I’ve spent quite a few hours thinking about this particular aspect of a thorough ‘sex with the dead’ policy and I’ve come to the conclusion that I just don’t have it in me to flesh it out the way it should be done. Something about calmly and coolly explaining the difficulty one must necessarily face when confronted with the ethical dilemna that attends sex with a girlfriend, wife, or homeless chick in a persistent vegetative state makes this topic a non-starter.
I thought, at first, that it was just residual guilt from all the Terri Schiavo jokes I’ve heard and retold over the last year, but it really wasn’t. I think it’s more that I don’t want to be responsible for formulating a complete and logical set of policies that sanction humping the shit out of drooling, lifeless masses of brain-dead hotness.
I was talking to a friend of mine about this at a bar the other day and he said,
“I saw pictures of Schiavo before she turned into a bucket of Jell-O and she was pretty hot. I think if I got drunk enough and closed my eyes I could hit it and actually finish. The only problem I have is that I think I’d lose my hard-on if I rubbed up against her feeding tube.”
I thought about it for a minute and instead of condemning the entire conversation, all I could think to say was “well that certainly brings new meaning to the word ‘tubesteak.’” I’m pretty sure it was then that I knew I would not be able to write convincingly about the propriety of sex with vegetables. I mean, I’m used to vacant stares from women during coitus, but it’s usually either from boredom or years of systematic sexual abuse perpetrated by close male relatives. It’s never because they’re medically brain-dead…I think.
Maybe I’ll be able to muster up the courage at some point in the future. For now, I suppose it must remain the province of our collective wistful imagination, much like the possibility of quality primetime television or the equality of the sexes.
Quality prime time television?! House MD! Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if House tackles the subject of what is and is not appropriate to do to someone in a come sometime in the future. In fact, it kind of already did.
The difficulty with making a “sex with the dead” argument about someone in a vegetative state is that the person isn’t actually dead yet.
A thought: Has anyone tried sexual stimulation to rouse someone from a coma? It just might work, and then a kinky sex-with-vegetables fetish can not only be acted upon, it would be medically justifiable, even necessary, that it should be acted upon.
But I suppose something so obvious must have been tried already. Oh well. It was a nice thought while it lasted.
There is something seriously wrong with you. Do you have that much time on your hands to conjure up all this? It’s stomach wrenching.
Like the bells and whistles of a nickel slot machine, the positive reinforcement of the rapid beeps of the heart monitor keeps me coming back for more, no matter how depraved I feel.
Wait a minute, after typing up this gem:
“I shouldn’t be able to saw off her legs and make her my fuck puppet like King Friday from Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood. It doesn’t change how I felt about her. Sure, she may no longer be able to come when I say so, but she can at least help me come when I say so.”
You’re having problems writing up a position on the propriety of having sex with vegetables? Well, I guess you do have a soul afterwards.
I meant ‘after all’, not afterwards.
Terry Shiavo? You don’t think she got laid alot?
I think she got boned all the time I mean c’mon:
1. People love fucking famouse celebs.
2. It’s not like Terry could really stop people from having sex with her, I mean c’mon she is a vegetable.
3. If you bust a nut in her feeding tube she is forced to eat it, that in it’s self is getting my juices going.
She probably got stuffed all the fucking time.
Anonymous, you’re a fag. You’re probably the type that gets offended by religious cartoons and Bill O’Reilly. Get over it. It’s just another showcase of his vivid writing talent, talent which you can’t really appreciate with those retard blinders on.
How is Billy O’Reilly offensive? How is he at all on the scale of religiouse cartoons?
But anonyomous unless you searched the internet randomly and came upon this site then you must have seen the other sites hosted by festering ass befor you came here.
That means you have had plenty of time to “stop reading”. Why insult someone when they never forced you to read there writing and you must have known what was coming. I mean look at the previouse two entries, there both about fucking the dead, how can this be more offensive than that.
Y’all are goin’ to hell. I’ll be sure to save you a spot.
you know you have been in law school too long when you manage to quote things perfectly according to blue book standards, with indents on BOTH sides on your blog
sex with braindead people…mmm
Even still, the sad thing is this still isnt as fucked up as some of the shit on SCAP or Tuckers site. But I digress. Man, if this is to help you come to terms with your ex, then more power to you. I cant think of very many people I know who havent had wierd shit pop up in their minds right after breaking up. But, I digress. If your gonna be a big fat pussy and whine about this shit, then go read something else. Its Drunks site, he can post whatever the fuck he wants. And even if I dont agree with it, I still got a chuckle out of some of it. Get a grip. Its not like you have to take everything he says as gospel truth. Keep up the good work Man, dont let these pussies keep you from warping the rest of our minds.
I think we should get married. You can fuck my corpse anyday.
so, a couple of candy strippers are sponging off a turnip head in the hospital when they notice… everytime the rag passes over her feminine region… all the “smoke alarms” she’s plugged into start to honk…. so they go get the turnips hubby and tell him. they get the idea that perhaps some oral sex might rouse her from her status as a root veg… after a bit of thought …he agrees and enters to assist in this act of hope for the sake of medical advancement… the candy strippers, waiting in the hall… suddenly hear the flatline alarms hook up to the poor turnip and go running in to find the oddly calm man….”what happened?” they exclaimed…. “i don’t know” he says… “i guess she choked on it…..”
Ran across your blog while reading Bunny’s. Hilarious work, keep it up.
Your site and your ideas are poorly written and show a clear lack of intellience.
“Intelligence” that is
My my my…someone’s a little overly sensitive. Your ideas are clearly unconventional, but very intelligently and often eloquently expressed. As eloquent as one can get when discussing necrophelia, beastiality, and the combination of the two.
Is this true?
quote: When I was 4 and my brother was six we were both in the bathroom in nice clothes waiting to go somewhere and I dared him to pee on me and he did, lol.
I believe someone’s already tried the ‘sex with someone passed out’. I don’t believe it was an attempt to wake her up, though. A girl was raped while passed out by her stepfather after she’d done a shit load of drugs and was really really drunk. He dragged her upstairs and was discovered doing his stepdaughter.
That makes me wonder, though, if it’s different when it’s a drug/alcohol induced coma or if it’s for another reason…hmm…