Sexpo '06

The poster advertising Sexpo was of a girl trying to look seductive whilst clanking a pair of metal loveballs between her fingers...

Well, therefore Dave and I just had to go!

We arrived and were greated by a young woman whose clothes had just recently fallen off. Still she was being quite good humoured about it all. She was still allowing people to be photographed with her. She not once knocked back a young spotty teenagers request for piccy. Gosh, some of these people are professional to the end!

We were then cloaked in the underworld of the perverse and seventeen year old students. Aisle upon aisle of dildos and wipe clean nurses uniforms greeted us. For the record, I have always been an advocate of wipe clean uniforms. There would be no more cross contamination between patients. Nurses would be able to just wipe off those nasty blood/poo/wee stains without resorting to having to wear someone elses uniform or borrowing theatre greens. Infection rates would be radically reduced and the uniforms would never need ironing!

Daves mates went with us and they literally dragged us up and down each aisle several times. I don't know about you lot but after the first three shops of purple, pink, spotty and glittery vibrators, I developed penis apathy. Any guy could have run up to me, dropped his pants and waggled his todger at me and I would have looked to my right at some magnificent display of porno stars replicas and sighed at his under-acheiver! Once you've seen one rabbit eared, beady-bumpy-bit, willy shaped vibrator, you've seen them all.

There were live shows to alleviate the apathy somewhat. A lovely young lady named Arianna Starr (I suspect, not her real name) danced around in thigh high silver glittery boots and a turquiose leather mini skirt, boob tube and fur lined cape that my Barbie wore back in 1985. Little by little she lost her skirt, cape and top leaving her remarkable boobs displayed high on her chest (much like my Barbie used to...).



I always knew my Barbie was a stripper!

When it came to the young man dancing and stripping, I turned into an old granny. I couldn't stop giggling and whooping at his leather trouser/waistcoat combo. And the way he continued to mime the words (with a mouth that looked like it housed no teeth) to every eighties rock 'bighair' song led me to believe that these boys aren't there for the girls to go mad with pheromones. They are there to show us that blokes will always make a complete twat of themselves in order to try and land a bird!



However, he did have an actual, real live six pack (TM). I may have reconsider.......

Next came the weird guy in the corner wearing nothing but a white coat. He is the world renowned 'Penile Artiste'. I thought he just painted pictures of blokes willies.

How I was wrong....

He paints using the only trusted tool of the male species.

This is one guy that never pees on the seat!

I especially loved his painting of John Howard...ie a painting of a cock...painted by a cock!

Dave and I soon tired of the naked women/men and men using their willies as paintbrushes and wandered around some more.

That was when we stumbled upon the


' BIG MASSIVE RUBBER FIST'



...it's there. You just have to look amongst the many many rubber cocks to find it! (Also check out the the expressive stare of the man through the cabinet...he's not in awe at all!)

After discovering that and staring at the seventy centimetre purple rubber willy until I saw stars, finding a grown man riding a pink knob-broncho didn't affect me at all...



...much!