Renata

CLITerally

Curiosity may have killed the cat but it’s gonna set your pussy free. So get your finger on the BUTTON cause that is just the tip of the niceberg…

I’m not here to give a big old anatomy lesson – suffice to say your clitoris is huge – you are hung like a donkey – woof woof! I am 59 and only learnt this a few years ago – how is that even possible?  It’s reasonable to not know THAT much about every organ in your body.  All our bits and pieces generally get on with their jobs without us needing to know too much about their size and/or function: liver, lungs, stomach, spleen – no need to micromanage. I am however, intimately acquainted with my clitoris –  we have a close personal relationship – unlike my colon which can go on about its’ business with only a little input from me…

Strangely the Victorians did a fair bit of research on this. Okay rewind – Victorian MEN did some ‘research’ on this and surprise, surprise wrong again. Well they got the form right – if you dissect enough women you should be able to get the size and structure correct as outlined in my 1911 ’Health and Longevity’ compendium. That being said it was determined that the clitoris was not for sexy times (solo or otherwise) but more as a handy button to relieve Victorian women from their hysteria by pelvic massage. That a corseted 19th Century woman would go to a doctor to have this ‘service’ performed is wackadoodle. By the 1920s the pussy was out of the bag – blue movies were showing vibrators being used as nature intended. STOP THE PRESSES – women of the world receiving pleasure – better make it a sin.



Feeling HYSTERICAL? the ‘doctor’ is in
The illuminati has nothing on us – prepare for the rising of the CLITORATI – coming your way…

Back to squirming our way toward cliteracy. In my ever increasing feminista library there are 2 current books on rotation full of pink pearls of wisdom.

Award winning author Emily Nagoski Ph .D brings us ‘Come as You Are’ which should be required reading for anyone with a pulse. So many miss myths get unpacked – cat’s outtathebag now! A funny honest romp through our biology, history and reassurances that we are all normal and good to go whether or not our lady bits resemble anything that you have seen and let’s face it if you’ve seen a clitoris other than your own (get a mirror and have a peak) they are probably hairless, white and photoshopped. Emily and myself have given a slight pass on the hairless representations as one can get a better look without da fuzz but rest assured we can be a hairy bunch. I am also pretty sure BIPOC peeps have genitalia but when looking for illustrative rather than porn images you would think that anyone not lily white missed the day nature was handing out bits and bobs.

My current lunchtime reading is Lucy Cooke’s ‘BITCH On the Female of the Species’. This book is pure STEALTH SCIENCE – you are so busy laughing that you don’t realize how smart you’re getting in the process.  There are countless examples of how ridiculously PATRIARCHAL science IS. Science is supposed to be ‘the pursuit and application of knowledge and understanding of the natural and social world following a systematic methodology based on evidence’ except for all the evidence that was/is continually ignored when it comes to, well anyone not in possession of a penis.  Victorian men with their sensitive egos couldn’t handle that females of ANY species much less human could be a varied bunch with different types of junk in their trunks. The clitoris was  ‘discovered’ by Italian Catholic priest, Gabriele Falloppio (1523-92) rather similar to Columbus ‘discovering’ the New World… In any case this little friend was dismissed by the physician Vesalius (the founder of modern human anatomy) as ‘this new and useless part’ and that it did not exist in ‘healthy’ women, and thought to only be found in hermaphrodites. According to the 16th century I am an unhealthy hermaphrodite – who knew… Well bring on the army of amazing women scientists who Lucy Cooke introduces us to. Their unsinkable curiosity has pulled back the ‘curtains’ on all things genitalia. From the hyenas 8 inch external clitoris with a set of sealed up fuzzy labia that give new meaning to the term ‘lady balls’, to the opossum’s forked penis which made dude science surmise that opossums must have sexy times by sticking their member up an opossum lady’s nostrils – certainly there could be no other explanation… 

I bought my first vibrator when I was in my late teens (circa 1983) at Vancouver’s Love Shop – well howdeedoodee – that’s what all the fuss was about. Fast forward a few years and I had a frequent flyer card at Womyn’s Wear – no muss – no fuss – just great info. Commercial Drive Dykes know their shit! 

French Sociologist Odile Fillod’s 3D printed clitoris.

photograph taken from wikipedia – young hairless and white – I would prefer a greater representation – fuzzy pussy, elder pussy, bipoc pussy – here kitty kitty kitty

1911 HEALTH and LONGEVITY

This text clearly illustrates that the full length and breadth of the clitoris was known back before ‘talkies’ but we never talked about it. The ‘Stepford Wife’ – that little beauty does more than vibrate…

My husband and I have been together for a coupla decades – he is not threatened by a piece of plastic – bless his little cotton socks. I want to state that I do work on keeping my plastic consumption to a minimum so rest assured my wee plastic friends are not ‘single use’ so free square for me. When I told him about how HUGE my clitoris really is he got on the bunny trail, did some research (cause he’s a curious guy) and picked up this little beauty. I dubbed her the ‘Stepford Wife’ (1975 version let’s be clear) as she is such a nice robot lady that is willing to do all the heavy lifting – bless.  A confident feminist man is not afraid of a battery and besides a little lithium is good for ya!

And now for your musical interlude. I was thinking happy clitoris thoughts when I heard Little Jackie’s song VAGINAMITE. The musical duo of Imani Coppola and Adam Pallin. Imani slams it every time – plus she swears more than me – who knew that was possible.  With lyrics like ‘…my pussy is vaginamite…’ and ‘… I’ve got explosives in my jo jo…’ you really can’t go wrong! Click here and buy it for yourself – artists gotta eat!

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Don’t be a ‘CLITiot’ take a DEEPER DIVE

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