It's a great time to be alive, and not only because technological advances have made rectal thermometers obsolete. (Sorry, I still marvel at the new ones that they just wave in front of your forehead; swipe -- it's as easy now to get a temperature read as it is to get cash.)I remain optimistic in spite of the stories that dominate the news. War, famine, oppression, crime, toppling cruise ships, and the latest and, possibly, most distressing report, that the G-spot is a myth. Apparently, some of the best and brightest scientists, using all sorts of "objects" (hmm) and even plain old fingers, have been unable to find any evidence of the miraculous button that can lead to all sorts of wild and joyful explosions in a woman's body. Talk about a buzz kill.
These same geniuses, who have neglected to even consider the pleasures involved in the endless search for the elusive pot of gold, have also hypothesized (without any real scientific study or, um, hard empirical evidence, that all penises -- except those belonging to porn stars -- are pretty much the same size. Well, I don't know what kind of "yardstick" they're using but I'm thinking maybe the sample of "objects" used in the G-spot research was not statistically relevant. Maybe there's just a certain amount of tissue allocated to men for brains and penis, and maybe the men at Yale (where the recent study was conducted) just get a disproportionate share allocated to gray matter. I'm no scientist, but I'm thinking if they conducted the study at your average fifth tier school they might just find evidence of an entire alphabet's worth of spots.
Whatever the outcome, I still think it's a great time to be alive. G-spot research is as grant worthy as cancer research, Sarah Palin is back in the news, and the blackout that may have affected my search for Google images yesterday is over. At least I can amuse myself scanning pictures that might, er, enhance this post.
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