by Dr. Susan Block. Happy Labia Day, Brothers and Sisters, Lovers and Sinners! It’s our 5th annual Labia Day show live from the Womb Room sanctuary in the little Love Church of The Bonobo Way in Bonoboville. #GoBonobos for Pussy Power! WHY do we celebrate Labia Day on the Saturday before Labor Day? Good question!

by Dr. Susan Block It’s our last live DrSuzy.Tv broadcast of 2017, a year that was awesome and awful, terrific and terrible—or Trumpible, if you will, since much of the terror was caused by the Trumpus. Whether you loved or hated it, this year is in the rear (for my full year-in-review and unadulterated thoughts on the unbonobo presidunce and erotic resistance, see #GoBonobos in 2018, also in Counterpunch). Thus, with a fond farewell to this year’s 45 sensational shows, a Merry New Year and a very Happy Nude Rear to all, we present the 2017 SUZY awards.

by Dr. Susan Block. Wow. What a birthday. What a bacchanal of beauty, bonobo love, music, laughter, spanking and rejuvenating sex with a capital X. Amen and Awomen. Praise be to the power and glory of sex. It keeps you young. And you keep me young, brothers and sisters, lovers and sinners of Inner and Greater Bonoboville. At least, you keep me from ever growing up. The proof is in this party, un feliz cumpleaños, un buon cumpleanno, yom hooledet sameyach, un joyeux anniversaire, an ecstatic orgiastic celebration of life, a Festival of Eros, with a nod of respect to Thanatos, and a very happy birthday to remember through any remaining birthdays I have left on this Earth. Thank you, Bonoboville—my awesome staff (see bottom of this blog), guests, readers, listeners, viewers and patrons—for everything you do that makes this crazy, kinky, wonderful life possible.

It’s our first live broadcast after The Bonobo Way book launch from the new Womb Room, but I’m so engrossed in the Great Kindle Giveaway—in which our “Amazon Bestsellers Rank” dropped from 400,000 to 1291 in two breathless days!—that I don’t even find out who this show’s guests are until they sashay into the Speakeasy, all high heels, low tops and glitter. Then they jump into bed with me, and all heaven breaks loose.

It’s funny how the last Saturday of Masturbation Month always falls in the middle of Memorial Day Weekend. How are we to conjoin such odd bedfellows? Manhandle those hot dogs, boys! Mash those potatoes, ladies! Memorial Day signals the start of summer, heating up with sexy fun and the sizzling smell of fresh barbeque. Of course, Memorial Day is also a requiem for the dead—the people who have been barbequed in America’s Perma-Wars. The American dead, that is. The other dead can get their own holiday, right? Memorial Day is for America’s dead soldiers. We are the Masturbation Nation serving the Multi-National Corporations of America (even if they’re based in Hong Kong).

It’s another flavorful night of sex education, demonstration and celebration in Bonoboville, the sex ed subject being the fine art and succulent science of oral pleasure. With gentle breezes blowing the radiant streams of DrSuzy.tv producer Tasia Sutor’s scrumptious set, we learn to “blow each other away” with all kinds of essential and exotic techniques—from sucking to licking, deep-throating to muff-diving—courtesy of our feature guest Jaiya’s excellent new book of that name. As for “demonstration,” our fabulous fellatrixes and cunning linguists not only demonstrate many of these oral skills for your edification and delight; we also demonstrate our determination to stop rape and violence against women—and everyone else—by rising up to dance in Eve Ensler’s galvanizing One Billion Rising campaign (we’ll be doing it again next Satuday 2/16/13—join us for Lupercalia Rising!). And we celebrate Chinese New Year with my akeeta corn snake (also named Eve) who seems thrilled to be entering the Year of the Snake…though you never know with snakes.

For my first show of 2013, I planned nothing and invited nobody. Since I wasn’t feeling so “hot” for various reasons (listen free above for details)—one being that I’m still wearing this damn eye patch and another that my cowardly engineer (we’ll call him Weasley) just fell in love, went bananas and split, without giving notice, I thought this would just be a quiet practice program for my tech department, and was in no mood for a big show. So I was a little unnerved when I walked onstage to find my little Womb Room packed with friends and fans. At first, I wanted to hide, then I was so moved by their enthusiasm, I almost cried. But I’m too vain to ruin my eye makeup, even with only one eye, so I held back the tears, and within 10 minutes, these beautiful people had me all cheered up and riding the wave of communal ecstasy into one of the most delightful shows in Prince Max’s and my two decades of love and debauchery.

From being baptized in the holy water of a squirting orgasm to winning a tough presidential election, from celebrating Max’s 69th birthday to 69ing on a bed of nails, we explore the meaning and experience of ecstasy—in sex, love, politics, nature, drugs, exhibitionism, art, radio and the rest of life, as well as death—both the “little death” and the Big One.

It’s funny how the last Saturday of Masturbation Month always falls in the middle of Memorial Day Weekend. How are we to conjoin such odd bedfellows? Manhandle those hot dogs, boys! Mash those potatoes, ladies! Memorial Day signals the start of summer, heating up with sexy fun and the sizzling smell of fresh barbeque. Of course, Memorial Day is also a requiem for the dead—the people who have been barbequed in America’s Perma-Wars. The American dead, that is. The other dead can get their own holiday, right? Memorial Day is for America’s dead soldiers. We are the Masturbation Nation serving the Multi-National Corporations of America (even if they’re based in Hong Kong).

It’s another flavorful night of sex education, demonstration and celebration in Bonoboville, the sex ed subject being the fine art and succulent science of oral pleasure. With gentle breezes blowing the radiant streams of DrSuzy.tv producer Tasia Sutor’s scrumptious set, we learn to “blow each other away” with all kinds of essential and exotic techniques—from sucking to licking, deep-throating to muff-diving—courtesy of our feature guest Jaiya’s excellent new book of that name. As for “demonstration,” our fabulous fellatrixes and cunning linguists not only demonstrate many of these oral skills for your edification and delight; we also demonstrate our determination to stop rape and violence against women—and everyone else—by rising up to dance in Eve Ensler’s galvanizing One Billion Rising campaign (we’ll be doing it again next Satuday 2/16/13—join us for Lupercalia Rising!). And we celebrate Chinese New Year with my akeeta corn snake (also named Eve) who seems thrilled to be entering the Year of the Snake…though you never know with snakes.

Length: 126:40 minutes Date: 11/10/2012 From being baptized in the holy water of a squirting orgasm to winning a tough presidential election, from celebrating Max’s 69th birthday to 69ing on a bed of nails, we explore the meaning and experience of ecstasy—in sex, love, politics, nature, drugs, exhibitionism, art, radio and the rest of life, as well as death—both the “little death” and the Big One. Ecstasy—that ineffable “out of control” feeling—is especially irresistible to control freaks, such as a certain former director of the CIA. We talk about how General David Petraeus’ star-crossed romance with his attractive “All In” biographer Paula Broadwell is being gobbled up like a juicy steak by our erotic ecstasy-starved nation, even though hardly anybody really cares whether the guy keeps his marital vows of genital monogamy. More to the point, as my Counterpunch publisher Jeffrey St. Clair noted as soon as Petraeus apologized, “Killing babies and wedding parties didn’t bother his conscience in the least…” And here he is prostrating himself over a consensual affair (more coming soon). Also in the Bad News Department: We talk about LA’s newly passed “Nanny State” Measure B, how it’s unconstitutional and impossible to enforce, but still will be a horrible pain in the porn industry’s shaved asshole, not to mention a terrible loss in revenue for LA County. But most of this show ecstatically rings in the Good News of my beloved hubby Capt’n Prince Max’s 69th royal birthday, surrounded by 69ing couples, ecstatic to be alive and rather well, together in the midst of the communal ecstasy of our BonoboVille. Many have tried to take this wonderful man down, from police in three different states to members of his own family (one of whom is even in Womb Room during this show!) to the Big C itself. But Prince Max has prevailed, published and prospered. And, as the Big O(bama) just promised when we extended our presidential love affair four more years, “The best is yet to come.” And cum!

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.

Air Date: 10/22/2011 There’s nothing like a joyride on a nice hard broomstick to celebrate the witching season. And one wild, high-flying, enchanted joyride—with dizzying twists, turns, squirts and rolls in the corpses—is just what this show is. Opening with an invocation to witches through history and featuring all kinds of swallowing—from sword dildos to real 27-inch swords—as well as masturbation, golden showers, spanking, fetish Barbie dolls and hilarious, insightful, explosive Weapons of Mass Discussion from my many sexy, lively, dead and undead guests, this Halloweenish show is more fun than a hearse-full of porn stars.

Jetstreaming into June with a cast of high-fliers, veteran sex performers, hot fledglings, hip producers, feminist hemp activists, soaring superheroes, flying pink piglets and bouncing blonde bonobos, this fun and boobalicious episode of The Dr. Susan Block Show climaxes with an epic chain spanking of flying palms and fingers, dedicated to spanking out the American Perma-Wars and spreading peace through pleasure around the world.

“If God had intended us not to masturbate, He–or perhaps She–would have made our arms shorter.” So sayeth the late great George Carlin and, as a former Sunday school teacher turned Saturday night sex talk show host, it makes ecclesiastical sense to me. So smack in the middle of the merry Masturbation Month of May, rubbing a luminous Screaming O over and under my Yale panties, I invite a stellar cast of professors, porn stars, teachers, preachers, erotica artists and wild wanking nymphs to teach, testify, explore, analyze and very explicitly demonstrate the art and science of self-love. Masturbation is, of course, the ultimate self-help activity, in that if you can help yourself to the greatest sexual pleasure, you really don’t need to kow-tow to the demands of an unreasonable husband, or wife, or religion, or government. No wonder self-love is still considered so taboo. Well, this show just sits right down on the face of that taboo and galvanizes those perfectly sized arms of ours.

“If God had intended us not to masturbate, He–or perhaps She–would have made our arms shorter.” So sayeth the late great George Carlin and, as a former Sunday school teacher turned Saturday night sex talk show host, it makes ecclesiastical sense to me. So smack in the middle of the merry Masturbation Month of May, rubbing a luminous Screaming O over and under my Yale panties, I invite a stellar cast of professors, porn stars, teachers, preachers, erotica artists and wild wanking nymphs to teach, testify, explore, analyze and very explicitly demonstrate the art and science of self-love. Masturbation is, of course, the ultimate self-help activity, in that if you can help yourself to the greatest sexual pleasure, you really don’t need to kow-tow to the demands of an unreasonable husband, or wife, or religion, or government. No wonder self-love is still considered so taboo. Well, this show just sits right down on the face of that taboo and galvanizes those perfectly sized arms of ours.