I'm not usually one to masturbate in the tub, mainly because that means I'd have to use my hands, and my arms would get tired. (What it boils down to is that I'm very lazy.) I've tried some other waterproof vibes in the bathtub before, with varying results, but I'm always looking for the easiest solutions to life's little problems, so I was enthusiastic about the Fukuoku. That enthusiasm didn't last long.

First of all, when I turned it on, I got freaked out, because the noise the vibes made sounded like a swarm of futuristic alien insects flying toward me. It sounded even weirder when I wiggled my fingers. (I guess I couldn't hear it on the convention floor since everything was so loud there.) But whatever, I plunged it down there and moved it around different parts of my vulva to see where it felt best, not wanting to put it directly on my clit before it had the chance to warm up a bit. I could tell within 20 seconds that it was gonna suck. The vibes moved way too fast and steady, even when switching up the settings. There was no interruption or variation, so the vibration almost became like white noise — something mildly annoying that you learn to ignore.

I figured that I wouldn't give up on it yet, and that I'd try it out with some visual aids. So I got out of the tub, dried myself off, got in bed, and started watching some videos on XTube. (If you get the chance, you should watch this one, not because it's hot but because it's really funny. It's these college kids in a room at a party and drunk people keep coming in and interrupting them. NSFW, natch.) That plan didn't work out too well. I couldn't get anywhere even in the neighborhood of an orgasm with it. And on top of that, my fingers started going numb from the steady vibe.

I took off the Fukuoku, threw it across the room — it's so not worth $50! — and grabbed my trusty Hitachi. Will they ever make something that rivals the best vibe in the world?

J.Lo Glow
I'll never understand why J.Lo gets lumped into that "kinda whorey" category, unless it's because that no matter what else she does, her big butt will always be more famous than the rest of her. She acts and sings and is married and stuff, but her perfume line is probably the aspect of her career that stands the best chance at eventually eclipsing her notorious badonk. It's larger and more successful than those of any of her peers', putting it more on par with Elizabeth Taylor's perfume line than say, Britney's. 'Glow' was the one that started it all, and after smelling its uncomplicated, shampooey bouquet of white flowers, it's easy to see why people love this. This is the kind of stuff you spray on when you're making eggs for your boyfriend in sweatpants on a Sunday morning; a fragrance that is so ubiquitously fresh, pretty, and inoffensive that it can be worn by almost anyone in any age bracket. There's nothing even a little whorey about it, which is probably the only reason I wouldn't buy it.

Heiress by Paris Hilton
It's too bad there aren't more heiresses in the world, because the thought of anyone spending a penny of any money they have earned by actually working on this perfume makes me want to toss my fruity cocktail all over my $19.99 Lucite Joyce Leslie stilettos. Wait, maybe I already did? Because something sure smells like it. Specifically, it smells like a juicy hunk of pineapple dipped in Splenda got drunk on like seventy Bellinis and had sex in the coatroom surrounded by a camera crew composed entirely of rotting honeydew melons. I can understand that Paris Hilton doesn't give a fuck (or at least she didn't before Jesus became her plus-one!), but this perfume makes me wonder if she understands that millions of young girls now wholeheartedly believe she smells like this.

With Love... Hilary Duff
After you get past the initial, "Wheee! Snorting Pixy Stix makes me and all my friends sooo hyper!!!" blast of tropical fruit, there's a surprising and—dare I say—precocious little kick of incense, amber, and spices to this scent. The bottle is adorable, too: Simple faceted glass detailed with gold cord that wouldn't appear particularly out of place on a grown-ass woman's vanity table. If Duff often seems and younger and more wholesome than her naughtier, higher-profile peers, her perfume conversely smells both older and less wholesome (in a good way) than theirs do. Do people ever tell you you're a good kid, Hilary? I bet they do, but I'll say it again: You're a good kid, and you've somehow managed to make your perfume smell like a shameless invitation for all the long, hard, deep, sweaty, throbbing sexual intercourse you are purportedly not having. I'm into it. I'd wear this.

Sarah Jessica Parker Lovely
Musk 101: In perfume, a synthetic musk note does not smell like what most people think of as "musky," which I think is often confused with the scent of patchouli or oak moss. An entry-level musk, like SJP Lovely, smells a lot more like laundry detergent than hippie armpit. The musk in this fragrance is specifically Egyptian Musk, a clean, gentle version tricked out in this case with white flowers and a sharp tartness that is referred to in the official fragrance notes as "green appletini." Whether you love or hate Old Horseface, this is a pretty coherent and serious fragrance, and I'd hate for just-out-of-the-shower types to be turned off by either the idea of musk, or by SJP herself. In fact, my favorite thing about Lovely is that it smells good enough to cancel out the effects of her crappy clothing line and the enduring cloyingness of SATC in syndication, which is to say it actually warrants disregarding SJP entirely, which is something I've been dying to do for a very very long time.