If intense and focused vibration is what you’ve been looking for in a g-spot toy, the Oh My G! is here for you.
If The Merry Spinster seems almost fixated on gender, it’s because Ortberg began participating in gender therapy and exploring identity while writing it, and “It turns out I’m trans!”
“Close your eyes and imagine for one moment a world where little black girls spend their entire childhoods seeing women like the ones they will become in just as many books, television shows, awards ceremonies, universities, political offices, magazines, advertisements and leadership positions as their white peers do. Really picture it, and then ask yourself: what would that future look like?”
“I almost fainted when I tasted it. Do I really need to say more? Go get this book, make everything in it, and proudly display your new membership to the Kristen Kish fan club this Valentine’s Day.”
Gurba’s writing feels devastating and holy and hilarious all at once, like a dead sea scroll that is as fun to read as an old issue of Playboy.
Today in this game I resisted the thrall of a spooky scarecrow, employed a phishing scam to talk my way through an enchanted door, rescued a chicken’s beloved egg from demons, and lured a rat with food so it would sit still long enough for a turtle to confess her love to it.
There have been a handful of women antiheroes on TV over the last few years, but what sets this show apart is the way it centers on three different queer experiences.
It’s an electric vibrator shaped like a goddamn unicorn. And it’s my new favorite. As long as I don’t want to actually use it.
In a time when the word “healing” feels thinner than ever, affixed as it is to too many pictures of skinny, silhouetted yogis on beaches, we need to reacquaint ourselves with the severity of that process. This book is a generous offering to a society that may not know what to do with it.
Lucky’s been walking a thin line. She desperately wants to maintain a relationship with her family, and especially with her mother, but she also aches to live as an out lesbian.
“By the end of the seventies, women were in fashion: every Parisian woman, gay or straight, fell in love with women as if it were the most natural thing in the world.”
I would’ve preferred “13 Reasons Why Hannah Baker Murdered Bryce Walker But Shouldn’t Go To Prison For It.”
KOKUMO blasts through the bullshit rhetoric and tokenism that too-often engulf queer and trans communities in order to expose the raw struggle to survive at their heart.
Priestdaddy, the poet’s new coming-of-age memoir, has a lot of twists and a lot of power.
Emil Ferris’s debut graphic novel, about a ten-year-old half-Mexican tomboy who is obsessed with horror films and detective comics, explores the intersection between gender, sexuality, race and class.
They’re here, at least one of them’s queer, and surprise: she’s not the one who dies! “Coady and the Creepies” rocks queer and disability representation, punk history and more.
ABC has dedicated eight primetime hours to a sweeping miniseries charting LGBT history from the ’70s ’til a few years ago and it’s pretty great except for the bad wigs.
The leather Ramona strap-on harness feels extremely sexy in a way that nylon and spandex harnesses never do.
Gay is far more honest than most about the weird ways we actually solve for love. The necessary ugliness in getting there.
“If you like to be on top during penetrative sex but you’re by yourself, the Moody and some ingenuity plus quad strength could be your solution.”