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(41 People Likes) Are there any realistic sex dolls on the market that look just like famous porn stars? If so, how do porn stars feel about it? Are realistic sex dolls an alternative to prostitutes if a man wants sex but worries about STDs?
lly look similar. There are some that are modeled not only after various porn stars physical features, but their genitals are also molded to make it look and feel the same (although of course it does not), so to be as close as possible to looking like them. If you mean realistic as in human-like, no. We are a ways away from making sex dolls that are close enough to human like to actually pass as human. We can get a reasonable facsimile, if you’re willing to pay for it, but it still falls into the uncanny valley[1] and we’re a ways out from changing that.
If so, how do porn stars feel about it?
Porn stars profit off if it. They basically license their likeness and then every time someone buys a sex doll that is based on them and/or their genitals, they get paid. How they each individually feel about that, you would have to ask them, since porn stars are human and each have individual, human feelings about things, but in general they probably are fans, since it makes them more money.
Are realistic sex dolls an alternative to prostitutes if a man wants sex but worries about STDs?
This question or a version of this gets asks on Quora at least once a week. No, sex dolls are not sex. They are masturbation aids. If a man (or woman) wants sex, they will find a sex doll a poor substitute because a sex doll is not a human and sex is not sex unless it is with another human. Some people might be happy with masturbation with sex dolls and other aids, but in general, people enjoy sex because of the connection with another person and a sex doll cannot do that. Sex dolls, no matter how realistic they are, are not people and using them is masturbation, not sex. If we ever get to the point where sex dolls gain sentience, it could be sex, but then it would be no different than having sex with a human (i.e. you’d need consent).
STIs are actually relatively easy to avoid if you take the steps to mitigate risk. Open and honest conversations with sexual partners, using barriers, getting tested frequently and only having sex with people who also frequently get tested, and other such safer sex practices are far better ways to avoid STIs, but yes, sex dolls would work too if you don’t mind not having sex at all. There’s
(59 People Likes) If technology on artificial intelligent sex dolls continues, how life-like will they be in 50 years?
nse, but should be able to simulate a personality pretty well.
What is more interesting to speculate about is what may happen to the body. Right now, sex dolls are inert lumps of silicone or plastic. There might be a skeleton, and there is some work being done to motorise them to some degree, possibly eye mov Cheap Sex Dolls ments/tracking and even expressions.
However, to have a satisfactory “real” sex robot, it needs to be able to move convincingly and not like an excavator, preferable stand and walk, and most importantly, have tactile feedback so that it won’t accidentally crush you or rip off sensitive parts of your anatomy.
In addition, some kind of improved and more durable as well as flesh feeling texture would be good. Constantly feeling metal corners and vibrating gears would be a turn off 145 cm love doll wholesale prices Synthetic muscle of some kind would be good.
Fifty years is a good long time in terms of modern technology, so it is not as improbable as it sounds right now. It might even be possible to make the robot have a human fee
(68 People Likes) Consider a Warming Routine
ybe you see them in some sexy lingerie or a tight swimsuit. Now you can make your fantasy a reality. Start by buying 145 cm love doll wholesale prices our new doll some outfits. Your doll will look just like your fantas
(55 People Likes) What movie is so disturbing, you would never watch it again?
I suppose that was my own form of rebellion at the time. Among them were KIDS, Gummo, Requiem for a Dream, Pink Flamingoes, and more. While they were all hard to watch in one way or another, I actually ended up liking the majority of these movies, and I wouldn’t say most were disturbing enough for me to never want to watch them again. Most of them at least, not all. I have a handful that I would rather not rewatch even after all these years.
Stoic (2009) was one that was very hard for me to keep looking at during certain scenes. To not get so into detail, it took place in a prison cell holding four inmates, then three of them gang up on one and essentially torture him to death. I felt sick at how realistically gruesome and grim it was. When it was over, I was able to appreciate the better aspects of the film, such as the acting that was uncomfortably convincing, and how they utilised the minimal budget in their favour. Despite that though, I was shaken by it for a while after watching it. It wasn’t entertainingly outrageous like Pink Flamingoes (although that movie is on thin ice for me). It didn’t have the masterful direction of a movie like A Clockwork Orange. I think it was executed well enough for what it is, but I didn’t have much reason or desire to rewatch it. I don’t know if it would be as disturbing to me nowadays as it was then (I’m 17 now), but from what I remember, I would rather not return to it and find out.
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Mala Noche (1988) is a film that I’m not entirely sure was meant to be disturbing, but it did creep me out nonetheless. It wasn’t gorey or violent, it was offputting in the sense that it was told from the perspective of a grown man sexually pursuing two teenage boys, and he sees nothing wrong with this at all. He even addresses the fact that they were probably only around 16, yet he gleefully describes how much he wants to have sex with them all through out the movie. That’s pretty much the whole plot. They were both clearly uncomfortable with his flirtation, and when he does have sex with one it was only in exchange for money. It didn’t help that it was cheaply made. There are some parts that are laughable, boring, and/or just cringeworthy. I wouldn’t mind never seeing it again.
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Now The Human Centipede movies…. I don’t think I watched all of them, but the ones I managed to sit through were not entertaining enough for me to justify how gross they were. I do enjoy a disturbing movie for the sake of being disturbing every once in a while (if I can take away something good from it) these just didn’t do it for me. Maybe a person’s mouth being sewn to another person’s anus was too much? Because there came a point where I questioned why I was even watching. Again, maybe this wouldn’t be as bad now as it was when I was 12–13, but I’m not eager to find out. If I can say an
(89 People Likes) What does it feel like to be poor?
marriage, but didn’t work while I was at home because they had eight children (I was the eldest). My Grandfather had made some money during the Great Depression, so he gave my father a farm, but encumbered it so my father could not mortgage it. There was always plenty of food because we raised it ourselves. We lived in an old, drafty house that required six cords of wood (that we cut and cured ourselves) to heat two rooms for the winter. The bedrooms were not heated. There was the boy’s bedroom, the girl’s bedroom and my parent’s bedroom. We had an outhouse. We heated the eat-in kitchen all day and the living room in the evenings. Summers were sweltering and you were better off outside. We had about two dozen chickens for the eggs and for fried chicken every Sunday. We would buy a calf every spring, let it eat grass all year and butcher it in the fall. We kept pigs in pens and had to scrounge food for them. We would butcher two, make sausage, and salt cure the bacon and hams. We sold several pigs every fall. We had two milk cows that gave us plenty of milk, butter, cottage cheese and buttermilk. We ‘freshened’ them when they dried up, and sold their calves when they were weaned. Mother canned about 400 quarts of vegetables every year. We ate fresh in season, and home-canned the rest of the year. A usual week day was, get up at 4AM, milk, feed and water my cow, feed and water the pigs, eat breakfast and work in the garden until the school bus came at 7 AM. Do my homework on the 45 minute bus ride then go to classes. More homework on the bus ride home, then change clothes and do farm-work until dark. After it got too dark to work, milk, feed and water the animals, then eat supper. Wash off on the back porch, weather permitting, or in the living room in the winter. A bath consisted of standing in a wash tub and scrubbing with a quart of warm soapy water and rinsing off with a gallon of cold water. Then to bed. On Saturdays, it was dawn-to-dark farm work. On Sundays, just the chores.
The farm was a half mile from the nearest neighbor, three miles to the paved road and 27 miles to Columbus, the ‘big city’.
We did not have a car or truck, but we did have an antique (pre-WW II) tractor and a mule we borrowed from Grand-dad. Dad drove the tractor and I plowed with the mule. Ada was 12 years old and weary. Sometimes she was simply unable to pull the plow. She taught me patience and how to work around problems. We had electricity, but only for lights and the refrigerator. Each room had a light on a pull chain, very limited wall outlets, maybe one per room. We had a radio until one of my brothers broke it. (This was before television). Our entertainment was board games we made ourselves and Compton’s Pictured Encyclopedia, which I read from Aardvark to Zygote before I was 12. I read the Bible aloud to my Grandfather, usually on Sunday, and he paid me $5 every time I finished it. I read the Encyclopedia Britannica at study hall, and finished it in the eleventh grade.
Our cash crops were cotton, corn, and peanuts. We also grew about 10 acres of various vegetables and when we had a surplus, we sold them also. Until the Eisenhower administration, we grew several acres of wheat and gave the miller half to make flour. The Federal government started the ‘land bank’ where they paid farmers to not farm, and an ‘allotment’ was required to grow certain crops. Wheat was one of them. When we continued ‘business as usual’ the Feds threatened my Dad with hefty fines and jail time unless he destroyed the wheat field. We had to hurriedly replant (I missed several weeks of school) with millet, sesame and sorghum to get the grains we needed to feed the chickens and animals. We ate crappy bread (no wheat flour) for about three months until we could readjust our budget. There was not much cash money to buy things. We bought coffee, tea, spices, salt, pepper, extracts, sugar, baking chocolate, aspirin, cod liver oil and not much else. The sugar was for canning – we grew sorghum for syrup if you wanted something sweet.
Clothing was the major expense. We went barefoot at home and only wore shoes to school. My work clothes were last year’s school clothes. My mother sewed with a treadle sewing machine, so our shirts and dresses were home-made. I seem to remember their budget was $5,000 per year.
The allotments cut back on the amount of cotton and peanuts we were allowed to grow to the point we could no longer make ends meet. We tried several different approaches to truck farming with no success.
My parents argued and divorced. My mother retained the farm. Dad lived on his brother’s charity.
My brother and I tried farming for a year, but our expenses exceeded our income. We sold most of the animals and all of the farm equipment to pay off the deficits. Mother and the younger kids were left with some chickens and a cow.
I was told I would not graduate from high school because I h Best Sex Dolls d not earned enough credits my Senior year.
In 1957, I ran away from home and joined the Air Force.
I was told I couldn’t join the military without a High School diploma, but I did. Only the Air Force recruiter would talk to me. He sent me to MEPS for the ASVAB and physical. I scored 93 percentile on the AFQT and maxed out the line scores, so he got me a waiver. I took the test and got a GED at the first opportunity. I went to tech school for HF radio technician and had a high security clearance, I think because I had been raised so isolated.
I tried to declare my mother as a dependent, but since she ‘owned’ the farm, I could not. The farm kept her from being eligible for welfare or other Government assistance.
So, I set up a joint checking account with my mother, had my military paycheck deposited into it, and told her it was an allotment. ($141 per month! Minimum wage was $1/ hour, I think.) The Air Force was like heaven to me. I got to sleep in until 7 AM, the PT was not difficult, the training was not challenging and I had loads of free time in the evening. I also had little money. All of my contemporaries had money for beer and cigarettes and went on dates. I could not. On the other hand, I had all of the food I wanted to eat, unlimited hot water for showers, flush toilets, clothes and shoes that fit, and more books than I could read at the base library. Every Saturday the USO sponsored a dance at the Airman’s Club, so I got to dance with girls there. Every Sunday, I could go to church at the Base Chapel. I worked odd jobs off-base for spending money, repairing CB radios, washing dishes at a bar and grill, etc. I made about $50 per month part-time, and most of that went to keep my uniforms up to snuff, and haircuts. I did not have many friends because I could not afford to ‘party’ with them. My last year was remote site duty in Alaska and was unable to do any off-duty work while I was there, so I had no income. I obtained my Amateur Radio license there, and ran phone patch calls to home for everybody. I was number one on the promotion list for the Alaskan Air Command, but no stripes came down. I did not have enough rank for retention, so I could not re-enlist in 1961. I did not date in High school or the Air Force, and I resented it at the time. My Grandfather died while I was in the AF, mother got clear title to the farm, sold it, and moved to Atlanta to be near my sister. I no longer had to support my family and started to make some real money. Growing up, everyone considered us ‘poor’. But I feel we only lacked transportation and stylish clothes. The last song I heard before th
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