Remember the good old days, when sex was a thing you learned about from Cinemax or purloined magazines? Maybe that’s too old — do they still even make magazines? Remember when sex was something you downloaded after you told your parents you were going to do your homework? It was almost wholesome once, before the bad people got ahold of it and made that shit weird.

WARNING: This article is about sex stuff. Just go ahead and assume all links are not safe for work.


Sex Doll Rentals

A lot has been said about sex dolls over the years. The inflatable woman has been used to make someone the butt of jokes pretty much since it was invented, and lord knows anyone who would buy a sex robot is a freak, right? Imagine if women went out and bought fake penises to stimulate themselves with! Ha! Crazy.

Anyway, sex dolls haven’t fully integrated themselves into society yet, because we’re still a little weirded out by the idea of dressing up a toaster like a lady and giving it the old bologna bash. But even if you had a general understanding of that as normal, is there any way you’d ever share it with someone else? Touch, a Chinese company, had the perplexing idea to offer sex dolls for single-day or long-term use to those who wanted to pay for the privilege of renting them, like a Blockbuster Video of depravity. The company shut down after four days amid a ton of criticism … which was bafflingly directed at it being “bad” for society and not for it being gross as shit.

Renting a sex doll is like picking up a fleshlight you found on the street and thinking “Hey, I wanna fuck that.” The fuck you do! That’s gross as shit, man. You don’t need me to give you a PSA on disease or grime or crust buildup. That stuff is out in the world — hell, it’s basically Earth’s trademarked motto at this point. And I’m sure these things would get shoved into a dishwasher in between renters, but fuck that. What if the last dude hexed its vagina and now it’s Chucky or something? What if he put a microphone in its hair and is now sampling your sex sounds for a wicked dance track? Didn’t think of that while you were porking the communal squish mitten, did you?


The Ruined Sex Bot

Speaking of sharing the load, what’s the deal with tech conventions that include advanced sex robots? If I may prey upon tech convention stereotypes, I think that’s totally asking for trouble. “Hey, sweaty guys who are so passionate about gadgetry and electric forks that they pay money to attend an event in their honor, want to touch this fake lady who responds to your dong-centric advances?”

In a turn of events that should surprise no one yet still sadden us all, when Sergi Santos brought Samantha the sex robot to the Arts Electronica Convention, she was set upon by pervy tech nerdlingers like a ham being ravaged by malnourished coyotes.

Samantha, which costs about $6,000, is an intelligent sex robot that responds when you massage her breasts and whatnot. So a bunch of dudes got all up in her personal space until her fingers were broken and she was covered in filth. Apparently her breasts were “mounted,” but I have no idea what the hell that even means. Was that a little something that was lost in translation, or did someone actually hump this thing’s rubber boobies? Or did they cut them off and put them on a plaque like trophy hunters? More importantly, which answer would make you the least sad?

Santos was quoted as saying, “People can be bad. Because they did not understand the technology and did not have to pay for it, they treated the doll like barbarians.” And that makes sense, because isn’t that what you do with someone else’s porkbot? You finger-blast that thing ’til it’s badly soiled and in need of repair? Yeah, that’s what we all do.

Grossness aside, we’ve learned a valuable lesson from this: A sex toy in the hands of a group of lonesome Google enthusiasts is like … well, a sex toy in the hands of a group of lonesome Google enthusiasts.


Dead Wife Dolls

I can almost hear someone making an argument that what I’m about to tell you is not abject terror incarnate, and is instead sweet in a totally-not-psychologically-damaged sort of way. I know this because I have met people who think snails are adorable and that olives taste good. I get it. People like terrible things, everyone is entitled to an opinion. But I’m not wrong here. This is straight-up creepy.

I’ve tried to grow as a person over the years, and not judge others who don’t view the world the same as me. It’s a process. And apparently I haven’t hit the phase of that process where I understand the person who has a sex robot designed to look like their dead wife. And for the life of me, I cannot understand what the creator of the robot means when he says, “Maybe 50 per cent [of customers] are people who want a custom robot for family members.” Is he saying that half of their customers are buying sex robots as gifts for their family? Is he saying they want sex robots that look like a family member? What the fuck?

The dead wife doll is presented as something that would help the grieving process. Look, I’m no psychologist, but I have watched half an episode of Dr. Phil, so I feel confident in suggesting that you cannot and should not work out your grief by fucking their rubber doppelganger. Because that is goddamn insane. And when I use the word “insane” there, I don’t mean it in the “bizarre” sense. I mean that Hannibal Lecter would raise his hands in a nonthreatening manner and back the fuck out of your room if he saw it.

The fact that the designer also claimed that sex only accounted for about 10-20 percent of the reason people have these robots (he says the rest is for companionship and conversation) is also worthy of a facepalm hard enough to make your ears shoot off from the impact. I have no doubt that people have told him that, and I have no doubt that some people even talk to their sex robots. Just like I have no doubt that some people only watch porn for the scientific data on human sexuality.

If you’re going to dabble in the erotic robot arts, then at least be honest with yourself, since you’re in a room with a robot that can’t judge you in the first place. Go ahead and make one that looks like a super-stacked redhead with full lips and blue eyes, man. Don’t make one that looks like a corpse, because that’s how horror movies start.


Bobblehead Dildos

In any sexual situation, no matter what your kink, I would hope that your enjoyment signifies success. If you like being degraded, or you’re into the odd flogging, or you like a good bacon grease burn on the asshole, whatever goes with it, you need to feel like it was pleasurable in the end (or front, or whatever). If that’s not accomplished, then sex was ruined.

But that being said, you should never insert someone’s tiny head into your fun hole. I will concede that this is probably a great idea to someone. Some one. But the Wobbling Willy dido is a device with a small silicone head molded to a terrifying doll caricature with any face you want right at the base. Their little mug will get buried in your folds like Artax sinking into the Swamp of Sadness. In general, humping a bobblehead is maybe a bit left of center, but no big deal overall. There are worse hobbies, like watching that show Bull. But it’s the transition to “the bobbly head of someone I know” that makes it weird.

On their site, I started the process of ordering one to see how it works, and immediately uploaded a photo of Ted Cruz. Fuck me, this lawless land of dildo chaos allows you to make a Cruz schlong! Ted Cruz looks like if boredom and the sound of sleep screams had a baby with a shitty haircut and a smug demeanor. Do you want that shit plunging near your murky grotto? Fuck no, you don’t. I mean, I know you’d never order that, but now you know someone could.

For the sake of my sanity, I didn’t finish the order, but I still have a nagging fear that something accidentally went through and that shit’s in the mail right now. If so, I’m going to slightly burn the side of it and send it to someone in the mail with no return address included, because that’s hilarious and awful. And it also happens to be the only legitimate way I could think of using this thing.

You have to be a little crazy if you want to stay ahead of the game in the sex toy industry. There are only so many innovative ways a person can get off with a foreign object, and we’ve probably designed all the good ones already. But that doesn’t give anyone the right to decide it’s time to make new dank sex toys forged from silicone nightmare fuel that will appeal to the kind of person who stares openly at an eclipse, at the cost of making the rest of us now imagine a Ted Cruz dildo.

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