Hey everyone, we are diving headfirst into the weird and infuriating history of the female orgasm. We start with the big question that kicked this off: why don’t we have a complete picture of the clitoris and female pleasure until basically our lifetimes? Perhaps because for centuries, a whole lot of men decided women were just passive penis-shaped receptacles, and they really weren’t looking (or caring) very hard??

We follow the fascinating journey of Marie Bonaparte (Napoleon’s great-grandniece) who measured hundreds of women’s genitalia, became besties with Freud, decided her clitoris was in the “wrong” spot because she couldn’t climax in missionary, and actually had surgery (twice!) to move it closer to her vagina in hopes of achieving that “proper” vaginal orgasm. We roast the ancient Greeks (thanks, Hippocrates and Galen, for the inverted penis theory and the idea that the vagina and clitoris are in constant conflict) and Victorian doctors who declared most women aren’t troubled by sexual feelings...and how the whole “vaginal orgasm is the only feminine one” myth stuck around from ancient times straight through to Bridgerton.

Along the way we hit hysteria cures via pelvic massage (hello, hand-crank vibrators that look like medieval torture devices), Freud’s nonsense about rejecting clitoral pleasure to become a “real” woman, and the slow, glorious comeback thanks to researchers like Helen O’Connell who finally mapped the full clitoris with MRIs in the early 2000s.

If we don’t laugh at centuries of men getting female anatomy spectacularly wrong, we might cry. So grab a drink, settle in, and join us...it's going to get a little cringey fast.

We spill the spiked tea on all things Bridgerton...books, show seasons, and the highly questionable consent dynamics that somehow still deliver pure escapism. SJ dives deep while Kay experiences it all for the first time (no prior books or full seasons watched...up until the last 2 weeks), leading to debates over Daphne’s under-the-table sperm-jacking, Simon’s pull-out game, Anthony’s bee-sting tit-sucking heroics, and Benedict’s magically healed stab wound after a quick bandage and pond dip.

We roast the books’ “odd” virgin sex scenes, lack of real foreplay, and repetitive daddy-issues trauma, while praising the show’s slutty upgrades, addictive family dynamics, and Ariana Grande string-quartet bangers. We cover Penelope’s unnecessary book weight loss (thank you, Shonda, for keeping her hot), questionable Regency medical “exams,” why everyone still lives at home, and the upcoming queer twist with Michaela.

Also - is rake the sexiest word for man-slut? Why is Julie Andrews narrating spicy audiobooks? And is it accurate that the ton’s girls knew nothing about baby-making? Equal parts spicy critique, heartfelt love for the large-family vibes, and giggles...this episode is perfect for anyone who’s ever burned for a duke… or just wanted better historical medical accuracy in their smut.

Grab your tea (spiked?) and let's be total rakes together.

We dive into Rachel E. Gross’s fascinating book Vagina Obscura: An Anatomical Voyage. We explore how little science and society still know about female anatomy, from the clitoris’s sole purpose of pleasure to outdated treatments like boric acid (basically rat poison), and the long history of treating women’s bodies as mysterious “shame parts."

Along the way, we talk serious business like the time one of us inserted a tampon in the wrong hole, questionable “sushi lover” t-shirts, and awkward euphemisms like “front butt” and “marital vegetables." We talk about the daddy of medicine, Hippocrates, naming lady parts without ever properly studying them, duck vaginas that evolved for reproductive control, the unsurprisingly recent start of dedicated women’s health research at the NIH, and why female pleasure has been so overlooked for centuries. We wrap up with a quick tangent on the recent Chappell Roan hotel drama involving Jude Law’s daughter (...it wasn’t even her security).

Grab Vagina Obscura, laugh or cringe along with us, and remember: we don’t talk about vaginas enough, but we’re changing that...one quickie at a time.

In this episode of Good Girls, we talk about the Bachelor franchise’s latest disaster: ABC casting (and then abruptly canceling) Taylor Frankie Paul as the new Bachelorette just three days before premiere after a disturbing 2023 domestic violence video resurfaced.

We discuss the full mess...Taylor’s chair-throwing incident, the allegations of reactive abuse on both sides, ABC’s questionable due diligence, and the massive waste of time, money, and crew energy on a fully filmed season that will never air.

On a lighter note, we confess our own guilty pleasures: bonding with our dads over The Bachelor, hot-mic fantasy suite sounds, 90 Day Fiancé unhinged energy, and which reality show we would have wanted to be cast on in our single days (one of us votes Amazing Race, the other would have gone full chaotic lesbian on the Bachelor). We debate whether we’re all complicit in platforming chaos for entertainment, the blurred lines of “good TV” versus real harm, soft swinging Mormon wives, and why the franchise’s fairy-tale branding feels more parody than ever.

This ep is equal parts popcorn-worthy gossip, nuanced discussions, and self-aware roasting of our own problematic viewing habits. Grab your wine (or pasta sauce bowl) and settle in with us...things get messy.

We kicked off thinking we'd just lightly roast some overly polished Christian mom influencers, but oh boy, did the Instagram algorithm have other plans. We got stuck in a tradwife/biblical womanhood rabbit hole...SJ with a fresh fake profile starting from "stay-at-home mommy" searches, Kay with her own personal one tainted by years of smut and chaos, and surfaced with everything from homemade Cheez-Its superiority complexes to free birth horror stories, egg socks as fever cures, and Pearly Things casually dropping "whore" like it's punctuation. We unpack the weird one-sided "touch your husband" advice, the obsession with legacy-building through whimsical lunches, the anti-science vibes, and why we're so grateful we spent our 20s dating around, traveling, and making selfish choices instead of delivering babies in the woods. Grab a cocktail (or a tiki drink courtesy of a supportive husband), because this one's a wild ride through the shiny, scary side of mommy internet. Not the worst girls podcast, but definitely not trad.

In this episode, we dive into the question: are we really living through a “smut renaissance”? After reading a recent New York Times article on the rise of romance, erotica, and romantasy by Amanda Hess, we wanted to push back on a few of its more negative assumptions.

We talk about how smut actually fits into women’s lives: whether it replaces sex, enhances relationships, or just provides a little escapist fun after a long day. Along the way we discuss the difference between romance, romantasy, and true erotica, the rise of audio erotica and discreet Kindle reading, and why the idea that women can’t distinguish fantasy from reality feels a little outdated.

We also get into some bigger questions about modern culture...declining sex statistics, realistic expectations for men, and the idea that romance novels might actually help women articulate what they want in relationships. Plus, we react to everything from BookTok trends and hockey romance to anti-porn religious wife TikTok and the strange ways smut keeps getting blamed for broader social anxieties.

Finally, we wrap up with what we’re currently reading - from a delightful baseball romance (thank you Liz Tomforde for the delightful In Her Own League!) to a darker fantasy that has us questioning whether the male lead can possibly be redeemed (looking at you, Kane Ferron from Alchemized).

If you’ve wondered why people get so worked up about women reading romance, this episode is for you. Happy reading!

Hey there, Good Girls! If the news cycle has you needing a serious brain break and even your usual romantasy escape feels too grounded in reality (looking at you, 500-year-old fairies hitting on 20-year-olds), we've got the perfect unhinged palate cleanser.

This week, we enter the gloriously weird world of sentient object romance...books where everyday inanimate objects gain sentience, romance humans, and things get steamy. From doors with seductive knobs to balloon animal shifters with knot-ty surprises, pillows that explode in feathers instead of mess, and even a deviled egg with herbal...hair, we've read (and mostly enjoyed) these short, quirky novellas.

We trace the genre's roots , going back to Ovid and a 1700s French author whose name Kay certainly mispronounced. We shout out prolific and amazing genre authors like Chuck Tingle and Vera Valentine, and ponder why this niche is exploding right now.

Whether you're sentient-object curious, here for the giggles, or just need to laugh at how wild BookTok gets, grab your favorite (non-sentient) snack and join us.

Hey! This week we talk about the US men’s hockey locker room FaceTime disaster. You know the one: the president cracks a ‘joke’ about inviting the women’s team only if he’s impeached, everyone laughs along, and then most of the guys show up for the photo op anyway. We break down the fight/flight/flock response, and why we’re still talking about it days later...it’s not just this one thing—it’s the pattern.

We rate the skankiness level of everything man-ish from Prince Andrew’s Range Rover pic (still serving awkward cunt energy, but not the good kind) to performative male feminists, apolitical dudes, daddy influencers, and that Coldplay kiss cam CEO who got caught mid-embrace.

We then shift right over to how women aren't the most normal either...though less problematically so. We go from lighthearted Dramione fluff to dark, necromancy-filled Alchemized, voyeur-heavy Poison Daughter and Neon Gods (why is everyone watching?), sweet Ali Hazelwood escapism, and the absolute unhinged masterpiece Pushin’ Cushions—where a certain VP hopeful has a very intimate, demon-possessed encounter with a dirty couch. Women are so creative when we’re mad.

We wrap with airplane feet horror stories (keep them on the ground, please), a taxpayer-funded mile-high scandal we can’t unsee, and our ongoing quest to be good enough in this life for lesbian paradise next time.

Trigger warnings for politics, dark fantasy, and sentient furniture erotica. Grab a drink, settle in, and join us for the mess.