When Ta-Bo, a middle-age salaryman, returns home from work each night, he is greeted not by a loving wife, a loyal dog or even a doting mom, but by several life-size, anatomically correct, sex dolls arranged neatly on his living room sofa.

Talk about fucking creepy! I couldn’t even see that horror movie “Magic” with a young Sir Anthony Hopkins without having nightmares. True a scary, little dummy with an attitude is different from a leggy babe with parted lips and enormous breasts. But they are both inanimate and made to look like real people which means you basically have a dead dwarf or a comatose model “watching” television in your living room. Either way, I’m not coming over for dinner.

Ta-Bo says that he turned to his sex dolls for comfort because it took too long to have sex with a real woman: the dating, the dinners, the phone calls, the seduction. Ta-Bo basically wanted to cut through all the bullshit and go for broke. So he turned to the Orient Industy Co. and their wide selection of dolls.

I wonder if they are all Japanese-like dolls, or Asian. Do they get orders from men preferring African-American women with fros? Latinas with Jennifer-Lopez asses? Pygmies?

But who are we to judge? If a man doesn’t want to have traditional relations with a real woman and instead wants to get his rocks off inside a literally brainless bimbo, what’s the harm? It’s not like he’s out there molesting children or groping women on the subway. Live and let live. C’est la vie. No matter how twisted and fucked up it makes the Japanese appear to the rest of the world.

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