between the legs and between the ears

Ask Mz. Conduct at; guttergrl69.hotmail.com


“C*nt” is not slang, dialect, or any marginal form, but a true language word, and of the oldest stock. It is a derivative of the Oriental Great Goddess known as Cunti, or Kunda, the Yoni of the Universe.
Barbara Walker

Tweak my titty and call me Kung Pao Kitty. I remember when I was a young spring chicken, the word “c*nt” used to make me cringe with rigid disgust. As I got older I realized how much I verbally caress and actually enjoy the intricate use of the word. I love to pooch out my c*ck sucking (I love that word too) lips to deliver it. Roll out my bottom lip and say it with emphasis, with total meaning, embracing the succulent syllable for all it’s worth. C*nt ... mmmm. And with it’s own raspy-voiced inference, it seems to envelope all that I am as a woman.

Since the media has always held complex and controversial roles with this word, I am careful about spelling the word out, even here.

My wise, ol’ Yippie*, mentor, Stew Albert and I were discussing this topic just the other day when he reflected on his amazing past (as he so often does). He told me that he was the first person to ever say the word c*nt on national television. “Wow!” I thought and grabbed my pen and pad. This is his story and a bit of the etymology of the word itself:

It was 1970. Stew and Jerry Rubin, two of the founding members of the Yippie organization, were invited to the London version of the David Frost show. The show was a live discussion forum and the crowd was full of radical, left wing, hippies and Yippies. The anti-war movement was at hand and the discussion became quite colorful. David Frost was interviewing the two when he described one of the group, Jerry Rubin, as “a reasonable man.” Stew shouted back, jokingly, “He’s not a reasonable man, he’s the most unreasonable c*nt I’ve ever known in my life!” The atmosphere turned to pandemonium and a riot ensued. Marijuana cigarettes were being passed through the audience and general upheaval persisted. David Frost then called the British police and Stew and Jerry had to flee into the London subway system. A week later they were deported. Stew has since not set foot on London ground, other than a quick plane transfer a few years back. The Yippies have been described as media terrorists who demonstrated an uncanny ability to manipulate the media and consistently tried to be offensive. Oh Stewy, my hero!

After this first use of the word “c*nt” on television, the world’s first cinematic outing came the following year in the film Carnal Knowledge. Jack Nicholson called Ann-Margaret a “ball-bustin’ son-of-a-c*nt bitch.” Oh Jack, do you kiss your mama with that mouth? In 1972 there was a double-bill of c*nt use at the cinema, John Waters’ (hail hail the great!) Pink Flamingos and the L’Ultimo Tango A Paragi (the French and yummy Last Tango in Paris). In Pink Flamingos, the Sandy Sanderstone character says of another, “You’re a real c*nt, you know that? A real f*cking c*nt!” In an out-take from the same film, another character says: “A lot of people like c*nt ... but your eyes are like c*nt to me. Them c*nt-eyes”. Then in L’ Ultimo Tango A Paragi, Marlon Brando sits by the deathbed of his wife and addresses her in a long, emotional monologue: “Smile, you c*nt! You pig-f*cker. You God-damn f*cking pig-f*cking liar.” Oh Marlon, you twisted f*ck, no one could have played that part as you did. What a great movie.

Then Lisa Kuhne titled her 1993 lesbian porn film C*nt Dykula, though other uses of “c*nt” in films titles have been limited to the fictional “My C*nt Needs Shafts” and “Girls Who Crave C*nt” and the heterosexual porn like: Mondo C*nt, C*nt-Eating Frenzy, C*nt Hunt, and of course, C*nt Hunt ll. I have a sudden hankering for popcorn and a stiff martini and gee … a c*nt?

These days the word is used so much more liberally and acceptance seems to be building. Just this year the Vagina Monologues played in town and Wild Bill took me to see a play by a performance troupe known as The House of C*nt. By the way if any of you have any objections to me overusing the word c*nt...well then lick me.

On that juicy, tingling, tight, little puss of a note, I demand that you send me your questions or subject yourself to the wrath of my c*nt! guttergrl69.hotmail.com


*Yippie = highly theatrical hippies that mixed their performance art with their political activism, calling themselves the Youth International Party.

*Some information has come from a Ph.D thesis from the University of Coventry in England.



Dear Mz. Conduct,

My boyfriend has made a few comments about the smell of my vagina when he’s eating me out. He hasn’t been rude or anything but has said that maybe I could douche once in awhile or something. I feel embarrassed and wondered what your take is on this?

Odor Eater

Dear OE,

Well, little miss smelly snatch, for your information that was rude of your boyfriend to say that. Although if he didn’t you would never know that your fishy twat was wreaking havoc on the poor boy’s taste buds. So maybe you’re not burning his nostril hairs completely out but there are a few things to consider.

The old adage that you are what you eat isn’t a crock of hooey. For instance a man’s cum always tells me what his diet is like. If I get a mouth full of “Oh you eat at Jack Off in the Box” I want to run and gargle, but if he has a healthy meat free diet I could gulp all day, and at times, have been known to. The same goes for us girls. Watch what you’re eating. Keep it veggie and keep it organic as much as possible. Refined sugars, processed foods and caffeine, alcohol and nicotine can leave you smelling like one funky ho. Also be aware that any tight clothing inhibits airflow to your pussy. Sure, those Spandex workout deals are great for the gym but get them off as soon as you can and if you must wear undies (ugh! I hate the very thought) then stick with white cotton. They may not be sexy, but they’re sexier than a case of vaginitis. And labia on the loose, definitely sleep without any underwear at all. Wash your self every day, inside and out, with a mild soap or even mineral oil. Stay away from anything perfumed or deodorized, dyed toilet paper and what not.

To your douche question I have to say that I do not recommend it. It’s a product invented by a man to make money, and I personally think douches are evil. Your vagina has natural bacteria that fight off infection and when you douche you flush away that natural bacteria too. If you already have an infection douching can spread it to your tubes and uterus and cause a real muck of a mess.

Keep in mind that certain times of the month or times of sexual arousal will produce hormonal change. Ovulation for instance, will send off extra hormones that are supposed to attract your mate and extra mucus is secreted. Me woman, want man and want him now, sort of thing. Become familiar with your body’s smell and know that just because you don’t smell like a ‘summer’s breeze’ or a ‘fresh field meadow’ doesn’t mean it’s not yummy. So, do as Mz. Conduct says and tell your boyfriend to douche his ass and shut the hell up.


Dear Mz. Conduct,

I’m confused about everything. Maybe the correct word would be afraid. For instance I like being controlled in many ways but I don't like being ordered around. I like to please people but I'm afraid of being abused because of it. Generally I ignore the whole human race, which is stupid. I don't like hurting people, but can be quite sadistic with people I don't like. I don't know if it's just a face or it's something suppressed in me. And then again I just wish to give up all my will and need that I have, just like that. And this calms me down (being tied up that's a pleasant thought!). I really don't know maybe it's because of the fact that I came out of an abusive family, if so: do I need medical treatment? Oh, and I'm 22 and a virgin girl without a specific why.

That is the easy part. I've read what SM is all about, probably the only reading I have done in past year. I live on a very small and isolated island, by the way. There is one porn shop in the city, but going in there and doing what?! And it would freak me out anyway. Most people that are around me (at work, friends, family) think that I'm incapable of one dirty thought so how one can discuss something like this with them? I've tried with my mother, she almost got a heart attack and that's kind of discouraging. And mainly I don't think that I could compromise just with theoretical speech.

I don't know if I'm managing to express what I mean or I just managed to make a fool of myself, but it’s probably the best thing I can do for now. I never wrote anything so big and all about myself.

Greek Island Girl

Dear GIG,

Okay, first let me clear my mind of basking on a Greek island, scantily clad bodies surrounding me, hot sun heating my curvy form, ouzo intoxicating my brain cells and...ugh! Holy hatbox full of sex toys, somebody slap me, and slap me hard! Uh oh, slapping, another reverie digression. Sigh, okay, I’ve snapped out of it and hope I can help.

You are young, you aren’t familiar with your sexual self yet. When I was your age I was screaming like a hyena over cute boys that looked like girls. Well, some things never change, but my point is that it takes time as a woman to understand what all our flying hormones are about, and then to embrace them for all they’re worth.

What I’m getting from you is that you’ve fantasized about some bondage, feel compelled to be bitchy and in control, and would like to play with others. More than likely you’re a switch, but only you will know this in time. You do not have to be sexual to do this by the way. It can be very erotic, but not necessarily sexual. Stay a virgin until you meet that partner that you feel completely comfortable with. An important thing to know is that any abuse you suffered in the past may have little to do with your fantasies. That’s a common misconception. People that like to be pony boys may have had a horrible experience with livestock as a child or they could have had a wonderful pet or even none of these things. It just means that anybody can have an interest in SM. You do not need medical treatment as far as I can tell. You are a blossoming goddess and full of life’s beautiful changes.

And as close to your mother as you might be, your sexual frustration is obviously not something the two of you are comfortable discussing. Leave the family out of it as well as any friends at the workplace that have preconceived opinions about what you think or don’t. It’s none of their freakin’ business anyway.

There is a fab website called www.houseochicks.com that you can take free classes at. They call it Vulva University and offer accurate and informative sex education. One class especially, “Alternative Sex Play” would be very good for you I think. This, I would recommend before searching for a web based group to associate yourself with. Start there and see what flower unfolds. Or mix up a batch of martinis and send a private plane for Mz. Conduct.

Copyright 2002 All Rights Reserved Kim Alvarez