviour on their own.
The fact that the review was written by Brenda VdL from Bavikhove (a very, very small town in Belgium) added a lot of credibility to the whole discretion aspect. I'm sure there are thousands of people named Brenda VdL among the 3835 inhabitants in Bavikhove. Brenda also liked the fact that the item is waterproof. In that, Brenda, I agree, it's a very good property for an electric appliance.
Several people complained about the durability of the batteries. One even wrote that the battery lasted for only seventeen seconds. Now, what kind of thing uses up two complete AA batteries in seventeen seconds? A nuclear dildo? Something with a clitoris stimulator with helicopter propellors? The facebook messenger app? Perhaps her item was broken and suffered an electricity leak. The little shock must have been quite satisfying. Anyway, seventeen seconds is longer than some men last, so perhaps that was quite a plus.
Speaking about men. Some women apparently need a man to be able to use the vibrator. The on/off button of one tool was very stiff and difficult to handle. I can imagine it now: the woman bought the item, opened the package, entered the batteries and what happened then? "Honey, could you start my vibrator? It's stiff"? His mumbling reply: "If something else was stiff more often, you wouldn't need the damn thing in the first place".
But yes, there were a lot of problems with the buttons, which were hard to move and to adjust the desired setting. Someone even complained about the remote control. What the hell do you need a remote control for when using a vibrator? Your dragon's lair isn't that far away, and don't you need to hold it in your hand anyway? Getting up from the seat, or bed, to change the thing to a different setting isn't necessary, right? You don't need a remote control for you computer mouse, so you don't need one for your vibrator. Unless it has a "kick in the door and jump me like a wild stallion" setting. In that case, yes, you need a remote control.
I often find user manuals hilariously useless, especially with things that have only the 'on' and 'off' option. But, according to Diane E, the user manual of her new best friend was very handy and pretty. That was crucial: it was a pretty, good looking and maybe even a little bit sparkling user manual. Someone else claimed that the car lighter charger didn't work. The blondest complaint was that there was no off-button, only an on-button. She has never used a vacuum cleaner, that's for sure.
A lot of women were fans of the design and color but I actually didn't find a single orgasm-reference. Nobody came, nobody squirted (which is actually allowed since it's waterproof), nobody reached the promised 'complete ecstasy of sensual satisfaction', although some women found a vibrator quite 'exciting'. That's like buying a ball and being surprised that it's round.
Another funny thing someone said is: "sending it back is not an option". You're kidding, you must be kidding. You put a vibrator up you meat-wallet, test every single setting and expect people to take it back and repay you? That's like men going to prostitutes and demanding their sperm back at the counter. No, it's not, I'm sorry about that. I'm getting carried away by all this hilarious sexual energy. But no, don't send used vibrators back. It's yuckie.
Judging from all those reviews, buying a vibrator seems to be quite a disappointing decision. It's too large, it's too small, it vibrates too hard, it doesn't vibrate hard enough, the anal satisfaction thingy fell of, the anal satisfaction thingy hurts... The list of complaints goes on and on. It really made me realise that we live in an over-sexed society in which there's just no satisfaction anymore. What's wrong with a finger or two? Or is that a bit too discrete for Brenda from Bavikhove?
Furthermore, I have a very vivid imagination. So yes, I pictured all those women putting those machines up their bearded clams, getting ready to review it. I imagined them adjusting the settings, trying it out and writing down the results on a piece of paper or directly on the review page using their iPads. I sure hope they washed their hands before they started typing.
For the record, and to conclude this writing: I don't mind people sticking things up their pink tacos or even their back doors but I certainly do think some things should stay at home, hidden in a drawer and only to be found by the one who uses it and, by accident, her dog. But then again, perhaps I'm just an old-fashioned country girl who refuses to continuously focus on her snatch...