Corpse,oh corpse. how I love thee. A charming romance of the living and the living/dead. Written by Myke Laarson. Please, send me a response to this story. Tell me how much it touched your heart. I know it touched mine. This is a masterpiece of modern romance. Between a man, and his corpse.... I got a call from a corpse the other day, and let me tell you, it was not a pleasent conversation. First, he starts telling me about corpses rights, which I don't think they should have, I mean, they're dead!!! But obviously corpses do have a problem with someone lubing up and going for it. I don't understand, once your dead, you're body doesn't do anything. You could atleast use it for something good, like erotically exciting someone!! And all you have to do is lay there, dead, and still. No participation needed, how easy is that? After explaining that, he got very loud and obnoxious. I felt as though I had been verbally abused and assaulted, but I had to continue. He then told me he had a hard time eating bran, and because he didn't have control of his bowels(or lack of bowels), all his fecal matter would just go splat on the floor. So repulsive pukes up part of a heart and maybe part of a kidney. This was displeasing to hear considering I didn't want to think of fecal matter anywhere else but in a latrine! I than told him he was a disgusting excuse for a corpse. This did not sit well with the deceased, he got very defensive. Started yelling about hookers digging him up and having sex with him. They would fondle his genitalia and use it to penetrate. The thing that really bothered him is that each time a hooker did this, a pint or two of blood would gush from his mouth! Making quite a mess. Why can't hookers just find a corpse that isn't a neat freak? It was disheartening to hear such a tale of woe. So I apologized for calling him a disgusting excuse for a corpse. He told me he didn't want my sympathy. "I'm dead for christ's sake!!"-the corpse yelled very loudly into the phone. "Well, than I'm sorry you died."-I kept calm. Talking about his death I couldn't help but wonder why, why would someone want to kill him? Was he a twit? A sack of shit? Or just in the wrong place at the wrong time. So I asked: "How did you die?" "I died from an o.d. on embolming fluid."-he said. He found this remarkably funny, I wouldn't know why he would laugh about dying when it could have been easily prevented. And I didn't know why the hell he would drink embolming fluid!! It didn't add up, why? it's like 6+7 equals one.(Actually, if you were going by times,6 am, add 7 hours. Walaa! You are in the hours of 1pm.) Maybe a better example is needed. You have a dog, he's starving, and no matter how much food you put in front of him, he doesn't eat. But you realise that your phallus is stuck in his throat. That works......doesn't it? I told him about my example, he didn't find it particularily funny. That's alright considering he didn't really have any brain activity, or a brain whatsoever. Come to think of it, how can he speak to me if he has passed on, and has no brain? "How can you talk to me if you are dead and have no brain?"-I asked. "I don't know, I ate a lot of healthy food. But I spent most of my teenage years either locked in my basement, or in the bathroom. My daddy never really appreciated me, that's why I started doing embolming fluid. At first, it was just for fun. You know, on weekends. But than it gradually stepped up to every other day, than every day. The only thing that changed after that is the amounts. One day, I took too much. My skin got all itchy. So I decided, I was going to get a woman pregnant and abort the child!! After all, it was my lifetime dream, killing a fetus. Or a potential human being as some would say." "Crazy life's ambition. Who was the luck person who got to have intercourse with a half dead, rotting from the inside,and dehydrated thing?" I asked inquisitively. "Well, I went to a bar. Didn't have time to drink, so I just gave this fine young lady some ex, she didn't like that. But I brought her back to my place and injected my sperm into her vagina. Since I had long ago became impotent(the embolming fluid), I had to keep my sperm in syringes in my garage freezer. And that was it, she was very sleepy, so I gave her a couple bucks for a cab. She left." The conversation went a lot longer than I had wanted it to. But I had my hands down my pants and I wasn't going to let go!!! I had this story floating around mystically in my head, whirling,and whirling. Never ending spirals of mystery, so fast I wanted to puke!! SO I DID!!! This regurgitation was strong enough to send my bowels shooting through my lungs,then my throat, than my mouth. It flew out, like when a butterfly is released from his/her jar. It was magnificent, nothing like this had happened before. I felt like I had an epiphany. But than I realized this wasn't very special, I had just hocked up a lot of shit. I smoked a cigarette. "Oh corpse, how you vanish me into a land of uncharted territory! How I love thee to the extent of me crying. I would die for you, and you could come back to life, for me! Only you can truly make the torture stop! Only your blood gushing from your long broken off jaw, and decapitated head could truly show me what love was. Oh how I touch thyself, in such a manner that God will put pity on me. I will grab your pelvis, and rub the bone. I feel all your bones, I can see them. Barely any skin left on your modest body. It's kind of clinged to mine. Truly, I know it's disgusting, but I just don't care! I will wallow in death, and love the scent. The scent of the once living, the once who was walking down the road of life, the one who has captured me." "I kind of have that affect on people."-he said arrogantly. I had to say goodbye to my beautiful casket lover. For I will never do it again, because I hated hocking up shit. But atleast it was for love's first taste. My bowels are clean now, my mouth still has a residue. But that will mend, and heal. My mind will be forever tortured for how I had let him go. I will miss having bone sex with such a brilliant mind, such a sensual creation. I had one more burning question to ask: "What happened with the abortion." -a tear rolled down my eye. "Ahh, we did it ourselves. I just shuved a knife right up her vagina and started poking and prodding. After about ten minutes the baby started coming out in very tiny pieces. I was very pleased with how it turned out. My wife is not, for she is dead."