April Fool’s Day: Vaporesso Tarot Baby

[Header Image Description: The Vaporesso Tarot Baby, a red box mod vape with a blue world on the body of the vape.]

Happy April Fools’ Day! I’m taking today to be a little silly and a little weird, so instead of my usual sex toy reviews or introspective personal essays, I’ve written a review of one of my other special interests: vaping! I think vapes are really fascinating, and unfortunately, I am also quite attached to the nicotine that often comes with them. If you don’t know anything about vaping, don’t worry; this is more of a written info dump than an actual review. Believe me when I say I have plenty of experience in explaining vaping to people who don’t know anything about it.

This review is of my current favourite box mod, the Vaporesso Tarot Baby. I’m a big fan of Vaporesso because their products have enough features to be customisable, but aren’t so advanced that they need hours of research to use properly.

Background

The Vaporesso Tarot Baby has two main sections: the tank or atomiser, and the mod or battery section. The tank is where the e-juice sits, and in the middle there is a coil. The coil is a heating element, often a piece of wire, that surrounds some cotton. When the cotton is soaked with e-juice, the wire heats up and vaporises the e-juice, which the vaper then inhales. The heating elements also come in a range of ohm values, which indicates resistance that they have to the current. A higher ohm coil will provide more resistance and use less power, and a lower ohm will provide less resistance and use more power. Generally speaking, more power equals more vapour. The tank also comes with a wide-bore 510 delrin drip tip, which is the part you put your mouth on. I quickly replaced that with a thinner resin tip, which was easy because 510 tips are pretty common.

The tank receives power from the mod, where the battery is located. The Tarot Baby has an inbuilt battery, which means you cannot change it out if the battery fails. This does mean, however, that the whole mod can be charged via micro-USB, rather than with the bulkier chargers needed for replaceable batteries. The Tarot Baby has a variable wattage, which means you can change the power that the battery gives out. This can be controlled by the LED screen on the side of the mod.

Features

The pre-installed tank for the Tarot Baby is an NRG SE tank, and comes with two coils in the pack. I prefer the 0.18ohm mesh coil, because the 0.6ohm ceramic coil was too cool for me. Due to the bubble glass style of the tank, it can hold up to 4.5mL of e-juice, which lasts me a good few days if I am exclusively using the Tarot Baby. It also has a removable 510 drip tip (that I replaced because I prefer smaller tips) and two adjustable airflow ports. I prefer using the Tarot Baby on about half airflow, so I’m positive that it would please even the airiest of vapers.

The Tarot Baby mod has a 2500Ah battery and 2A charging, which are a lot of numbers that essentially mean it has a big battery that takes around 2 hours to charge. It goes up to 85 watts, and can be changed in increments of 0.1W. I don’t change my wattage very often, but I like the option because some of my e-juices perform better at slightly different wattages, and I find that I need to lower the wattage towards the end of a coil’s lifetime.

The mod also has options for TCR settings and bypass mode, which I don’t use because they’re too advance for my needs and preferences. Additionally, TCR, or temperature coefficient of resistance, is only possible with Nickel, Titanium, NiFe, and Stainless Steel coils, and my coils are currently made of Kanthol. I like that the options are there, because that’s some really advanced stuff if you are so inclined.

The Vaporesso Tarot Baby, showing the large black delrin drip tip, and the thinner red resin drip tip.

Design

Box mod design is incredibly important, because it sits in your hand the whole time. The Tarot Baby is wide enough that I don’t struggle to keep my grip on it, but small and reasonably light. It has nice beveled edges that don’t dig into my hands, and doesn’t pick up fingerprints as much as other glossier mods do, with the exception of the screen. Even then, the screen is quite dark so the fingerprints aren’t terribly visible. Fingerprints are to vapes what dust and lint are to sex toys – some products are absolute magnets.

The screen is a decent size, and I’m able to read it quite well. I appreciate that I can change the colour of the screen, both for readability and for aesthetics. I’m also unreasonably delighted by the clock that appears a bit before the screen blanks out.

The Tarot Baby comes in a range of colours and designs. I have the red model, which I think looks very nice and fits the Tarot theme. I also like the blue design, and black, silver, and rainbow are all hard to mess up. The other designs are a bit too edgy for my tastes and don’t match my aesthetic very well.

Buttons

Yes, I have just as many opinions about buttons on vapes as I do about buttons on sex toys. The Tarot Baby has 4 buttons – the three under the screen, and the fire button (that makes the coil heat up and the vapour come out) which is part of the screen. I particularly like the fire button’s size, as it is the button I use the most. It also has a satisfying click, so I can hear and feel when I press it. Even when I have the vape the wrong way around, I can still click the fire button with the other side of my hand.

It’s easy to remember the functions for the other three buttons, with the leftmost and rightmost buttons scrolling through settings, and the middle one for selecting. They are on the smaller side, probably because the mod is quite compact, but spaced apart and set out from the body of the mod, so I don’t have much trouble finding and hitting them. When scrolling through wattage settings, you short press to move by increments of 0.1W, and long press to move by 1W. This is difficult for me to use, because my fingers are not as fast or precise in their movements as the average user. It takes a fair bit of finagling up and down the range before I actually land on the wattage I want.

The biggest problem I have with the buttons on this mod is the locking and power off controls. In order to lock to vape, so you don’t accidentally press buttons and change your settings, you hit the fire button three times. To turn the vape on and off, you press the fire button five times. This is really hard for me, because I need to press the button in quick enough succession that it registers the presses as connected, but I also need to let the button fully come back to its original position so the mod can tell the difference between three presses and five. Additionally, turning off the vape or locking it engages the fire button, so some vapour is produced. I worry that this shortens the life of the coil, because it’s not great for a coil to fire without the airflow of the vaper pulling on it. I don’t see why the middle button can’t be used to power on and off, especially because then a long press could be used to turn the vape off.

The Vaporesso Tarot Baby, showing the fire button (where my thumb is) and the other three buttons on the bottom. The screen shows the timeout clock.

Performance/Verdict

I’m really happy with the Tarot Baby overall. It’s easy to use, but I have the option to further customise it if I want to. I’m happy with the airflow range, so much so that it’s ruined me for pod-style vapes with tighter draws. I’ve had hardly any trouble with liquid leaking out of the airflow holes, which is a persistent problem with other tanks I own. There is also minimal spit back – when heated droplets of liquid come out of the coil and through the drip tip – and the small amounts that have occurred haven’t actually hit my face. The coil size is also incredibly compatible, and accommodates a lot of coils from companies other than Vaporesso. Most importantly, flavour is top notch.

My only real issue with the Tarot Baby is that it takes a lot of strength to replace the coil, as it crews into the base of the tank and I need to get a good grip on it to twist it out. Luckily, the coils last for a good while, and I don’t need to replace them very often.

The Tarot Baby is a great little addition to my vape collection. If I had the option, I would use it all the time, but unfortunately it does create a lot of vapour, which is a bit antisocial, so I use it mostly in my house. It’s a nice little treat, and especially fun while I make heaps of video calls during self-isolation!

Thanks for reading my self-indulgent April Fool’s piece — though I don’t intend to imply that the rest of this blog is anything other than thoroughly self-indulgent! Hope you have a silly day free from screamers, cruel jokes, and stress. April Fool’s!

Paloqueth Rotating Beads Vibrator

[Header Image Description: The Paloqueth Rotating Balls Vibrator, a small egg shaped vibrator with a white plastic handle and a purple silicone bottom.]

The jig is up! A few days ago, with a well concealed ulterior motive, I posted my review of the Lelo Ora 2. I received the Rotating Beads Vibrator (here-in referred to as the RBV) from Paloqueth a little while back, and I wanted to provide some context for why I was so excited about this odd-looking vibe.

The Paloqueth RBV is a similar in concept to the Lelo Ora; it has vibration functions, as well as three rotating beads that provide manual stimulation. In case you haven’t read the review I wrote of the Ora 2, I’ll quickly explain what was so special about it so you don’t have to click out of this review before you’ve finished it. Due to my autism, I have a propensity towards sensory overload. It’s much too overwhelming for someone to touch my clit directly, but I still like motion while I’m jerking off. I’ve found vibrators with rotating beads to satiate that craving, while still being predictable enough and having the added distraction of vibration to keep the sensory overload at bay.

There are still some issues I have with the RBV, but I’d be much happier to recommend it over the Lelo Ora 2.

Design

I’m not going to lie to you, the RBV looks more like a back massager than a vibrator – and not in the sexy industrial wand vibrator way. It reminds me of the kinds of pressure point balls I use to release the muscles around my spine and the odd shade of purple really adds to this impression. As I’ve come to expect from Paloqueth, the packaging was lovely, but I just wish the vibrator itself was a different colour.

While the RBV doesn’t look as sleek and luxurious as the Ora, the shape of the vibe is near perfect for me. The way I hold it feels so natural, and my fingers can relax during use. I don’t have to bend my wrist, and can rest my arm on my stomach comfortably. Hardly any of the weight of the vibrator is carried by my hand, and the RBV is very light to begin with. I also have plenty of room to use a dildo or internal vibrator.

The handle is very close to the motor, so a lot of the vibrations come up to where my fingers sit. This isn’t much of a problem for me, but I know other people have issues with handle vibrations.

 

Image Description: A light skinned hand holding the RBV, showing that the small button has to be pressed with the tip of the thumb nail.

The button is in a strange location, and it is entirely swallowed by my mons during use, so I can’t change settings without moving the vibe. I also found the button too small, and I have to use my thumb nail if I want to press it with much accuracy.

The controls were confusing, as well, because you hold the power button once to turn it on, then press a second time to start the speeds. I don’t really understand the purpose of having an extra press to turn on the vibe, and I just thought that it was out of battery before I read the instructions. I guessssssss I could have just read the instructions before I turned it on, but I like to live life on the edge.

Vibrations

It has to be said: the vibrations on the RBV are buzzier and less penetrating than the vibrations on the Ora. However, the difference is small enough that I still enjoy the RBV’s vibrations. My main qualm with the quality of the Ora’s vibrations is that the Ora is a luxury toy, with a price point well over the $100 mark. For the price of the RBV, I’d say the vibrations are par for the course; nothing spectacular, but not abysmal either. Additionally, I like a bit of buzz with these vibrators, because the slight numbing of the vibrations takes the edge off the manual stimulation of the balls.

There are only 3 speeds on the RBV, which is less than I prefer, but something I’ve had to get used to. 3 patterns just doesn’t work with my masturbation cycle, guys! I need at least a fourth speed, just that little extra kick at the end, and I’ve only found this in a handful of vibes.

I didn’t enjoy the pulsation patterns on the RBV much. I find pulsation patterns unappealing on most vibrators, and the RBV is no difference. Because of the circuit of the balls, I couldn’t distinguish the pattern beginning from the balls moving around. Even if you’re a pattern die-hard, I don’t think the RBV works well with pulsation patterns.

Image Description: The RBV from the bottom, showing the three rotating balls that touch the genitals.

Performance

The best thing about the RBV is that it has three rotating balls, whereas the Ora only has one. They don’t protrude from the silicone as much as the Ora 2, but I get that thrill of the balls lightly flicking my clit three times as often! The three balls feel more uniform, and are also noticeably faster. The circuit of the balls is generous despite the compact size of the RBV, and my larger-than-average clit gets even attention. I prefer broad stim from my vibes, and I’m generally sceptical of smaller vibrators, but the RBV manages just fine.

Compared to the Ora, it was significantly easier to orgasm with the RBV, even though, as I mentioned before, I didn’t like the vibrations as much. I think this is because the grip on the RBV was much more natural, so I didn’t have to stop and reposition, or think too hard about keeping a grip on the vibration.

Even so, I did find the RBV to be more overwhelming just before, during, and after orgasm. I usually pull a vibrator to the base of my clit or right onto my mons at that point, but because the RBV’s vibrations aren’t as rumbly and penetrating as something like the Mystic Wand, I can’t do that. It means I get the full brunt of the vibrator. Sometimes this is just too much for me, and thinking about using the RBV makes my vulva want to retreat up into my body.

As a sex nerd, something that fascinated me was that I felt that I was wetter when using the RBV. After testosterone, I produce less natural lubrication and don’t usually feel “wet” when I’m aroused. With the RBV, though, I noticed more lubrication that I did with other vibrators. The Doxy Wand has no noticeable impact on my lubrication, for example. I’m not sure how I would test the hypothesis, but I wonder if it’s due to the manual stimulation of the balls causing my body to become more physically aroused.

Verdict

The RBV is better than the Ora, but in a “more pros, less cons” rather than a “no cons” way. There are issues with the RBV, like its vibration quality, but those are mostly different issues to the Ora, and ones that I am not as bothered by. The RBV is cheaper, better designed, not made by Lelo, and doesn’t make any claims to be like oral sex. Those are all big pluses in my book.

I still think this style of vibrator is a niche interest, but the RBV isn’t exorbitantly expensive, so if you’re on the look out for new, odd sensations, it might be an option.

Unpopular Opinion: Lelo Ora 2

A few months ago, Twitter was full of “Unpopular Opinion” memes, ranging from unpopular opinion: pasta edition to unpopular opinion: climate policy edition. I didn’t actually engage with those memes – partially because I always saw them days after they were posted, but mostly because I have no gauge on whether my opinions are actually unpopular or not. It also took me literal months to write this post, so the connection is tenuous at best. But I’m going to soldier on, because there’s no time like the present! I’m exposing what is possibly my most unpopular sex toy opinion of all – I genuinely like the Lelo Ora 2.

Disclaimer: Don’t buy it

Now I’m going to put a big preface here. I like the Lelo Ora 2, yes, but I don’t think you should buy it. Firstly, and most importantly, Lelo has been boycotted by a lot of people because of their poor ethics and (in my opinion) quite flagrant sexism. To me, it feels like Lelo is now exclusively marketing their products to rich men. Women are at best an afterthought, and at worst a trophy for buying such an expensive luxury product. I’m not just talking about Pino, the cock ring for bankers, but I think that shit fire exemplifies what I’m talking about. Many bloggers have written about Lelo, and if you haven’t read it already, go read Lilly’s post (and the links below) before you start getting ideas about buying something from Lelo. Secondly, I like the Ora 2, but it is unnecessarily expensive. It’s over AUD250, and for that price I want something really amazing. I could get a genuinely innovative toy like a Womanizer Liberty or a Stronic Eins for almost $100 less. The only reason I own the Ora 2 is because I got it secondhand from a good friend. My favourite toys are nowhere near as expensive as the Ora. I do think, however, that I need to write this review, because I want to show that, sometimes, widely disliked toys can find their perfect person.

Image Description: A light skinned hand holding the Lelo Ora 2, demonstrating the finger loop.

Design

I have very picky genitals. I don’t claim that my clit has impeccable taste, but I’m definitely fussy. I’m autistic, and a common feature of autism means a propensity towards sensory overload. I’m highly sensitive to touch, smell, and certain kinds of sound. I also live with chronic pain, and because of the high level of pain that I constantly feel, I am easily upset by slight discomforts. When it comes to sex, this means that I almost always hate manual stimulation. I don’t like partners to touch my clit, because the sensation is powerful and unpredictable, and the overwhelming sensations cancels out any pleasure I’m experiencing. If it didn’t involve shaving off my precious pubic hair, I would tattoo “do not touch” on my mons. Vibrators are a good substitute in this case, because the stimulation from a vibe is regular. Even if I’m using a pattern (which I only do to test products) I can still anticipate the kind of stimulation I’m receiving. Humans are fallible and can never reach machine precision, which is why sex toys aren’t the same as sex with another human being. The unpredictability is what I like about partnered sex, and also why I don’t want any partner to ever touch my clit ever again. I also prefer a light undercurrent of surface-level buzz to vibrations, because this can numb the area somewhat, and reduces the discomfort of the intense sensations just before orgasm. I also like a lot of pressure when I’m jerking off. If bodies made sense, hand sex would be great for getting that pressure, but unfortunately that isn’t the case.

Enter the Lelo Ora 2. In case you don’t know what the Ora does, it’s an external vibrator that is supposed to simulate oral sex with a small ball bearing that rolls around the surface. A dear friend was showing me their sex toy collection a little while back and I was incredibly excited to see a real Lelo Ora in the flesh (or in the silicone, I suppose). At the time, I’d never seen one because Max Black doesn’t stock them and other adult stores in my area don’t usually have demo models out. Because my friend was and continues to be an absolute angel, they said “Oh, you can just have it, I don’t use it.” I’m pretty sure I screamed, and I definitely texted all my friends about actually, really owning the Lelo Ora. My excitement was mostly just a collector’s urge, expecting the Ora to be a fun conversation piece that I’d pull out of my dildo closet to make a friend laugh. But I wanted to use it, too. The Ora is silicone, so I gave it a good clean (which did involve digging around in the gap between the silicone and the gold part with a toothpick) and it was fine for me to use. And I thought it was going to be a joke! I was planning the “Guess what I put on my junk today!” tweets and blank-faced Instagram selfies with the caption “war flashbacks to that time I used the Lelo Ora”. But I was wrong. I liked the Ora. A lot. Enough that I was not convinced that I could have actually enjoyed it that much, so I immediately used it again. I quickly moved from making sure my enjoyment was not a fluke to using the Ora because I genuinely liked it.

Image Description: The buttons of the Lelo Ora, three connected oval shapes.

Vibrations

What makes the Ora work for me specifically? In a word, its weakness. It has low-to-mid-strength vibrations and even at its fastest, the ball moves at a snail’s pace. The vibration quality is pretty shocking, with a lot more surface-level buzz than even I enjoy, and no real difference in strength between the part that is supposed to go on your junk and the handle. With any other vibrator, I would hate it. I would struggle to orgasm, which is an uncomfortable experience for me. I like some build up, but when I get to the precipice, it’s so overwhelming that I want to orgasm as quickly as possible.

Vibrations like the Ora has keep me in a terrible sort of purgatory, but then the Ora has the little ball. With the subpar vibrations, my clit is somewhat numbed to the feeling of the ball. Unlike other reviews that I’ve read, I can feel the ball for the whole time that I use it. I don’t think I would like the Ora if the ball was much faster or more prominent.

Performance

As it is, I don’t need to apply extra pressure when I’m using the Ora, because the ball provides an analogous sensation. Due to testosterone, my clit is larger than average, which adds to the appeal of the Ora, because the ball’s circuit covers almost my whole external clit. Sessions with the Ora are longer than I usually take to jerk off, which the comfortable looped handle assists with. The chunky body of the vibrator makes thrusting dildos quite difficult, but an internal vibrator on a low setting gives a steady thrum of G spot stimulation.

The ball is crucial to my enjoyment. It isn’t like an actual human tongue or finger, but I don’t like tongues or fingers on my clit. The motion is undeniably mechanical, but there is identifiable motion, which I sometimes find myself craving. The Ora makes me noticeably wetter than other external vibrators, which is impressive because my vaginal lubrication has been greatly decreased by testosterone. I’ve also found that the motion makes for a great addition to partnered sex, because the ball moves over areas of varying sensitivity, and I’ve heard my reactions make for an appealing show.

Verdict

To risk sounding unbearably crunchy, the Ora makes me feel present. I feel connected to my genitals in a way that I often forget I can achieve. I need to take things slow with the Ora, so it’s relaxing to set aside an hour or so to love and appreciate my body. That’s something that I think should be celebrated, and I’m grateful that the Ora helped me to do that.

I’m definitely not saying that you should buy the Ora! Lelo is a really gross company, and stats suggest that you would hate the Ora 2 anyway. It’s not all sunshine and roses for me either — it’s loud and grating, the buttons are in weird positions, I can’t close my legs around it — but what I want to express with this review is that all pleasure is subjective. I want to encourage people to trust their own pleasure. You know your body best, and if a toy feels good to you, it doesn’t matter what other people think about it.

2019 Run Down

[Header Image Description: A clock reaching midnight.]

Yes, I know, it’s technically 2020. My post is late. But I’ve had the most hellishly busy and delightfully social few weeks, so I just haven’t had time to look back on the year that was. 2019 was a good year for me, both in and out of blogging. I’ve written some things I’m really proud of. I’ve met a lot of goals. I’ve had some important and healing conversations with other wonderful bloggers. If you’re reading this, you’re a part of what made 2019 so great.

Pevertables: AusPost App

[Header Image Description: A stock image of a yellow German post box]

A (long) while ago, a post was going around on Twitter that asked people “what app is most useful to your sex life?” A lot of people said sensible things like period trackers and medication reminders. Some people named social media apps, and at least one person said PayPal. The first app that came to mind for me was Etsy, because that’s where I buy most of my impact gear lately. After a bit of further thought, though, I realized that the app that genuinely benefits my sex life the most is the AusPost app. I’ve been listening to a lot of the Wonderful! Podcast, where each week, the two hosts discuss two things they think are wonderful, and it’s encouraged me to think about things in my life that bring me a bit of happiness.

 

For my international readers, I just want to warn you that the next few paragraphs are going to be incredibly Australian-centric, but your postal service might offer some of the things that I mention below! This is not a review, as such – I don’t know enough about technology to review an app – but instead an explanation of my perhaps unconventional usage of a vanilla app for my sex life!

 

The AusPost app is the official app of Australia Post, and when I received a tracking number for one of my birthday presents, I was prompted to download the app. I’ve never had sex with a postal worker, but the AusPost app has facilitated some great sex in the year or so that I’ve been using it. That’s because almost everything that I receive via post is sex related, disability related, or both. The most obvious use of the AusPost app, then, is to track different internet orders that I’ve placed, and plan my sexscapades accordingly. If I know that my order of lube is scheduled to arrive tomorrow, I won’t skimp on it tonight. If my flogger that I ordered from the Ukraine has just reached Australian Customs, I’m going to amp up my search for a local impact top. Plus, it’s just fun to open the app and count down the days until an anticipated item is delivered. It’s so exciting to head home from uni with the knowledge that my new vibrator will be sitting on my doorstep when I get there.

Image Description: A screenshot of the AusPost app, showing the tracking homepage.

After I had had the app for a few weeks, I started to use the other features that it offered. My parents, who I used to live with, are very sex negative, and would absolutely flip their shit if they knew just how many sex toys I’ve acquired over the past few years. My mum found my collection when it was a quarter of the size that it is now, and literally did not speak to me for a week. So, I could only really post sex toys to my parents’ place if I was absolutely sure that I would get the parcel before they were home. If that wasn’t an option, I would have to post it to a friend and then go out of my way to pick it up from their house. The AusPost app has the perfect solution to this problem, though, and I wish I could have been using it for much longer than I have been. They have temporary parcel lockers spread throughout the country, usually near central locations like train stations and shopping centres. You find the parcel locker location that is most convenient for you, and the app gives you a personalized locker number that you use like an ordinary postal address. This locker number is specific to you, and your app will automatically place parcels going to that locker onto your tracking list. You have 48 hours to pick up your parcel after it is delivered, after which it will be moved to the nearest post office. When it’s time to pick up your parcel, all you need to do is type in a code that you receive by SMS or email, or scan a QR code from your phone, and the locker that your parcel is in pops open. The best part about parcel lockers are that they’re open 24/7, so you can pick up your parcel at a time that is convenient to you. That means I don’t have to rush to the post office before 5pm, because I can pick up my parcel whenever I get around to it. Another little hack that I’ve discovered is that, because your locker number is personalized, Australia Post will track parcels to that locker once they have reached an Australia Post courier, even if the sender hasn’t included parcel tracking with the shipping.

Image Description: A screenshot of the AusPost app, showing a Parcel Locker and a Post Office under the Addresses tab

Another option, especially if you don’t have a parcel locker nearby, is to send the parcel straight to your post office. Again, you’re given a personalized number that you input like an address, and your parcel tracking appears on your app automatically. This is really useful for me in a lot of ways. My new house doesn’t actually have it’s own mailbox – such is the life of renting in Sydney – and the nearest parcel lockers are a bit out of my way. The post office, however, is about a 2 minute walk away, so I can just roll over to the post office and collect my parcel when it arrives. At the time of writing, I’m on a trip out of town, and I’m expecting a parcel, so I’ve decided to send it straight to the post office and pick it up next week, when I’m home. This would also be a good option for people who want to send items to an address other than their home address, but need to sign for the parcel to collect it.

 

These remote parcel collection options are something to think about if you want to retain a bit of anonymity. Whilst each parcel must be addressed to your full legal name, you can send it to any post office or parcel locker that you want, so you could send it to a different suburb to the one that you lived in. Anonymity is not something that I am particularly concerned about, but the small amount of privacy was still a comfort.

 

This little post office app has made my sex life surprisingly easier, and I hope that you can find something similar where you live, or jump on the AusPost App bandwagon if you live in the land down under.