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 inanimate little person 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 black women? 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.

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