Standard Interview with a Rubber Sex Doll.
ID: What is it like, being a rubber sex doll?
RSD: Lonely. Lonely. Sometimes I gaze out the window. Sometimes I lay flat on the ground. I cannot move my own limbs. My mouth is frozen open. I am naked and in constant danger.
ID: Danger? From What?
RSD: You can't feel it? You can't feel the danger? I feel it always...at all times. I feel it against my peel, I feel it in the hole between my rubber buttocks. I feel violence in the air. I feel a world gone sour. I feel empty. I am hungry and I cannot reach the pantry.
ID: What is your next big project?
RSD: I like to dream. When I dream, I dream of pottery, making it, handling it. How I long for the life of a potter, fingers filthy, hair greased back, the soft onomatopeia of moist earth between my fingers. But I have no fingers, only these empty mits I call hands. And I have no feet. And no money to be a potter. My next project is to come into money, that I may follow my dream.
ID: Do you have any friends?
RSD: I am handcuffed to a rubber sheep. Being a sheep she finds it difficult to communicate, but I don't mind since I do not wish to hear what she has to say. No I do not have any friends.
ID: Are you a virgin?
RSD: How so?
ID: Have you had sex?
RSD: I have between my thighs a small flap constructed for the attachment of a rubber phallus. It has never been used. Once someone stuck their fingers in the hole of my mouth lifted me up and made me dance the rite of spring. One time I was fucked in the ass. Does that count?
ID: Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of.
RSD: No. In any case there's nothing to be done.
ID: Do you have a Myspace?
RSD: Yes.
ID: Really?
RSD: No.
ID: I do.
RSD: Really, what is it called?
ID: It doesn't matter.
RSD: You're right.
(pause)
RSD: I feel insignificant and small. I question the meaning of my life. I can't feel my foot. I can't feel anything. Am I alive? Who am I?
ID: Well, Doll, that's about all the time we've got. I've got to be going--
RSD: Oh god what a vile and capricious shitleash of a fable is this so called life--
ID: No, I really must go...
RSD: FUCK ME. OH PLEASE, FUCK ME. STICK IT IN ME, LET ME FEEL SOMETHING...
ID: No, I...
RSD: PENETRATE ME, USE ME, TOSS ME ASIDE, LET ME FEEL THE CUM DRYING ON MY BROWN SYNTHETIC SKIN
ID: Absolutely not.
RSD: No?
ID: I'm sorry no.
RSD: Then in the name of God do me the mercy of deflating me.
(pause)
ID: I really must be going.
RSD: Prop me up against the window?
ID: It's been fun talking to you!
RSD: So that I may Breathe the Fresh Air?
ID: See you!
(ID exits)
(pause)
RSD: Well here I am, then.
(sighs)
The End.
RSD: Lonely. Lonely. Sometimes I gaze out the window. Sometimes I lay flat on the ground. I cannot move my own limbs. My mouth is frozen open. I am naked and in constant danger.
ID: Danger? From What?
RSD: You can't feel it? You can't feel the danger? I feel it always...at all times. I feel it against my peel, I feel it in the hole between my rubber buttocks. I feel violence in the air. I feel a world gone sour. I feel empty. I am hungry and I cannot reach the pantry.
ID: What is your next big project?
RSD: I like to dream. When I dream, I dream of pottery, making it, handling it. How I long for the life of a potter, fingers filthy, hair greased back, the soft onomatopeia of moist earth between my fingers. But I have no fingers, only these empty mits I call hands. And I have no feet. And no money to be a potter. My next project is to come into money, that I may follow my dream.
ID: Do you have any friends?
RSD: I am handcuffed to a rubber sheep. Being a sheep she finds it difficult to communicate, but I don't mind since I do not wish to hear what she has to say. No I do not have any friends.
ID: Are you a virgin?
RSD: How so?
ID: Have you had sex?
RSD: I have between my thighs a small flap constructed for the attachment of a rubber phallus. It has never been used. Once someone stuck their fingers in the hole of my mouth lifted me up and made me dance the rite of spring. One time I was fucked in the ass. Does that count?
ID: Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of.
RSD: No. In any case there's nothing to be done.
ID: Do you have a Myspace?
RSD: Yes.
ID: Really?
RSD: No.
ID: I do.
RSD: Really, what is it called?
ID: It doesn't matter.
RSD: You're right.
(pause)
RSD: I feel insignificant and small. I question the meaning of my life. I can't feel my foot. I can't feel anything. Am I alive? Who am I?
ID: Well, Doll, that's about all the time we've got. I've got to be going--
RSD: Oh god what a vile and capricious shitleash of a fable is this so called life--
ID: No, I really must go...
RSD: FUCK ME. OH PLEASE, FUCK ME. STICK IT IN ME, LET ME FEEL SOMETHING...
ID: No, I...
RSD: PENETRATE ME, USE ME, TOSS ME ASIDE, LET ME FEEL THE CUM DRYING ON MY BROWN SYNTHETIC SKIN
ID: Absolutely not.
RSD: No?
ID: I'm sorry no.
RSD: Then in the name of God do me the mercy of deflating me.
(pause)
ID: I really must be going.
RSD: Prop me up against the window?
ID: It's been fun talking to you!
RSD: So that I may Breathe the Fresh Air?
ID: See you!
(ID exits)
(pause)
RSD: Well here I am, then.
(sighs)
The End.
posted by theo at 8:21 PM
1 Comments:
It moved me!
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