I mean, it was only a matter of time before we got around to some adult who is obsessed with acting, dressing, and living like a baby. What a sexy obsession. Meet Stanley. He’s supposedly 31 years old, but doesn’t look a day over 47. I don’t think they mentioned, but if I had to guess his occupation I would assume it’s a toss up between the person who cleans out the “dressing room” at a Dollar Store and the person who scrapes the gum from under the table at your local KFC. Either way, impressive.
It doesn’t take long before we learn that as a child Stanley was a victim of child abuse. He didn’t have to point on the doll where he was touched, but I’m about to double down on dinky and buttocks. Diddling is never funny (except for wording alone), but had I known it would get me this awesome obsession and some TV time I would have most likely been a more aggressive alter boy in my youth…if ya know what I mean. If you don’t know what I mean, I’m talking about getting sexy for the priest in hopes of some over the robe fondling and a possible television deal. We all on the same page now? Perfect.
Our friend Stanley enjoys all things “baby” like sucking on a pacifier, drinking out of an actual bottle (yawn) and wearing diapers on the regular. Unfortunately they don’t make diapers that fit your typical slick-haired Two-Ton-Tessy so Stanley is forced to buy two sets of diapers and combine them so they can cover his fat ass. Sadly, Stanley can’t find a diaper big enough to cover his shame. Not to ruin it for him or anything, but how is he buying these diapers? Uh, babies don’t have money and can’t reach the register. Rookie mistake. We later learn that he even sleeps in a crib, watches his mobile as he drifts off into nappy-napperson, and even likes to build up some blocks and then knock them down on “destruction day.” What a real treat for the eyes this is. I swear to God if this guy is married I’m going to close my laptop on my penis and call it a day life. Now I don’t promote violence (unless, of course, it’s between two drunk homeless women or roosters living in a Mexican whore-house), but where’s that British nanny who shook that baby to death when you need her?
We quickly learn that Stanley and his rotten gums can’t really afford a lot of the legit “adult baby” things like a crib (for $2,000) or a highchair, so he’s built his own – ghetto style. He has a twin bed (shocker) and attached some sort of gate to it and is holding the whole thing up by velcro. And I’m pretty sure his highchair is a life-guards chair with a table on top of it. Looks like witty bitty baby is poor! At one point they show him eating his actual baby food and he claims he does this every day. Really, Pinocchio? Because I’m pretty sure you’re a few dozen lines over the 300 pound mark. Regardless, Stanny-Pants wants to be as authentic as possible. This includes going to a toy store to freak out the clerk, who looks like she’s about to take a shot of bleach and set her vag on fire once she learns all the toys are for him. However, no one keeps her cool better than the local seamstress who is being forced to create a “onsie” for (non)Flat Stanley. What’s awesome about this, besides everything, is that once we see the onsie it basically looks like two jersey bed-sheets staple-gunned together at the crotch and shoulders. Seriously, this is what Francis from PeeWee’s Big Adventure would be like if he were still around in 2012. I’m just assuming he’s dead and don’t have the strength to Google it.
In the end, Stanley is looking for a “mommy” on the Internet, but is having a hard time finding anyone who isn’t a whore and charge for her access to her coin slot. He does, however, find this one random broad who he invites over to “play” with him in a non-sexual way. Oh phew! Thank God he keeps referencing that this isn’t sexual in nature because I’m sure most women would be throwing themselves at the obese adult with black gums, greasy hair, and skid-marks in his homemade diaper. It’s like the personal ad writes itself. Nevertheless (bonus points for using that word), the chick that comes over to play mommy looks like Maude if, you know, Maude sold her box for currency. My favorite part of her is the sexy ankle and wrist tattoo that she’s sporting just like all mommies have. She, of course, feeds him his Gerber, plays cars with him, and even reads him a story as they both relax in his twin bed. How these two aren’t forced, by law, to introduce themselves to all their neighbors and not live within 10 miles of a school is beyond me. At the end of the day, my friends, this exists. I blame the birth of Myspace, but you may have your own ideas on why this has happened to society. If Stanley really wanted to be an authentic baby he’d get jaundice and book an appointment for a circumcision. Good luck with that. I hear the snipping tickles. I don’t recall. You know what, dude, it is destruction day.
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