My Crazy Obsession: Sex Dolls Recap: Mayfee is Being a Wicked Bitch

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It’s time for another crapisode of “My Crazy Obsession” or as I now like to call it, “Talking to Lifeless Objects 2:  Electric Boogaloo.”  Not for nothing, but I’ve decided I only want to watch television shows were grown adults care for lifeless objects, like myself.  This time around we’re leaving the United States because, well, we’ve hit tilt on the “bat-shit-crazy-o-meter” after the last Cabbage Patch episode and it’s time to show other countries can be as white trashtastic as us.  Enter:  Sex Dolls.  Bob and Lizzie wanted to spice up their marriage like most couples and decided the easiest way to do this was to spend over $150,000 on sex dolls.  Duh!  Clearly, when things get a little boring the first and only fix is human-sized dolls.  If you haven’t seen this yet, picture what would happen to your beloved Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls if they got hooked on meth and got slutty and got slutty quick.

Bob wants to make sure it’s crystal clear that he never has sex with these dolls or “makes love” to them.  He says “that’s not what I do.”  I mean, he says this as matter of fact as you or I saying that we don’t add cinnamon to our blueberry muffin recipe.  I have so many favorite parts.  I love how they position these dolls in various poses all around the house.  One chick is literally sitting playing the drums, you know, as most of your sex dolls do.  Half of these dolls look like Kim Zolciak and the other half look like Joyce DeWitt.  Truth be told I think it’s only fair to say that I’m pretty sure the actual Joyce DeWitt was in the background at one point…as she was expected to be.  They all have their mouths ajar like they just saw Bob’s shriveled up ding dong dangling in the wind.  I mean, let’s call a spade a spade.  Bob is totally cleaning their mouths with his Winky Claus whilst Lizzie is likely taking home movies on her 1989 Sony Camcorder that rests on your shoulder and still records via a standard VHS tape and had silver duct tape wrapped around the handle, you know, for comfort.  If you don’t know what 3 of those words in the last sentence meant, please stop reading as you are too young.  Now get outta here before I call the cops.

We learn that these sex dolls will run you a cool $4500, but that includes the doll itself, her lingerie, a flower that represents her virginity (that goes without saying), and instructions.  Uh, I’m pretty sure that the fact that their mouths are in a permanent “O” position is all the instruction that you need.  Perhaps they tell you to Febreeze them?  Or maybe you just hose down their “gentlemen greeters” with Red Door.  I’ll assume the later and you should too.  However, I’ll let you know proper cleaning techniques once my doll arrives.  I’ll probably train her to blog for me,  bob for apples on my lap and, of course, Electric Slide like tomorrow isn’t promised to us.  My stuffed animals are totally getting an upgrade (and a babysitter)!

The “house” we soon find out is getting a little too crowded for all $150,000 worth of life-sized Bratz Dolls.  So, Bob and Lizzie scatter these ho’s to and fro all around their dump.  This entails piling them up in the spare room, stuffing them in a Jeep in the garage (I mean), and placing them in the most logical place you could think of which is, of course, wood coffins.  Now, I usually store my McDonald’s Teenie Beenie Babies collection in wooden coffins but I think I can make room.  When not jamming these mute tramps into a death box, Bob spends time dancing with them all whilst Lizzie sits on the couch next to the other dolls looking like a wallflower waiting to get picked.  Don’t get Lizzie wrong, however, she loves this.  She claims that before she and Bob got all the dolls they really didn’t do much together.  That’s nice.  If she was looking for a hobby perhaps she could have tried Yahtzee or Farmville?  Make a Myspace page.  Get crazy!  But how come Lizzie can’t have any male dolls around the house so that she can play “Weekend At Bernie’s” too?  Surely there are some dolls that look like Arthur Fonzarelli or Dave Coulier.  Lizzie should be allowed to get creeptastic too!

Apparently there is a “real way” to clean these dolls because Bob and Lizzie strip down one of the dolls, remove her head (like any good and practical doll collector would do) and give her a sponge bath in the tub.  They don’t fill the tub with water as it is well known this can rust the inside of the doll.  Only losers don’t know that factoid.  After a nice bath they powder down the doll and rub lotion on her feet, which likely get dry due to all the walking she does doesn’t do.  Did I mention they’re paying extra attention in the tub to this doll because they bought her online?  Oh yeah, they totally did.  The best part is when Bob was on the phone with the original owner he had to ask if this doll was a virgin and then settled with the fact that she was only lightly used a few times.  That’s code for “I was drunk and lonely one night and my hand was tired.”  It’s a nice quality to be able to crack codes like this.  They name her Anna Marie.  Wonderful.  The wife clearly has no say in any of this and is totally jealous.  While Anna Marie is the new girl in town, their favorite doll is Jessica.  She weighs 110 pounds, costs $11,000, and has an internal heating system that can raise her body temperature to 99.5 degrees.  So…she’s sick?  I don’t follow.  Yeah, my sexy doll has a low grade fever.  So hot!

When it’s “field trip” day they end up taking one of their dolls out (whose face they seem to take on an off along with her eyes like she’s Mr. Potato Head), dress her like a slutty policeman and bring her out for the day so they can take pictures of her in front of a police station.  They prop her up on this steal contraption that Bob built and she’s standing there in a pose that says, “Welcome.  I’m open for business.”  Her bowlegged stance brings all the boys to the yard and they’re like, I’m better than her.  Damn right, I’m better than her.  I would teach you, but I’d have to charge.  You know, or something like that.  Either way, an actual cop with a standard reality-show-blurred-face comes up to them and makes them leave because apparently you can’t dress a life-size sex doll like a police officer and take pictures of her in front of a police station with a camera crew.  Who knew!?  I mean, Bob and Lizzie can’t be expected to know all the laws!

Like anyone who collects dolls/stuffed animals for a living we know one thing is for sure and that is the fact that they’re going to talk to these dolls like they’re real people and threaten to punish them if they’re bad.  Enter Mayfee.  What a real b*tch Mayfee is.  First off, she’s sitting at the kitchen table with her rocket knockers pointing to the sky and she is totally not listening to Bob and Lizzie.  Ugh.  She’s the God-damn worst and, most likely, a slut-pig.  Like, I’m really mad at her, although her rocket knockers totally save the day.  When Bob blurts out, “Drink your tea and eat your biscuit, Mayfee” I literally jumped up from my couch with my arms in a traditional victory position and I found myself shouting “Yes!” like I just won a Troll Doll at my local church Bingo tournament.  I’m now incorporating this sentence into my every day life.  I may update it, however, with things like, “Cut my steak and pour my beer, Mayfee!”  Emphasis, is on the “Mayfee.”  But you knew that.  Lizzie ends her conversation by calling Mayfee “naughty” and, you know what, she really is.  You also know that “naughty” is 100% their “safe word” when get dirty in the boudoir.  Slap my ass, Mayfee, you naughty slut!

At the end of the day, these people are totally normal.  I used to treat my Garbage Pail Kids collection the same way.  But that’s another story for another time.  Wanna talk about Mayfee (that whore!)?  Then join me on my Facebook page and let’s get creepy!

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