Every Thursday, I post about the things that I love, and God only knows what those things might be.
Recently, I’ve posted a few times about various sexual aides. On Thursdays, I write about things I love and while there aren’t any sexual aides I love (including you, Jenna Jamison molded vagina), I do love my friends, particularly friends like Hala who decided to send me a photo of the cream below in the hopes I might blog about it, which I’m totally going to do.
So, here I present to you Sure Grip, the vagina tightening cream.
Where to start…where to start. I’m not going to talk about the ingredients in this concoction because I don’t know what they are and I don’t want to know. For all I know, it could contain whale semen and ground up squirrel bones, which is exactly what was in the penis enlarging cream I saw at this place in San Francisco. What?
Let me just make some observations about the packaging.
Sure Grip is a horrible name.
It sounds like super glue and, last time I checked, you don’t want your lady’s vagina holding onto your penis like how that welder’s hat was stuck to the beam leaving that poor guy hanging there in the old super glue commercial. Also, I’m not sure that a vagina that “grips” anything is necessarily a good idea unless you are a naked performer with the need for a special skill.
Tighten-Her Cream is an AWFUL tagline.
Mainly, this is just poor grammar. What’s with the dash? Who proofreads this stuff? Is it “TIGHTEN-HER cream” or “tighten-her CREAM?” The second one doesn’t even make sense unless you are talking about cooking and then why put this in a sex shop? For all I know by this tagline, she’s trying to whip up a feisty meringue to top off a lemon pie and she wants those peaks whipped to perfection. Oh, yeah, I bet she wants them whipped to perfection!
What is wrong with that guy’s hair?
Is it pulled back in a pony tail because he is some skeezy porn star or what? It has streaks in it too which are either highlights, light from the flash or impending baldness. I’m not sure which is worse. While I’m on the subject of this dude, what’s up with the Don Johnson ostrich egg blue short sleeved button down? I had a shirt like that in 1984 and I wore it with a white jacket with the sleeves pushed up. But, I was like 15 and mildly retarded, so I had an excuse.
The chick isn’t wearing a wedding ring.
In virtually every ad, women wear wedding rings. This supposedly is a subliminal message about her stability or some crap like that. They have studies that show women are more apt to buy things when the women in the ads wear wedding rings. Clearly, this product, though specifically for women’s anatomy, is not aimed at them. I’m sure most women could care less whether their vagina’s are virgintastic, but a guy might want to buy this if he is feeling less than confident about his own size, particularly if his nickname is needle dick.
“Tightens your vagina as if it were your First Time.”
Again with the poor grammar. Is “First Time” a holiday? Why is it capitalized? Honestly, ladies, do you want your vagina tightened like it was your first time? I’m no expert, but I’ve heard stories that the first time isn’t the most comfortable experience ever. I know women buy all sorts of crazy creams and ointments and even inject cobra venom into their faces (I’m fairly certain it’s cobra venom), but rubbing this stuff on your baby maker is probably not the first thing you are thinking of buying when they hit the Lancome counter at Macy’s.
“For that honeymoon fit.”
I don’t even know what that means. Are they suggesting that on your honeymoon, your wife’s vagina was so tight you thought she used a cream on it? Do they think your wife had a trainer for her vagina to make it “fit” before the wedding and, if so, what exactly did this trainer do? Or, maybe they saying that all women are virgins on their wedding nights? Um, sure.
Mainly, I’m picturing the conversation between husband and wife when he brings this home for her:
Husband: Hi, honey, I’m home.
Wife: Hello, dear. How was your day?
Husband: Good and yours?
Wife: Just wonderful.
Husband: I brought you home a surprise!
Wife: Really??? What is it? Diamonds? A trip to Fiji? A diamond-crusted ticket to Fiji?
Husband: Do they even make diamond-crusted tickets?
Wife: Nevermind. What is it?
Husband: Close your eyes.
Husband: Remember our honeymoon?
Wife: In Scranton? Yes, I remember.
Husband: Nevermind Scranton. Remember our wedding night?
Husband: Remember how tight your vagina was?
Wife: Um, what?
Husband: Seriously, remember?
Husband: Now, you can have that honeymoon fit vagina all over again!
Wife: (opening eyes)
At this point, I imagine she stabs him in the genitals with a fork and threatens to rub Sure Grip on his asshole. Then there would be crying and biting and fluorescent lights would flicker and blood curdling screams would emanate throughout the house. But, then again, I tend to think of marriage like a Japanese horror film, so maybe that’s something I should work on.
Just for clarification on the Things I Love, does not include Sure Grip, however, it does include photos of Sure Grip sent to me from friends.