So, if you have been around since the first teetering steps of the consumer Internet, technically nothing should startle you anymore. Even if a novel, specific instance of a thing occurs you should be able to place it in or near one of the holes this medium has already gouged in your psyche. But a website that lets you create arbitrary dildos you can then 3D print on your 3D printer and subsequently… admire (?) has no place in my taxonomy.
The urge to spell it "dildoes" is incredibly strong.
The old nomenclature for Penny Arcade destroying your site with traffic was "Wang," not my choice, but we don't always have control over these things. There are junctures where one must yield to the reins to the popular imagination. So Wanging a site whose sole purpose is to create Wangs or to reify Wang-Adjacent Structures exerts a potent gravity. But I don't want to create a scenario where you need a custom dildo right away and aren't able to make one. But you are clever, and the ways of this place are known to you.
In a brief yet harrowingly detailed poll, the percentage of women we know who want one of these hovers near zero. Indeed, the zero is the actual number. You may imagine that, given the exploratory and ritually profane nature of the work we produce here, I would be immune to frank discussions of these topics. You might imagine that at no point during these dialogues would I cover my mouth with my hand and stop breathing altogether. Except that happened like two seconds in and then was maintained until I saw spots. So what I learned was that I am highly adept at manufacturing ironic armor around these topics but that a discussion of any pragmatism or utility on these subjects makes me become a liquid and then try to flow between the cracks of the floorboards to escape.
Also: there was something else I was gonna oh right PAX SOUTH! PAX Sooooooouth.