Were You Freakishly Old When You Figured Out How To Come? Make The Memoirist Feel Better..

We're Catholic, so sort of the same way we say Hail Marys when we hear sirens we felt compelled, when we heard news of the woman shopping around the memoir of her lifelong failure to achieve an orgasm, to partake in a sort of "There But For The Grace Of God.." ritual and no we're not telling you if that ritual entailed removing SafeSearch from our Google preferences. Anyhow! So what the fuck is this chick's problem? "At a certain point, the idea of the book deal must have been more important than being sexually satisfied," theorized one of our buddies. But only because she had no idea that a low six figure advance is just so totally not worth it. The point is, while we'd like to dis this book, it'll probably be fairly well-written, since she's probably just thinking too hard, which would put her in very scant company among writers of bestsellers these days. But what of its climax? (Doh.) Look: we were pitifully late when we figured it out, too. And so were most of our slutty friends. We're here to help.

We were the eldest Jezebel to figure out how to come on command, at the embarrassing age of 25, after our friend bought us a purple vibrator from some crappy store as a present for finishing a story on our short-lived career as a phone sex operator. So healthy, us! Anyway, since then we have lost approximately nine driver's licenses, three passports, eighty nine credit cards, a birth certificate and twelve BlackBerrys but we are still hanging onto that magical plastic cure for our hysteria, and also: cleaning it often. The other Jezebelles ranged from the, um, admirably precocious (two clocked in between the ages of 8 and 10: Joey Lawrence voice: "Whoa!") to the normal (17), though our sluttiest blogosphere friend had the same story: age 24, vibrator purchase, voila. A journalist slut we know, 25 at the age of awakening, was the only late bloomer who credited a particularly astute boyfriend, the 22nd dude she had slept with. The twenty-second: could be your charm, Mara!

A fun fact: while most late-bloomers blamed the fact that they were reared assuming masturbation was shameful, they were even more shameful about not coming to the conclusion that it wasn't shameful earlier. Seriously, everyone who reported an age higher than 16 (the interns, some random Crap Email senders, our college buddies) worried it was "freakishly old." Meanwhile, the early bloomers mostly credited curiosity, boredom, "dry humping", and high school boyfriends with absentee parents for their good fortune.

Anyway, our theory is this: you know how they say the universe is absurd? We read once that the female orgasm has no evolutionary purpose. But somehow orgasms involve sex, which is the foundation of life and to which we're taught to attach all this meaning and symbolism and thought, "meaning" and "symbolism" and "thought" being, of course, the world's three great bonerkillers. In other words, lady, writing this book = not the answer. As Jennie pointed out: "If it were me writing the book I would probably get too focused on the book and wouldn't want sex." Thankfully, the secular world has an answer for all your needs, and that would be Adderall. Get a prescription, finish your book early, and get poking. Meanwhile, let our readers make you feel better!

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