PLUG #2: Real Hymen Sex Doll
I haven’t shit in 3 days. I am as bloated as those little African kids on commercials on public access at 4am, minus the flies hovering around my emaciated, living corpse. I’m so full of tacos and drugs right now that I could burst open at any minute like the papier mâché drug mule piñata at a Mexican cartel kid’s birthday party. I am not a qualified product reviewer. I am simply another chump who has stumbled upon the holy grail of sex toys and must share this treasure with his fellow degenerates.
I seek nothing in return, beyond the vicarious satisfaction of another mortal soul climaxing from the grandiose depravity that is Japan’s sex industry. Welcome to the belly of the beast.
Nothing proves the extraordinary evolution of sexuality like a bleeding Japanese sex doll. Let’s be honest here, the Japanese have far surpassed the West in their sexual liberation, as if the radiation from our atomic bombs seeped into their souls and converted their World War II-era barbarism into glorious perversion. But cartoon sex and eel porn have nothing on this plastic pleasure piece. When you think of masturbatory aids, your mind conjures up delicious images of fleshlights and blowup dolls, possibly even zombie-themed dildos and dolphin-shaped vibrators. But what you don’t ever consider, not even for a second, is the pure unadulterated turn-on of a girl bleeding from her holiest of holes.
Behold, the orgasmic prototype for dystopian sex dolls. A headless, soulless, quadriplegic spunk cubby, replete with red squirting innocence. One that bleeds not only after every unholy penetration, but before and during each raunchy act of man-on-object love making. This is sexuality’s Moon Landing, marking the end of straight, terrestrial man-on-woman love. Why waste your time with the real thing when you have access to an honest-to-goodness fake-bleeding, inanimate sex goddess?
I have savored every last virgin that I have desecrated, relegating my bloody sheets to the garbage time and time again, their dirty destinies fulfilled. And I have thrived off the kind of sloppy sex known only to those accustomed to single-serving love at 4am, trashed on whiskey neats and truck stop burritos. But thanks to the iniquitous ingenuity of the Japanese, you don’t have to slog through the same sexual netherzones of my squalid existence. You no longer need women and their scorn. You don’t need to feel guilty for hijacking their virginities anymore. You can stop getting trashed just to convince yourselves to bang subpar skanks. Wake up and harness the power of the Forever Virgin Sex Doll. Emotionless. Sterile. Beautiful.
Say goodbye to those awkward mornings of butterface breakfasts. Stop going home with tragic sea donkeys just for a safe place to crash and a warm hole to fill. Now, when you’re too drunk to drive home, do it anyway… because bloody Mary is waiting for you to pump her full of shameful love. Just don’t die balls deep within this Next Generation sex toy, because no one wants to explain to your mother that you couldn’t get off unless it was in the cold nether regions of a plastic Asian pussy, legless and cut off at the torso, as you pump fake blood into the very thing that sets you into fake-sex bliss.
Fuck it, we’ve already written your eulogy: True love is a murder scene.