Reviewed by Betti Mustang
(05/11/05)
Do not be alarmed if you purchase The Rabbit (which comes in either the Pearl -- pink with handheld control device -- or Habit -- purple with the controls directly on the toy itself) and you find yourself getting emotionally attached to your new friend, er...excuse me, vibrator.
This is natural and expected. The Rabbit, made by Vibratex, is by far the best combination sex toy that I have ever met, damn...excuse me again, used. It's got it all -- clit stimulation (found in the buzzing, flapping bunny ears) -- check. Vaginal stimulation (rotating shaft that's just the right size) -- check. The fun little area where your vagina opens stimulation (a rolling sack of "pearls") -- check. It twirls, it moves, it vibrates...it's the bomb, and to top it all off, it's an attractive toy to look at. It just makes me happy when I see it.
Vibratex is known to use only the best quality materials in their sex toys. This means that the Rabbit is totally safe to put in your body without thinking about the risk of cells mutating from cancerous plastic. Isn't that nice of him? Them? You won't find any of the nasty toxic-smelling fumes coming off Mr. Rabbit that you can get with the cheaper toys.
Cheaper. That reminds me. The Rabbit is high society and expensive. Yep, we're talking 80-90 bucks a pop. I know, you're thinking that it's a lot of clams to shell out for a sex toy. I'm taking a risk by saying this, but I'm going to do it anyway -- Money Can Buy You Happiness, if you use it to purchase a Rabbit. So do it. Just do it.
Funny story about the Rabbit. I bought one and instantly fell in love with it. I remember laughing hysterically (with it still inserted) after I used it for the first time -- not because it was funny (although dildos/vibrators are kind of funny), but because it was just so fucking fabulous. I mean, it made me come -- from a dry start -- in under a minute. Can you imagine how many orgasms you can have in a day with one of these things?
To make a long story short -- this toy is so fucking wonderful that someone actually stole mine out of my car. Never mind what it was doing in my car in the first place...someone stole it! That's just mean...mean, and gross. I thought about putting "Missing Rabbit" posters on telephone poles and bulletin boards, but I eventually realized that I was being a tad too emotional about the whole thing.
The day my Rabbit was stolen was depressing. It felt like I had gotten dumped, deserted. Where was my Rabbit? Who was he with? Was he okay? Did he miss me? I cried. I called my girlfriends. I cried again. I tried getting off without him, but it just wasn't the same. I cried some more.
I really wish that I was joking about all of this. Good thing he's been cloned and I can pick up an identical model online, or at my local sex shop. "Reunited..."
The Rabbit definitely gets a 10 on the Betti Mustang Scale.
