After yesterday’s emotional post (well, it was emotional for ME, I don’t know about you), I need to lighten shit up around here. I can’t let things get too serious, otherwise, I’ll start crying…and pretty soon, we’ll all start talking about our feelings all the time and then, my male readers will start growing vaginas, and then it will be like one big tampon commercial, where we share our emotions, give each other those knowing looks, and we’ll all hug and crap like that. I’m not what you could call “comfortable with my emotions” so let’s talk about something more superficial, shall we?
I also love that they know the exact dates this guy had sex with the bodies. Did he keep a sex calendar or something? Like did he go home after having sex with these poor bodies and put a heart on the date with some xxxooo’s?
This story also got me wondering about what runs through this guy’s head the day after he does this stuff? I mean, I’ve done some shit in my life where I’ve felt guilty the next day. Could you IMAGINE? I don’t think the Walk of Shame in my clothes from the night before, or the hangover quite cover this situation though. Does he get a boner again thinking about it? Does he feel shame? Does he go to confession?
I’m also left wondering about the mechanics of the whole situation. I’m sorry people, if I’m grossing you out, BTW. But seriously…I wonder these things after reading stories like this. These poor girls are in the morgue, cold and dead. Does he hop into the refrigerated drawers with them? Are they in the missionary position? Does he cover them except for their genitals? Is he completely naked or does he just undo his pants? WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE? Thanks for making me wonder about your mental fuck-up-ed-ness.
OK, I think I’ve subjected you to enough of this. Until next time, friends…