By Dr. Susan Block It’s our 23rd year of lawfully wedded love and lust, and Capt’n Max and I start the celebration early, just the two of us “partying like bonobos” in bed, climaxing in each other’s arms, the arms we’ve gotten to know so well but, happily, never tired of, lo these 23+ years. Wild and kinky as we are, we’re also very much married, sharing and being “witnesses” to each other’s lives, creating and constantly recreating the romance that just seems to deepen and grow between us as we age. But no couple is an island. Certainly, we aren’t! As much as we cherish our two-way intimacy, we need our Bonoboville community to keep us from going insane or letting our monogamy turn to monotony. One reason our “monogamish” (with a hat tip to Dan Savage and the forthcoming Tao Ruspoli film of that name) marriage seems to work is that we share our love, lust and romance with our Bonoboville of friends, lovers and interesting strangers.

It’s our 21st wedding anniversary! Finally, our marriage is old enough to drink in California. So what else is there to do but throw a big old bacchanalian celebration of “monogamish” love, lust and healthy, good-natured debauchery? Probably a lot of things, like say, see your doctor, slow down, retire, act your age, make out your will, etc. But maybe one of the secrets to Pr. Max’s and my marital longevity is that we’ve never acted our age or “grown up” at all. We are perpetually at play—with each other, with our Bonoboville friends and lovers and with you, my darling reader—and so the momentous occasion of our 21st anniversary turns into one big orgiastic, star-studded play-fest to the collective merriment of all.

Education is power, and sex education is sexual power. Why do we need a good sex education? Because repression relies on ignorance. We need education in the sexual sciences to counter damaging, sometimes deadly superstitions and misinformation. We need education in the sexual arts to help improve our erotic lives and keep our families intact. We need education in sexual psychology and philosophy to help us determine our true sexual nature and cultivate it in a fulfilling, ethical manner.

It’s my birthday! Many years ago (I won’t say how many—I don’t want to shock you), I emerged…I wish I could say it was from my Mom’s vagina, but I was a Cesarean. Maybe that’s why I’m bisexual: trying to crawl into a vagina so I can emerge from it, born again…

It’s our 21st wedding anniversary! Finally, our marriage is old enough to drink in California. So what else is there to do but throw a big old bacchanalian celebration of “monogamish” love, lust and healthy, good-natured debauchery? Probably a lot of things, like say, see your doctor, slow down, retire, act your age, make out your will, etc. But maybe one of the secrets to Pr. Max’s and my marital longevity is that we’ve never acted our age or “grown up” at all. We are perpetually at play—with each other, with our Bonoboville friends and lovers and with you, my darling reader—and so the momentous occasion of our 21st anniversary turns into one big orgiastic play-fest to the collective merriment of all. To continue reading the blog about this show, Click Here! To watch this show now, Click Here!

Masturbation Month 2012 comes to a climactic grand, screaming finale with a Memorial Day Weekend bare booby salute and exhortation for “Masturbation Not Occupation” in my Womb Room. Sexperts join sexpots, from Persia by way of Toronto to Florida, New York and the soul of Dowtown LA, bringing today an intriguing assortment of masturbation researchers, comedians, therapists, porn stars, pussy poppers, booty shakers, Chinese dissidents and American revolutionaries on this lugubrious war holiday mixed with a celebration of self-pleasure. Praise be to the art of self love and let us relish it for all seasons. Lay down your arms and use your fingers. Huzzah! To continue reading the blog about this show, Click Here! To watch this show now, Click Here!

Air Date: 06/09/2012 It’s another unforgettable orgy in the Womb Room. And what is the cause for celebration this time? To quote the sagacious inscription on the goblet I received as a gift: “It’s My Fucking Birthday!” And what a bon anniversaire bacchanal of epic proportions it is, commencing with me popping out of my own cake (concocted by RadioSUZY1 producer and passionate cake fetishist Tasia Sutor, assisted by artist Yossie Vardan), surrounded by some of the world’s hottest sexpots, sexperts and sex maniacs in full-on, ecstatic celebration mode. Then things really go off! And by “things” I mean most of my guests’ clothing as we pile up more beauties in the bed for Sybian rides, spanking, pole-dancing, Adult Play Parlor sex toys for all, Kinky Eddie sex toys for me, sword swallowing (both the sideshow and fellatio variety—at the same time!), as couples and clusters sex it up until the break of dawn on various beds and couches of the Speakeasy, in celebration of the very first “sex act” of my long and rather sexual life. Yes indeed, brothers and sisters, we are all born from sex. With all due respect to the Virgin Mother, real mothers are not virgins. Neither are fathers. Sex is what brings us into the world, and sex is what motivates us to stick around for a while. Praise be to the power and glory of sex! It keeps you young. And you keep me young. At least you—my readers, listeners, lovers, viewers, friends, clients, tweeps, my awesome, ever-changing socialist/capitalist BonoboVille community—keep me from ever growing up. The proof is in this party. Thank you all for helping to make my crazy marvelous life possible.

Air Date: 06/09/2012 It’s another unforgettable orgy in the Womb Room. And what is the cause for celebration this time? To quote the sagacious inscription on the goblet I received as a gift: “It’s My Fucking Birthday!” And what a bon anniversaire bacchanal of epic proportions it is, commencing with me popping out of my own cake (concocted by RadioSUZY1 producer and passionate cake fetishist Tasia Sutor, assisted by artist Yossie Vardan), surrounded by some of the world’s hottest sexpots, sexperts and sex maniacs in full-on, ecstatic celebration mode. Then things really go off! And by “things” I mean most of my guests’ clothing as we pile up more beauties in the bed for Sybian rides, spanking, pole-dancing, Adult Play Parlor sex toys for all, Kinky Eddie sex toys for me, sword swallowing (both the sideshow and fellatio variety—at the same time!), as couples and clusters sex it up until the break of dawn on various beds and couches of the Speakeasy, in celebration of the very first “sex act” of my long and rather sexual life. Yes indeed, brothers and sisters, we are all born from sex. With all due respect to the Virgin Mother, real mothers are not virgins. Neither are fathers. Sex is what brings us into the world, and sex is what motivates us to stick around for a while. Praise be to the power and glory of sex! It keeps you young. And you keep me young. At least you—my readers, listeners, lovers, viewers, friends, clients, tweeps, my awesome, ever-changing socialist/capitalist BonoboVille community—keep me from ever growing up. The proof is in this party. Thank you all for helping to make my crazy marvelous life possible.