Wednesday, March 2, 2011

I think there is something wrong with me...

I will be the first to admit I have a somewhat twisted sense of humor. As many know, black humor is a great survival mechanism when one has had a life that has been less than kind.

My love and I were talking about certain upcoming changes and how preparing for them has been quite stressful. She stated that "It isn't killing me yet", to which I replied "Hopefully it shan't" as "I'm not much for necrophilia". She then asked if I would make an exception for her to which I stated "For you, possibly. Though I would have to get a heating pad to keep you on as I think the cooling body might be a bit of a turn off". She then wisely pointed out that "But then I would decompose quicker. I'd rather not do that." I'm so glad she is so intelligent and thinks these things through.

Well this issue got me thinking further as to how one might solve the problem of keeping your deceased loved one in your life without all the annoyances of decay. I obviously first thought of embalming, though that never really lasts long and just prolongs the decaying process and I really wouldn't want to be left with the mother from Psycho.

It was then that I thought of a possible viable solution. I stated to her "OK, I just had an odd thought, you know those sex robots? Do you think you could get one specially made to resemble a dead lover?"

Now for those who know me, they have found that once I stumble upon an idea I have to take it to its logical conclusion, its absurdest form or its most disturbing. In this case I went with the latter two by continuing on with "And to take it even further, do you think it would go over poorly to take it to her funeral?" Now she is used to such things from me (she even indulges me in them or creates them herself) so instead of worrying about my sanity (which she has realized has long since vanished) she responds with "Maybe, depends on if you use it while you are there. I mean, better that than a proper date, right?" I knew there was a reason I love her.

Since she had indulged me, I continued (well I would have gone on anyway, but her doing so made it easier), "Perhaps even have it switched with the body during the wake and turn it on half way through." To this she replied "Well, I think that'd be pushing the tolerance a little." As I could tell I was taking this train of thought to its end, I settled with this as my final question, "Or if it took a while to get it made, bring it over to her parents for dinner a week or so after unexpectedly."

She would have continued our little conversation but she got distracted by her hamster, which had disappeared into the bowels of her room. And if there is one thing I know, it’s that it’s never good to have a rodent lost in ones bowels.
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