Tested and Mother Approved
When I was just a young boy, my mom warned me not to put my fingers into the wall socket, lest I wind up a burnt and sterile old man with black fingertips and chronic impotence.

So when I was presented with the Jenna Jameson battery powered mouth-of-wonder, I was a bit skittish about inserting my 11th and largest finger into a battery operated device. Call me old fashioned, but I don't feel that my magic stick should be inserted into anything with more voltage than a nightlight or more moving parts than a yo-yo. Sorry, but that's just the way I was raised.

After a quick phone call and a little reassurance from mom (she is a nurse after all), I spewed out my nervousness and dove head first into this replica of the highest wet orifice on the lovely body of Jenna Jameson. Results were mixed, but it wasn't a total stick in the mud.

And He Goes For the Gold
Considering that I had had real sex only a few days prior to receiving this little bundle of joy, I feel that it never really had a chance to blow me away. The face is made of a quite lifelike substance, but there is just no duplicating natural wetness, and I would not suggest that anyone try to with this particular toy, considering the wires and whatnot. The device comes with a bottle of powdered lube, which feels similar to the chalk that our proud Olympic gymnasts use before hopping on a pummel horse. It's really not that bad, actually. When used without the device it feels at least as good as regular lube, but without the oily mess. Maybe our Olympic athletes know something that us artistic types don't. Just to be on the safe side, if I ever meet an Olympic gymnast, I'll make sure not to shake his hand.

As for its application with the device, I'm not as impressed. I found that it still feels like I'm rubbing my pink lightsaber against a piece of rubber, and though it feels better than sandpaper, it wasn't enough to "get the job done." In order to sufficiently supplement a blowjob, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that some sort of wetness would be necessary, and I wouldn't recommend taking this thing onto the Slip 'n Slide with you. I can't speak for Jesus directly, due to my implied excommunication from the Catholic church, but I would assume that if you die trying to wet hump a hunk of rubber molded to the specs of the world's most famous porn goddesses' upper body love hole, you will probably be sent straight to hell. So, buyer beware; you mess with the bull, you get the horns.

This product is best suited for people who have never actually received the real thing. It's kinda like what they say about chronic ecstasy users-once you have felt that euphoria, it is hard to live without it knowing that it is out there and possible.

On the other hand, this thing wasn't all closet fodder. The vibrations did feel pretty good, even if it wasn't enough to cause a major volcanic explosion. And the five settings with controllable intensity does open up a lot of possibilities if you are willing to dig deep for the one that is right for your roaring rod.

At Least It Doesn't Make Small Talk
The best news is that this thing didn't accidentally bite me once, and, since it doesn't have any teeth, I didn't have to take it to dinner first.

Personally, the old way still works for me. I think this is where technology leaves me behind, but I'm sure that for those willing to dedicate sufficient time and emotional energy into this little darling, there will be many hours of personal satisfaction. If they can somehow come up with a version 2.0 with some sort of a moisture release gland...

Hmmm. I'm full of good ideas. Maybe I've finally found my calling.