The Clitoral Truth

If you really want to please a woman, learn about her hidden anatomy. Read, The Clitoral Truth by Rebecca Chalker which details the FULL anatomy of a woman’s sexual system which is usually omitted from medical literature.

From “The Clitoral Truth” (and a link to a very detailed blog with photos to understand further. http://blog.museumofsex.com/the-internal-clitoris)

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If you were to remove the top layer of skin and visible structures of the clitoris, it would reveal numerous hidden structures, which Mary Jane Sherfey referred to as the “powerhouse of orgasm.” These structures include erectile tissue, glands, muscles, blood vessels, and nerves. In both the clitoris and the penis, there are two types of erectile tissue: body of caverns (corpus cavernosum) and spongy body (corpus spongiosum), which fill with blood during sexual response, causing an erection.

The clitoral shaft is attached to the glans, just underneath the surface of the skin. The shaft is a round fibrous segment of spongy erectile tissue, and like the glans, it is very sensitive. If you roll your finger back and forth just above the glans during sexual response, you should be able to feel a hard ridge about one-half to one inch long, and about the diameter of a soda straw, and rises toward the pubic mound for a short distance, then bends sharply and divides, forming two slender legs or crura (Latin for “legs”), which are also composed of spongy tissue. The legs of the clitoris flare out somewhat like the wishbone of a chicken.

 

Underneath the inner lips are twin bulbs of cavernous erectile tissue. During sexual response these structures fill with blood, which then becomes trapped in their cryptic spaces, causing erection.

 

In both women and men, the urethra (the tube through which we urinate), is surrounded by a ring of spongy erectile tissue that is identical to the type of erectile tissue, corpus spongiosum, that surrounds the penis. In women, the urethra is about two inches long, and runs from the bladder to the urethral opening just above the opening to the vagina. “In nearly all of the modern anatomy books that we looked at, the erectile tissue surrounding the urethra was missing,” Carol Downer says. “Although it is clearly analogous to the spongy tissue which surrounds the urethra in men, it hasn’t been considered a part of the clitoris for several hundred years. Since it had no name in women, we decided to name it the urethral sponge.”

 

The urethral sponge is a very significant part of the clitoral system. Embedded in its spongy erectile tissue are up to thirty or more tiny prostatic-like glands that produce an alkaline fluid similar in its constitution to the male prostatic fluid. Two of the largest, called Skene’s glands, are near the urethral opening, where the urine comes out, but numerous others are buried in the spongy tissue surrounding the urethra. All of these glands together are referred to as paraurethral glands, meaning “around the urethra,” and they are the source of female ejaculation. Normally, the sponge is collapsed and is difficult to feel, but during sexual response, if you or your partner puts a finger in your vagina and presses toward the pubic mound, you can feel a rough nugget about the length of the first one or two finger joints; that is the urethral sponge. When the sponge is filled with blood, i.e., erect, many women find that it is extremely sensitive to stroking, thrusting, or vibration inside of the vagina. The “G spot” is located on the part of the urethral sponge that can be felt through the vaginal wall.

 

 

The Death of me

Oh goodness. Save me from myself. I’ve discovered Pintrest.

I’ve heard many-a-female mention Pintrest. I even briefly visited the site a year or so ago. I didn’t think much of it, mostly due to the fact I wasn’t sure how to use it or how applicable it was to my life. It seemed unnecessary and even perhaps, a waste of time. Isn’t that what 90% of the internet is anyway? By twist of fate, a few weeks ago a girlfriend sat me in front of her enormous iMac screen and explained what was up with bookmarks gone wild, aka Pintrest. Since then I’ve been buried in a sea of never ending ideas… just when I thought I couldn’t fit anymore time zapping activities into my schedule. Nope. I was wrong. So, now any leisure time has turned into scouring for recipes, interior design ideas for a future home, and an array of pointless-but-must-keep-scrolling information.

Pointless such as…
http://pinterest.com/pin/142144931961138062/. Who wouldn’t want to snow camp in an inflatable igloo?! And this gem… http://pinterest.com/pin/87890630199768103/. I may not have children, but I enjoy a good glow stick idea anytime!

There is credit to be given for some of the wonderful things I’ve found. Mostly recipes, mind you. That is the one “board” I truly intend to look back on and utilize. See… http://pinterest.com/pin/437975132481968892/ FUCK YES… and… http://pinterest.com/pin/175921929165638885/ OMFG-get-in-my-mouth.

Otherwise, my life looks either impossibly busy or very bleak as I pile on an endless to do list of fabulous things I’ll never get to do, see, taste, or experience. Who can I talk to about increasing the number of hours in a day?

 

Excerpt from my favorite book about what you put in your mouth, In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan.

A bit about nutrition from my favorite book about food.

Excerpted from IN DEFENSE OF FOOD by Michael Pollan. Reprinted by arrangement with The Penguin Press, a member of Penguin Group (USA), Inc. Copyright (c) Michael Pollan, 2008.

Food Science’s Golden Age

In the years following the 1977 Dietary Goals and the 1982 National Academy of Sciences report on diet and cancer, the food industry, armed with its regulatory absolution, set about reengineering thousands of popular food products to contain more of the nutrients that science and government had deemed the good ones and fewer of the bad. A golden age for food science dawned. Hyphens sprouted like dandelions in the supermarket aisles: low-fat, no-cholesterol, high-fiber. Ingredients labels on formerly two- or three-ingredient foods such as mayonnaise and bread and yogurt ballooned with lengthy lists of new additives — what in a more benighted age would have been called adulterants. The Year of Eating Oat Bran — also known as 1988 — served as a kind of coming-out party for the food scientists, who succeeded in getting the material into nearly every processed food sold in America. Oat bran’s moment on the dietary stage didn’t last long, but the pattern now was set, and every few years since then, a new oat bran has taken its star turn under the marketing lights. (Here come omega-3s!)

You would not think that common food animals could themselves be rejiggered to fit nutritionist fashion, but in fact some of them could be, and were, in response to the 1977 and 1982 dietary guidelines as animal scientists figured out how to breed leaner pigs and select for leaner beef. With widespread lipophobia taking hold of the human population, countless cattle lost their marbling and lean pork was repositioned as “the new white meat” — tasteless and tough as running shoes, perhaps, but now even a pork chop could compete with chicken as a way for eaters to “reduce saturated fat intake.” In the years since then, egg producers figured out a clever way to redeem even the disreputable egg: By feeding flaxseed to hens, they could elevate levels of omega-3 fatty acids in the yolks.

Aiming to do the same thing for pork and beef fat, the animal scientists are now at work genetically engineering omega-3 fatty acids into pigs and persuading cattle to lunch on flaxseed in the hope of introducing the blessed fish fat where it had never gone before: into hot dogs and hamburgers.

But these whole foods are the exceptions. The typical whole food has much more trouble competing under the rules of nutritionism, if only because something like a banana or an avocado can’t quite as readily change its nutritional stripes. (Though rest assured the genetic engineers are hard at work on the problem.) To date, at least, they can’t put oat bran in a banana or omega-3s in a peach. So depending on the reigning nutritional orthodoxy, the avocado might either be a high-fat food to be assiduously avoided (Old Think) or a food high in monounsaturated fat to be embraced (New Think). The fate and supermarket sales of each whole food rises and falls with every change in the nutritional weather while the processed foods simply get reformulated and differently supplemented. That’s why when the Atkins diet storm hit the food industry in 2003, bread and pasta got a quick redesign (dialing back the carbs; boosting the proteins) while poor unreconstructed potatoes and carrots were left out in the carbohydrate cold. (The low-carb indignities visited on bread and pasta, two formerly “traditional foods that everyone knows,” would never have been possible had the imitation rule not been tossed out in 1973. Who would ever buy imitation spaghetti? But of course that is precisely what low-carb pasta is.)

A handful of lucky whole foods have recently gotten the “good nutrient” marketing treatment: The antioxidants in the pomegranate (a fruit formerly more trouble to eat than it was worth) now protect against cancer and erectile dysfunction, apparently, and the omega-3 fatty acids in the (formerly just fattening) walnut ward off heart disease. A whole subcategory of nutritional science — funded by industry and, according to one recent analysis,* remarkably reliable in its ability to find a health benefit in whatever food it has been commissioned to study — has sprung up to give a nutritionist sheen (and FDA-approved health claim) to all sorts of foods, including some not ordinarily thought of as healthy. The Mars Corporation recently endowed a chair in chocolate science at the University of California at Davis, where research on the antioxidant properties of cacao is making breakthroughs, so it shouldn’t be long before we see chocolate bars bearing FDA-approved health claims. (When we do, nutritionism will surely have entered its baroque phase.) Fortunately for everyone playing this game, scientists can find an antioxidant in just about any plant-based food they choose to study.

Yet as a general rule it’s a whole lot easier to slap a health claim on a box of sugary cereal than on a raw potato or a carrot, with the perverse result that the most healthful foods in the supermarket sit there quietly in the produce section, silent as stroke victims, while a few aisles over in Cereal the Cocoa Puffs and Lucky Charms are screaming their newfound “whole-grain goodness” to the rafters. Watch out for those health claims.

 

Panama City. The verdict.

Panama. It’s a city of contrasts, both in people and surroundings. It’s vibrant and lush. It’s dirty and clean, all at the same time. Decrepit slums exist within a stones throw from multimillion dollar homes. In short, it’s a hot mess… and I like it!

I spent the majority of time exploring culinary delights and apartment shopping, but from what I can tell about my soon to be new home… I will never be bored. Apart from the usual consumer driven fare, the landscape is diverse and the adventures are numerous.

One particular day my friends and I decided to make our way to a ferry that would shuttle us to a nearby island. We expected to spend the day at a tropical oasis. Instead, we missed the ferry, took a taxi to the closest beach and proceeded to traverse the muddy low tide landscape in order to make it to water. As we walked across the mud the onlooking locals laughed and giggled at the silly gringos. Little did we know this was considered one of the worst beaches in Panama. I can confidently attest to this. After nearly all were covered in mud, bitten by small crabs hiding under dirt, and a foot was lacerated by a sharp hidden rock we turned back and walked to shore. Well, one of us hobbled with a bleeding foot anyway. After sanitizing the wound and drinking cold fresh coconut water straight from the coconut, we took a taxi back to our rental penthouse. Defeated, but with lasting memories… possibly lasting bacterial infections.

 

Sexy, Consuming, Devastating… Passion. (blog)

From Anias Nin’s journal:

As June walked towards me from the darkness of the garden into the light of the door, I saw for the first time the most beautiful woman on earth. A startlingly white face, burning dark eyes, a face so alive I felt it would consume itself before my eyes. Years ago I tried to imagine a true beauty; I created in my mind an image of just such a woman. I had never seen her until last night. Yet I knew long ago the phosphorescent color of her skin, her huntress profile, the evenness of her teeth. She is bizarre, fantastic, nervous, like someone in a high fever. Her beauty drowned me. As I sat before her, I felt I would do anything she asked of me. Henry suddenly faded. She was color and brilliance and strangeness. By the end of the evening I had extricated myself from her power. She killed my admiration by her talk. Her talk. The enormous ego, false, weak, posturing. She lacks the courage of her personality, which is sensual, heavy with experience. Her role alone preoccupies her. She invents dramas in which she always stars. I am sure she creates genuine dramas, genuine chaos and whirlpools of feelings, but I feel that her share in it is a pose. That night, in spite of my response to her, she sought to be whatever she felt I wanted her to be. She is an actress every moment. I cannot grasp the core of June.

I wanted to run out and kiss her fantastic beauty and say: “June, you have killed my sincerity too. I will never know again who I am, what I am, what I love, what I want. Your beauty has drowned me, the core of me. You carry away with you a part of me reflected in you. When your beauty struck me, it dissolved me. Deep down, I am not different from you. I dreamed you, I wished for your existence. You are the woman I want to be. I see in you that part of me which is you. I feel compassion for your childish pride, for your trembling unsureness, your dramatization of events, your enhancing of the loves given to you. I surrender my sincerity because if I love you it means we share the same fantasies, the same madnesses.”