perversions ahoy!

Quick advertisement: Hey, I’m bartending at the L&L this Saturday on Clark and Belmont. Come down and marvel at my awesomeness.


Everyone in my house is sick. I’ve got a sick baby, a sick toddler, a sick wife and even a sick houseguest. The only person who is not moaning, dripping and hacking up crap is me. It goes to show what I’ve always known: my healthy lifestyle pays out dividends that can’t be overstated. I’ve tried to convince my wife to drink some seagrams this morning, or at least give some to the kids but she’s having none of it. My grandfather was such a seagrams enthusiast that he had 777 vanity plates (those were during the heady days of an innocent pre 9-11 America when driving and hard alcohol were as inseparable as cigarettes and cartoons) but she doesn’t care about the family lineage. According to her, there’s no precedent that allows for getting the kids drunk, and well, I guess we’ve already got enough problems with them both just shitting anywhere and getting pissed off and acting irrational, so I guess I see where she’s coming from, but still, I’m gonna stop suggesting things pretty soon if all my ideas are just gonna get instantly dismissed as ‘stupid’ or ‘cruel and illegal.’

Whatever. Let’s talk about fucking the dead today. My friend recently posted a picture on twitter of himself sucking the zombie penis of a corpse mannequin. The picture is disturbing and funny, and necrophilia is as fascinating as it is gross. It’s a subject that, once you learn about it when you’re say, 10, is never too far out of your general quiver of notions of ‘perversions.’ Necrophilia is vastly more a part of our conversations regarding strange proclivities than fucking animals or fucking pumpkins or slicing a hole in the couch and lining it with warmed up baloney and fucking that, but it’s also far and away the most disgusting.

Why is that? Well, wait…let’s back up. IS corpse fucking the most revolting of the perversions (I’m not counting horrible things like rape and kid touching and shit like that, which fall squarely in the ‘crimes’ category, though they’re also perversions, [and sure, fucking animals/corpses is a crime in most places and probably should be a crime everywhere, but you know what I’m saying; I’m examining the more perversiony perversions, not the more rapey perversions {and yes, I’ve heard all about how fucking animals is rape…pretty much everything we do to animals is rape, folks. It’s a very sad subject if you want to get into animals giving us their consent. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather be tenderly fucked by some weirdo than shot in the head, skinned and turned into a chalupa and a belt}]].

Here’s the big crux: fucking an animal is weird because presumably, you’re not supposed to find (let’s say) a penguin vagina attractive with a human libido/dong. Fucking corpses is weird because we spend almost every moment of every day trying to pretend that we’re not all eventually gonna die. We burn up and bury corpses (after we dress them up and paint them so they look like they’re alive) we hide our age spots and our grey hairs and we avoid the weak and the crippled and the infirm because they’re just that much closer to death than we are. We crave youth, life and vitality and EVEN those goth kids who go sit in the graveyard and all that, are experiencing life and shunning death by getting the visceral thrill of doing something that’s highly unusual and seen as weird and/or depraved.

But that’s not our corpse fucker’s MO. At least, it’s not his only MO (and it’s gotta be a ‘he.’ I SERIOUSLY doubt that female corpse fuckers exist for 2 distinct reasons). There’s no way. Here’s a scenario:

A beautiful woman dies. Let’s say she’s uh…strangled. She’s got some bruising on the neck, sure (and, well, she’s also dead…can’t forget that) but otherwise, she’s still the same beautiful human woman that would never in a billion years look at this disgusting and lonely morgue assistant/funeral home warehouse guy. The woman is there, she’s dead, she’s naked and well, she’s not gonna mind. The guy hasn’t been laid in so long. What’s the harm? It’s pretty victimless (unless you believe in the glass bottomed boat of heaven, in which case….uh, you’ve probably stopped reading already, so yeah…) and it’s sort of like getting to stand on the mound at Wrigley Field during a special tour.

Only very talented men have ever been here, and you’ve done none of the work to get there, but through this stroke of luck, you’re here, and sure, you’re not really worthy, but no one’s using the mound right now and….wow. Gross analogy. Didn’t really think it through, noun-wise.

Anyway, that’s my general take on corpse fucking in broad and reductive strokes: it’s the move of the person who just can’t get laid by the living. That’s maybe a pretty big reason why people take those jobs in the first place, though honestly I don’t know anyone in those industries and I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to besmirch the morgue/funeral/death trade. I’m simply speculating. There are, undoubtedly tons of altruistic, non-corpse fucking individuals who busy themselves with our dead, and I’d hate to offend them.

With Animals, it’s gotta be a specific urge, right? Like, you get hot for dolphins, so you feel compelled to fuck dolphins. But with the dead? Is it the same? I don’t know. I’m asking here. I think it seems logical that the people that fuck the dead are into weird shit, but what shit is it? It’s not easy to fuck a corpse. It can’t be. The logistics are almost impossible to wrap your head around. Firstly, corpses aren’t just available. Secondly, they smell and they’re hard. They smell bad enough to KILL you in fact (in the 1700’s it was not uncommon for grave diggers to be struck dead by the gasses trapped in a coffin when exhuming bodies [they eventually started burning the gas off, but you get the idea…the dead are unpleasant folks to be around]).

Honestly, I’m not trying to figure this all out today. I just kind of started typing and this came out. I’m as grossed out as you, so uh…I’m done. Bye. See you Saturday.