Orgasms and you, a love story
Pleasure with a purpose.
THE ESTABLISHMENT IS THROWING A HOLIDAY PARTY!
TRUE STORIES OF HOLIDAY SPLENDOR, SORROW, SEX, AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN.
THURSDAY DECEMBER 14
421 Bryant St.
If you celebrated Thanksgiving, I hope you are full.
Of turkey, Tofurkey, effervescent water, wine, pumpkin pie, all things apple, fireside naps, three-hour-long reading sessions, civilized political discourse (although perhaps this is like the tooth fairy — a lovely thought but decidedly a fantasy), flag football in the sun, Jenga, long hugs of hello and goodbye . . .
all the things that fill your cup.
I hope you are rested and loved.
We’re so thankful for all of you.
(WHICH IS WHY WE’RE EXTRA SUPER EXCITED TO OFFER YOU A JUICY VIBRATOR DISCOUNT BELOW!)
With love + rage,
Co-founder | Creative Director
‘We Are Too Rare’: The Dire Importance Of Inclusivity Behind Spike Lee’s ‘She’s Gotta Have It’ Reboot
By Katie Tandy
‘This narrative is still relevant thirty years later and means a lot to me personally,’ says Janis Vogel, assistant editor on “She’s Gotta Have It.”
As part of the next generation of filmmakers I want to continue this conversation, and want to challenge all media to continue pushing the boundaries and shattering the narrow viewpoints that perpetuate a toxic environment. Spike wants to challenge the status quo, and continuously states that Nola is just one woman’s story and there is room for many more.
I can’t wait to experience the heated debates the show will inspire knowing that I was a part of making the world talk about black women, race, gender, slavery, Trump — and so much more, everything that must never be swept under the proverbial rug.’
By Katelyn Burns
I parked my car in my closed garage and waited. I left no note. No one save my wife would have possibly guessed why I did it. As I sat there, waiting for the end, I was more troubled than relaxed.
A woman’s voice, my inner voice I had long suppressed, was screaming at me in my head. “You’re a woman! What are you doing? You can fix this!” the voice said. Just then a fateful text from my mother dinged on my phone; she wanted to know if I was okay. She saved my life.
THIS WONDERFUL, FASCINATING, AND IMPORTANT NEWSLETTER WAS BROUGHT TO YOU BY
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By Sincere Kirabo
Due to the influx of men being exposed for predatory behavior, there have been many men who respond with victim-blaming sentiments (“It’s your fault, so it’s your problem,” “why are you only saying something now?” and so on), or excusing the deluge of revelations as being “witch hunts” (suggesting there is no real problem), or stating these cases are anomalies and that they do not represent common attitudes or behaviors (#NotAllMen).
These kinds of reactions mimic how many white people misidentify root issues of racism and decide that race relations are now “worse than ever” simply because racial injustice is more difficult to ignore.
By The Bad Advisor
Definitely tell your parents that you intend to abandon them in the hour of their demise! They’ll really appreciate it and you’ll feel great about reminding a couple of 60-somethings that they will soon die in a hell of their own making, a fact that will be a big surprise to them. Absolutely tell them that they’re going to die alone, at length and in agony, because you don’t approve of their lifestyles.
Do it sooner rather than later, so you can spend the maximum duration of the long, perfect, healthy life that you are 100 percent guaranteed to have appreciating the fact that you told the people you love and accept that their terrible deaths are their own fault.
By Katie Tandy
My grandmother stalked a kitchen brimming with the smoke of Virginia Slims and Marlboros; every one of her children smoked. My mother chopped carrots; my aunt dashed paprika on deviled eggs; my uncles finished polishing the silver and gave me knowing glances. Grey ash was expertly flicked from every finger to the beat of a frantic heart.
I promised myself I’d never have holidays like this. I’d never curse and sweat and vacuum and sigh and be so tired by the serving of the meal I could barely taste it before dividing everything into Tupperware and the dishwasher.
I promised myself that I’d skip the goddamn holidays entirely. I could think of nothing sicker than creating rituals that sacrificed yourself on an altar of your own making.