When Sex Toys at Babeland. offered reviewers a sample of the Go Girl, I jumped up and volunteered. I remember as a child envying little boys who could pee outside without dripping all over themselves, as I did if I crouched in the bushes. (This only got worse as I matured, I found.)
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I grew up thinking it would be fun to have a penis, so much easier to take hikes and bicycle rides. The opportunity for poison oak/ivy was also much less with a penis to pee with, and you didn’t need a toilet paper substitute like that old, linty tissue in your pocket.
Plus boys could just turn around and take 10 seconds, and they were done, while I had to find a safe, private spot, take down my pants, and end up peeing on my sock, rolled-down pant leg, or thigh.
As an adult, I could be found frequently hovering over public restroom toilets, not daring to sit even with the slim paper protection of the seat covers. I developed my quadriceps nicely through aerobics and step classes, but gosh, wouldn’t it be nice if I could just stand up and pee?
Other than that, my genital configuration has always suited me just fine — although I sometimes said to Robert, admiring his splendid, masculine attributes, “I don’t know how you get any work done. If I had one of those, I’d play with it all day.”
Back to my new toy. The Go Girl is not a penis substitute, but it is designed to let my woman parts pee standing up. It’s a very flexible (too flexible, but we’ll get to that in a moment), rubbery, silicone thing with a sort of ear trumpet shape — a big cup-like shape at one end and a spout at the other.
I have to admit I haven’t mastered the Go Girl yet, but I’m having so much fun with it that I couldn’t delay my review just because I’m a klutz. I had the sense to get in the shower for my first time, and all went well.
The second time, I made several mistakes:
1. I didn’t pay enough attention to the instruction page, which explains how to hold and how not to hold it. I was holding it wrong and it fit loosely, no “seal” which is supposed to happen at the back.
2. I thought I had mastered it enough to stand facing the toilet and aim.
3. I needed to pee really badly. I didn’t think about that translating to the amount of pee trying to pass through the narrow spout.
OK, do I need to spell it out? The rush was too great for the Go Girl’s small spout, the thing collapsed, and I splashed all over the place. Fortunately, I was home, so no public restroom was sacrificed to my experiment.
Hey, it’s a novelty item. It’s not meant to save the world. But it is fun, and maybe I’ll master it well enough to take it with me on a hike or a visit to a truly scary public restroom. Not yet, though. Recommended for the fun factor, and a cool, inexpensive ($12) gift for a woman who enjoys the great outdoors, even those parts that don’t have rest rooms.
Thank you, Babeland., for the opportunity to review the Go Girl!/p>
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This looks like a winner of a product. My mom was a flyer starting around 1938. Many airstrips has 0 amenities. Once she was asked if she had had any acidents while flying. She responded, “In what regard? I can’t tinkle into a coke bottle like you!” There is an untold story there, even with piolit aids for women.