Sue McGarvie, International Sex, Relationship and Libido expert
Sue has been an expert guest on over 400 television, press and radio interviews in her over 13 years as an International Sex Expert. Highlights include CTV Newsnet, CNN, Canada Am, USA Today, McLean’s Magazine, Chatelaine Magazine, Men’s Health Magazine, Dose magazine, Metro Magazine, UMM, Maxim Magazine, Flare Magazine, Global News, CHUM City, Breakfast Television, Penn and Teller, and radio shows in Europe, Hong Kong, 32 US states and coast to coast in Canada.
Told she talks in sound bites, Sue’s expertise is in sex in mainstream media, sex and sexual harassment in the workplace, human sexuality, marriage counseling, and sex in popular culture. She is available as a last minute guest and can be reached in EST at suem@rogers.com on her blackberry.
Here are a few links of interesting articles for which Sue’s expertise has been sourced.
www.cbc.ca/news/viewpoint/vp_binks/20031103.html
http://lifewise.canoe.ca/SexRomance/2005/02/27/pf-944540.html
www.tantra-sex.com/speakers.html
http://www.google.com/trends/hottrends?q=bubble+wrap+appreciation+day&date=2010-1-25&sa=X
Being only first generation Canadian of Scottish parents, I have celebrated my share of Robbie Burns days. Think haggis, scotch, cold mutton and other Scottish culinary delights. It may have been on one of those days that I first discovered that a true Scotsman doesn't wear anything under his kilt. Smile. So in keeping with my ancestry of rutting in a dark cave somewhere, I encourage you to think about Liam Neeson (the guy with the biggest equipment in Hollywood) in Rob Royor Mel Gibson in Braveheart and find some Scottish inside of you today.
I also found out that it was the 50th birthday of bubble wrap. That great packing material you always wanted to pop when you were a kid. As I work on my new list of erotic ideas (you know, crazy suggestions for keeping it hot in the bedroom), I think there has to be one that includes both some kind of Scottish apparel and bubble wrap. Not necessarily together, but imagine the possibilities. I wonder if they make plastic in a tartan pattern….
www.sexwithsue.com
I had dinner with Gene Simmons and Shannon Tweed last night. No, it wasn’t an intimate evening, Blaik and I were among 200 others celebrating “a welcome back to your hometown, girl’s done well” day in Ottawa. Yup, Shannon, the siginificant other to Kiss’s legendary front man is from sleepy old Ottawa. Home to sex therapists, porn stars, and the former 1982 Playmate of the year.
And Canadians from other cities often joke with me when I travel, “that people in Ottawa don’t have sex.”
Anyway, Kiss is in town playing Bluesfest, and so the two of them both have a reason to be having dinner in the capital. I think Gene Simmons is sexy. Not because I like aging rockers with wild hair, but because he’s a marketing genius, has a sense of humour, and isn’t afraid to speak his mind.
http://network.nationalpost.com/np/blogs/posted/archive/2009/06/06/287638.aspx
http://www.inquisitr.com/25288/shades-of-michael-hutchence-in-david-carradine-death/
You may have heard that David Caradine died last week by accident during a session of kinky masturbation gone terribly wrong. So under the "don't you dare try this at home folks", let me give you the "sex therapist's" take on what autoerotic asphyxiation is and why guys like David Carradine, and Michale Huchence (formally of INXS before he died) get their jollies cutting off oxygen to the brain.
For awhile in the early 80's you could find "popers" at some of the less regulated sex shops. They were little pills that were "quasi- street drugs" that apparently made sex better. I haven't seen any in years, but the nitric oxide (hormone that helps trigger erections, and impacts heart medication) in the popers apparently gave you a head rush and made orgasms more intense. Apparently you can get the same head rush by near strangling yourself during masturbation (and also kill off a bunch of irreplaceable brain cells, and run a fair risk of killing yourself), so it is extremely dangerous. This rush is the reason that some guys use a slip knot, their teeth and a noose of knotted rope to hang themselves in hotel closets in Thailand (as Carradine was found). Pictures of Carradine's naked body have made their way to a Thai tabloid, and imply that he was dressed in lingerie and a wig. Most guys use a cloth between the rope and their neck to diminish the rope marks, and have some sort of porn used for sexual stimulation, (Carradine apparently had neither), and whenever I come across this behaviour as a therapist I know it can never end well. As in the song that my kids sing "oh, everyone makes mistakes, oh yes they do."
Sad for his family, puts a graphic and tawdry spin on his death after a great career, but for me it is just another reminder that everyone has some sort of kink. No matter how famous and seemingly "put together" they are. The longer I'm a therapist, the more that I know that everyone has a fantasy, fetish, sexual preference, or past exploit that is unique and their private kink. Be as kinky as you want, but don't try this one. It will kill you sooner or later.
And then the jokes begin. As Rick Currie, the comic I heard Thursday night say "is it too early to use the phrase Hung Fu".
Have you been following this story? Man, the price of fame. Apparently, Christie Brinkley is divorcing her husband Peter Cook, who was caught boffing his teenage intern/office assistant.
It seems that even if you have been named one of the “most beautiful women in the world” you are still at risk to get thrown over for the younger woman. I guess even supermodels have difficult relationships. My sweetie says that men at their basic levels categorize women into the “doable” and “not doable” groups. I’ve said it before. I don’t think women get how horny men are, and it’s better to be open sexually, than have it pop up with the apple in your office.
Christie and her life (and sorrid details) are again front page news. It’s the reason I won’t ever run for office (I was very flattered to be asked to run Provincially – but can’t imagine a worse fit for me). I don’t want any job where I have to apologize for who I am. I rule my life with the mantra that I do no harm, and try not to live to embarrass my kids. All that to say that I’m feeling for Christie and her kids when I read this, but wonder about the lure of 18 year old interns for middle aged men. Even when you seem to have everything the temptation is there.
www.schoolofsquirting.com, www.solveprematureejaculation.net, www.sexwithsue.com, http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,439044,00.html
I was asked to do a comparison of Canadian and American sex differences by McLean;s for their upcoming Canada Day issue. Here are some of my thoughts (having lost the first edition of this blog, I'll get to the steamy stuff later….
Every time I cross the border into upstate New York (and you can see the border from my parent's house on the St. Lawrence), I am astounded at the differences. It's less than 200 yards from my old bedroom window and you can dingy across the river, but the American's speak differently, have different clothes, different phrases and very different attitudes.
Despite a media frenzy of Calvin Klein ads, they really are much, much more uptight about sex than we are here. In Canada, we are hypocritical (ie sex for money isn't illegal, just talking about it is), but the US is far more puritanical. Everything from how they censor their politicians (and everyone has some sort of sexual quirk), to how they sell sex toys seems to be a duality of sorts. We are headed to a more European approach to sexuality, while the Church has a far greater impact on their state (and subsequent sex policies) than they do here. And the politics are the right, and the far right. So, it still is a "do what I say, not what I do" culture. Remember it's the second most powerful drive, and it only pops up without an outlet. The sex offender numbers there astound me. As for sex ed, I really blame the whole Bush doctrine of abstinence only education. (the only kind of sex ed programs that got funded). Almost every kid (Christian or not) will give into their raging hormones when given an opportunity. If all they can only say "no" it precludes planning for pregnancies, and STI's. There are far more inner city kids proportionally, who grow up in a culture of teen's having babies, and in their world, it is socially condoned. In Canada the same group of marginal young women get pregnant (to get out of home, get someone to love…etc) but it isn't growing at a significant rate comparatively.
I had a bunch of tiny, low sex driven female patients again this week. Something about those size two women who can’t seem to get motivated to have sex, despite great relationships, and hunky husbands. Besides the obvious physical problems, they just can’t think of a reason to do it. They reach orgasm, but besides the few minutes leading up to their climax, they weren’t that excited about the whole processof making love. It struck me that maybe we sex therapists weren’t asking the right questions. Maybe we should ask what are the reasons people want to have sex?
It turns out that I’m not the first person the think of this. A psychologist at the University of Texas asked a group of undergrads "why they have sex", and was treated to 237 different reasons. Nothing as interesting as JFK’s comment that "it made his back feel better", or Joan Crawford and " how sex improved her complexion". But there were a few cool ones like; "I wanted to feel closer to God” to “I was drunk.” They even found a few scary women who claimed to have been motivated by the desire to have a child. Run freshman run.
The researchers, Cindy M. Meston and David M. Buss, believe their list, published in the August issue of Archives of Sexual Behavior, is the most thorough list of sexual motivation ever compiled. Another fun job thinking of new things about sex to ask unsuspecting students. A few of my other favorites on the list were "that someone dared me", or that "I was bored", has me thinking that maybe the sex isn’t that good out there. There was no comments about earth-moving, toe curling orgasms, which is usually my primary motivation for horizontal dancing. I invite you to think about yours. 
I was watching the hockey game last night at a place called Mort’s pub (the Senators crushed the Leafs 8-2 and banged their little pointed heads into the ice). With the beer and testosterone flowing, it struck me ( as it does) just how much sports and sex have in common. In hockey it’s playing between the periods, stick handling, and "taking it upstairs to score". They were also talking about getting into the playoffs "through the back door, not the front". In golf it’s "putter play, the small balls, holes in one", baseball about hitting the bases, sliding, and diving in to the pocket. In tennis think "40 love, grand slam etc., you get the metaphors.
A few years ago when I had the chain of love and romance stores (and during the hockey strike) we came up with these ads linking sex and hockey. They were picked up by a few sports radio guys (who had nothing else to talk about I Guess), and were a big hit. Everyone understands that beings sweaty, competing for a big payoff, and trouncing your enemies has a quasi-sexual feel to it. In Canada, where hockey is a religion, and it was a way to have fun and celebrate how more women were probably getting more sex since there was no hockey to watch. At least there seemed to be an increase in babies born the fall after the hockey strike. I should talk, my son was conceived during the ice storm on those long, dark winter nights with nothing to do.
Since there are no plays on the ice, why not take it upstairs?
If you re game, we can help you get into some heated
negotiations with no chance of a lock-out.
The only place left you can still score…
So I’ve been missing for awhile again. This time I’ve been exploring the wilds of South Africa on Safari, living a Survivor episode rather than watching one. I’ve got so much to blog about, so expect some flurries of my erotic musings over the next few weeks as I catch up after a month away.
I went on safari at Mkuzi Falls (stayed in abject luxury a la Meryl Streep in Out of Africa), dappled my feet in the Indian Ocean in Pennington, went to the coolest crocodile farm in the world (home to Henry, the largest croc in captivity)
, saw pengiuns and baboons (I kid you not) living wild 20 minutes apart in Cape Town, and got to enjoy the hospitality of South Africans, in their three largest cities.
Needless to say it was a very cool trip. The more I travel, the more I see that everyone has got the same unquenshing curiousity about all things sexual. At home, I am often stopped by my neighbors, people in grocery store line ups, and by random phone calls from people with questions, all wanting to be better in bed, and having concerns about whether or not they are normal. The older and wiser (ha!) I seem to get, the more I understand that we all the same. A message about sameness is certainly needed in the racial divide that South Africa is. Four distnict racial group, with very little intermingling between them. But as an outsider, they all seemed open, welcoming, and socially similar. Sure the Zulu men I met (Hi to Jabulani, my guide) had some views about sex that would make most feminists cringe. And an overall they HIV rate of 40%, so safe sex takes on a whole new meaning. And I think it would be heart renching to fall in love with someone outside your racial group. But people are people. That message keeps coming home for me. And when I tell them what I do, (crazy, mis-guided sex therapist), everyone’s reaction is the same. Sex? We are all interested, curious, and driven.
As for my own sex life, in Africa, where the rising sun coming up over the bushlands in what is the cradle of humanity, sex seems very primitive. This is where we came down out of tress, and learned to huddle together to escape the night predators. Make babies, nurse our babies, and try to raise them in a dangerous environment. Sex outside with lions howling in the distance, under a cloudless sky ranks feels as raw, and wild as you would imagine. I likened it to the movie Jurassic Park. Snarls and swooping things all at the outskirts of the lodge ready to pounce. Slightly dangerous, but oh so hot.
It’s November 1st in Canada, and instead of digging out from the first snowfall of the year, I saw someone in shorts yesterday. Almost hit 18 degrees for a very civilized Halloween. Maybe there is something to this global warming thing. Time to watch the Al Gore documentary again.
Anyway, I’m in the park, sequestered behind some bushes yesterday and had what my sweetie called was "a Snow White moment", when all the birds and squirrels start to gather around us. What is it about being close to nature that makes me want to take my clothes off and celebrate a mother earth moment with hot, sweaty, sticky sex in a semi-public place? Not with seven dwarf (I’m not that twisted), and I didn’t give into the urge, (I have in the past when I wasn’t so bloody virtuous). But I certainlyfelt like it. It struck me as a Monty Python moment. Frolicking naked hiding behind a tree from the flock of Japanese tourists a la John Cleese. I’ve never been arrested for being lewd in public but the urge is there. Kind of like wanting to pull the fire alarm just to cause mischief. But in this case I can picture the whole thing. Pine needles stuck to my back, grass in my hair, and trying to muffle my moans so I wouldn’t attract seniors out for a mid day stroll. For a variety of reasons it wasn’t the time or place. I wonder if that I didn’t initiate anyway is a reflection on my increased maturity that I didn’t act on it. Probably not. And on that note, I think I’ll check what the weather will be like today?
I’m on a list serve of The Erotic Writers Association. If somebody is doing an erotic anthology, or looking to publish a Harlequin-like serious bodice ripper, here is where they go looking for writers. The requests are serious, and you never know what they might be looking for. Here are a couple of postings over the last week that caught my fancy. The first, made me giggle. I’ll just paste it here, as it needs no further introduction.
Maybe it’s the kilts or the accents or even the mythical beauty but whatever it is we love Scottish men. Here’s your chance to impress us with your hottest, most scintillating Scottish tale ever! But we have a way to make these heavenly hunks even hotter…How you ask? By making them creatures of the night! Each of the Scottish leads has to be a creature of the night; be it a Vampire, werewolf, gargoyle, go ahead, impress us!
The second, a search for porn journalists to review adult movies for an online adult magazine. The pay is dismal, as a friend said last night, it has to cover the bottle of Scotch for boys night for it to be worth it. But you get to keep all the copies of the movies they send you. Free porn, and you get to give it two er thumbs up if you find it stimulating. Here’s the contact for the budding porn critics in the group. Smile.
Adult Entertainment Today
http://www.aetoday.com
tom@aetoday.com
Sitting around another campfire last night. This one where everyone in the group was naked (more on that later this week as I explore my inner nudist), but as the conversation drifted to weekend gynaecology from the guys sitting around, a universal truth struck me that will no doubt resonate. It doesn’t matter what you have, how old you are, or if you’ve gotten it in the last five minutes, guys are thinking about sex. I know, I know no big news flash Sue, but it constantly suprises me how horny men are, and how few women truly get that basic fact of life. I’ll be back in a few hours with more insight, but hold that thought….
Okay, part 2. As I scratch the mosquito bites on my ankles from this week’s campfire I wanted to elaborate on the first part of this unfinished post. During the conversation with a group of thinking men (the only kind I hang with) the campfire boys articulated very well the push pull of sexual integrity, and carnal pleasures. Like using porn and feeling guilty for it, trying to keep eye contact, depsite the push up bra, and getting the jolt of phermones and keeping from obviously leering erectly, are a few of the examples that seem to torment guys. It was in conversation with a few men whose vasectomies finally lowered their sex drives enough to get some work done that helped me put a close to this train of thought. The constant- just-below-the-surface urgency of sexual desire seems almost liberating when it’s gone. I need to have more sympathy, and encourage my friends and patients to do the same. It’s another Robin Williams joke again, about two heads with only enough blood to run one at a time. I think far more of men than just that, but then again, when it comes to sexual desire, it may not be far from the truth.