On behalf of single girls everywhere, let me be the millionth person to say it: Valentine’s Day sucks. For on this unholiest (seriously, Google St. Valentine–it’s fucked) of days, we are yet again reminded of how alone we are. How painstakingly, bitterly, helplessly, hopelessly, might-just-get-a cat-and-get-it-over-with alone we are. We’re forced to fawn over Instagrams of Walmart roses, favorite #bestboyfriendever tweets, and comment on disgustingly awful “Love you babe!!!!!!! Happy V Day!!!! <33333333333” statuses. While our coupled friends spend their evening sipping champagne and eating chocolate covered strawberries, our night will consist of eating a Lean Cuisine over the sink like some sort of ferret, and chugging cheap wine while we watch “House Hunters International” and drunk text our rightfully concerned mothers. As the night comes to a close and we’re once again 364 days away from the worst day of the year, our friends in relationships will stumble home and fall into a messily made bed. A few sloppy kisses, some pumps, and a fully satisfied man later, our lady friends will be left frustrated and annoyed with a snoring partner in “Scooby-Doo” sheets. But us? Our night will end with us washing our faces, applying our anti-aging cream, pouring another glass of wine, and climbing into bed with our partner. A few batteries, some buzzes, and some oooooomyGODs later, and we’ll pass out in a blissful, single slumber. No bed sharing, no snoring, just sleep. Beautiful, uninterrupted sleep. Singles: 1. Girls in relationships: 0.
According to statistics, one out of every three women in America owns a vibrator–and quite frankly, I think that’s kind of bullshit. Maybe I hang out with some sexually frustrated people, but I literally do not know one girl who does not own one. Honestly, to not have one is to hate yourself. A once taboo subject, sex toys are now incredibly mainstream and…normal. With national retailers like Target selling vibrating condoms and commercials during primetime TV for erectile dysfunction and pocket vibrators, love sex is literally in the air. And so, in the spirit of Valentine’s Day and promoting #selflove, we here at the TSM Headquarters thought that it would be funny to take a look back on the history of every gal’s favorite toy.
Ancient Egypt: The Original Buzz
According to historians, Cleopatra filled gourds with angry bees in an effort to get off. Ladies, don’t try this at home.
200 AD: Bitches Be Cray
Women experiencing depression, uncontrollable sadness, moodiness, and irritability were diagnosed with “hysteria,” i.e. sexual frustration.
17th Century: Let Me Touch You For A While
Doctors in the mid 1600s massaged their patients’ nether regions using oils and herbs until they reached a “paroxysm,” which is really just a fancy word for orgasm. Too bad Bravo didn’t exist during the Renaissance. “The Real Housewives of Scurvy” could’ve been some quality entertainment.
19th Century: Crank One Out
The Pulsocon Hand Crank was invented by a doctor in 1890. Women “suffering” from “hysteria” would make appointments with their general practitioner to actually get off. The toy, or tool as it once was, was hand cranked by the doctor until his “patient” saw God–or at least screamed his name.
1960s: Let Me Give You A Hand
For women who weren’t quite into operating heavy machinery or having to leave their home, the Oster Stim-U-Lax offered an alternative. Gamers be damned, this is a real handheld device.
Modern Day: #LoveYourself
The options are endless, really: the rabbit ears, the egg, the bullet. As Donna Meagle from “Parks and Recs” says, “Treat yo self.”
[via I’m single, duh.]