Heating the Dead
“Cemetery administrators had to call the police after one woman refused to leave a dead body, claiming she wanted to bring him back to life by lying on him and heating him up… ‘We led her to the body in a cold room. [Seeing the deceased before the funeral] is a common request by families,’ Burianov· said. The administrator eventually realised that the woman had been in the cooler room for quite a long time and thus went to see her. What she saw shocked her. ‘She was heating him up with her own body, completely undisturbed by the fact that there were two more dead bodies in the room. ‘For God’s sake, what are you doing,’ I shouted at her,’ Burianov· said. The woman then allegedly said that she was just bringing the dead man back to life. Because the woman refused to leave the cemetery premises, the administrator then called the police to remove her from the area.” — Slovak Specatator (Slovakia)
The woman “heating up” the corpse of this sixty-two-year-old man claimed to be his niece — which is no more likely than that she was bringing him back to life by warming up his body with her own. No matter how backward a country you live in, you can’t seriously believe you’re going to resuscitate anybody with a little body heat. No doubt this was a flimsy excuse for what she really wanted to do, which was to heat up her own body by rubbing it on the nice cool dead one.
On the other hand, from the vantage point of the deceased, it’s nice to think of a woman coming to rub on you right before you’re to be buried in the ground. It may not revive you, and it certainly won’t give you any sexual pleasure, but the prospect of it is oddly reassuring. It makes you feel you’ll still be cared for, even after you’re gone. It makes you feel you’re still attractive, even after you’ve begun to decay… Though from the vantage point of the living it may be necrophilia, from the prospect of anyone going to die necrophilia offers companionship in an hour of loneliness and isolation. And who can’t appreciate that, since sooner or later we all die?
i never got along with the girls at my school filling me up with all their morals and their rules they’d pile all their problems on my head i’d rather go out and fuck the dead ’cause i can do what i want and they won’t complain i wanna fuck i wanna fuck the dead middle of the night so silently i creep on over to the mortuary lift up the casket and fiddle with the dead their cold blue flesh makes me turn red ’cause i can do what i want and they won’t complain i wanna fuck i wanna fuck the dead and i don’t even care how she died… but i like it better if she smells of formaldehyde! never on the rag or say leave me alone they don’t scream and they don’t moan don’t even cry if i shoot in their hair lying on the table she smiles and she stares
:) rotting flesh is sexy
I need to draft some sort of legal certificate which allows any necrophiliac woman who wants a go, the rights to do so. Something like that SHOULD bypass the law.
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