Genitology 101

It’s time to find new, improved names for our naughtybits.

WARNING: The following article contains explicit if not altogether anatomically accurate references to the male and female sexual organs, i.e. “peepies” and “hoo-haws.”

As a 40-year-old man-boy who is both bitter about no longer being in the youthful marketing demographic and infuriated/terrified by young adults, I spend a fair amount of time lurking on websites patronized by people in their late teens and early 20s. Strictly for research purposes, of course; I gotta stay up on the culture, ya know. So my web browser’s newsfeed is full of posts to sites like TextsFromLastNight, which for years has aggregated drunken, confessional and drunkenly confessional text messages in a sort of never-ending torrent of oversharing by alternately inebriated and hungover kids driven to trumpet their latest ill-advised exploits.

Obsessively reading TextsFromLastNight and its ilk, I’ve gleaned two important insights:

1. The American young adults who nurture such sites have absolutely no sense of boundaries, and 2. They don’t like any of the current slang terms for genitalia.

It’s sad, really. The libidinous partiers that post one another’s exploits on these sites seem to be expending so much time, energy and creativity in pursuit of altered states of consciousness and sexy sex (or embarrassing sex, or regrettable sex, or blackout sex) that they all default to the common, correct, boring old names for their filthy zones, e.g.:

“The air was thick with penises.”

Funny, yes. But “penis” is so … impersonal. About the only word in the English language as un-erotic as “penis” is, well, “vagina.” It sounds like a name you give your mousy, socially awkward daughter because you’re subconsciously pissed at her for cutting short your dream of training for Wimbledon. (Hell, as a moniker for one’s junk, “Wimbledon” is sexier than “penis” and “vagina” put together, no pun intended.)

If the young folks who are so interested in relating way, way, way too much information online won’t come up with some awesome new names for their awesome, hyperactive naughtybits, it’s up to us as their debauchery-seeking mentors to help provide the kind of kick-ass references their crotches deserve.

Here are a few of my nominees.

For the ladies:

Funblossom. Disarming, charming and unpretentious. Takes a lot of pressure out of the equation without seeming slutty. There’s a lot of gray area between devout monogamy and inviting strangers into a Port-O-Let for some bad decisions. Sex should, er, come with a smile.

Portugal. Exotic and uninhibited, if a bit, you know, humid. Conjures impressions of worldliness and unexplored territory. “Have you experienced Portugal by moonlight?” That’s some classy shit right there.

The Velvet Sheath. Powerful. Luxurious. Live like the 1 percent! Also, vaguely superheroine-y, which is indescribably awesome if your paramour has even slightly geeky tendencies.

Constituent Delivery System. The only name for the female reproductive organs acceptable inside the Michigan House of Representatives.

And for the gentlemen:

Goodzilla. A benevolent monster, outsized but sensitive. A leviathan do-gooder. It will protect you from other threats, yet you’ll always be extremely aware of its area-destroying potential.

Viggo Mortensen. Strikingly handsome in a unique and somehow earthy way. Known to have satisfied a rock icon for years. A born leader with an endearing fantasy roleplaying fetish and (ahem) legendary swordsmanship.

Spitwhistle. Hey, it ain’t exactly “Portugal,” but it expresses one’s erotic predilections pretty clearly, yes? Also, it sounds sort of classically English: “Fancy a solo on the ol’ spitwhistle, then?” How very bawdy, guv’nor.

I’m not saying the kids should immediately adopt any or all of these references. I’m just hoping these terms will at least inspire them to come up with something of their own. Anything is better than “penis” or “vagina.” If anyone needs any more convincing toward that end, I’ll leave you with this: That’s probably how your grandparents talked about the blessed fleshy instruments of their union. While they were doing it.

Oh, and young men — if you absolutely must name the residents of your joybag, you could do a lot worse than Tango & Cash.

Read more Scott Harrell at Follow him at


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