RealDoll : Necrophilia Edition

In the modern world of online dating, and the availability of “adult services” all over the internet, one would think that hookin’ up with someone shouldn’t be too difficult. There are so many ways to go out and find yourself a live warm one to take home with you, and whether that leads to 1st Base action and a kiss on the cheek goodnight, or slammin’ a homerun with two hookers dressed like characters from Hogan’s Heroes feeding you sushi rolls with their baby-oiled feet, there are unlimited numbers of ways to make it happen. Craigslist. Match.com. Swingersspace.com. Christianmingle.com. Hookerswithbabyoiledfeet.com.

Wearing the Hitler stache is gonna cost you extra

You want it, there’s a website for your favorite flavor, and for the right price, it’s yours. Hell, you could even take yourself a shower, put on some big boy/girl clothes and go to a bar, get yourself and a willing participant liquored up and hey, the world is your oyster (on the half shell) ((Aphrodisiac reference, kinda fits)).

So when I read a story about a Russian guy in Russia (is it even Russia anymore?) who was caught with 29 female corpses in his house that he dug up from various cemeteries over the last year, and then dressed them up like dolls, the only question that immediately jumped into my mind was … “Where in the hell did they all sit?”. I mean I’ve got room for about 5 or 6 people on the couch and various chairs, MAYBE 8 or 9 if I use the dining room chairs, and the 4 or 5 people who sit on the floor, I’m good for a strong 13 people max. But 29? That’s a freakin’ wedding reception, I’d have to rent a hall, white plastic chairs, tables, linen and obviously a DJ to entertain those freeloaders.

I don’t need no stinkin’ drinks … let’s get NASTY !!

Then the second question races in … “Did you get anyone to help?”. Seriously, that’s a lot of labor. Scoping out the cemetery, learning the timing of security, groundskeepers, foot traffic, road traffic, lighting, digging, lifting, cleaning up afterwards, driving them home, hauling them inside without anybody seeing, dressing them like a Madame Alexander, propping them up, making sure they’re comfy. AND THAT’S JUST ONE !!! Now go and repeat that craziness another 28 times? No thank you. I remember how hard it was just to go into my own backyard and pick up dog shit with a hand trowel and a plastic grocery bag.

So hats off to you Anatoly Moskvin, that is some serious dedication and devotion to never being lonely. And it just goes to show that not everybody needs a computer, a website and a credit card to find Mr. or Mrs. Right, just a sturdy shovel and a little bit of elbow grease … just like how our great-grandparents used to do it.

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