Woman Has Sexual Relationship with Rollercoaster, Rollercoaster Remains Silent on Affair

Being a young male on these here internets, I can safely say that there is pretty much no sexual act that creeps me out anymore. I have become desensitized to the sexual enterprises of the criminally insane folks on the internet.

What’s that? You just pooped on someone’s genitals?

Seen it.

You just banged while hanging off of meat hooks?

Blah.

The only thing that can get you off is if your partner recites the Magna Carta backwards while punctuating the end of each sentence, not with a period, but with the honk of a clown horn?

Interesting, but still not shocking.

But every now and again, I come across a sexual fixation that makes my feelings travel well beyond the realm of “Creeped out” and straight in to the perplexed and bewildered zone where things make very little sense, and my view on the human condition drops a few experience points. Sometimes I’m not so much bothered by someone’s sexual practices, as much as I am just let down. Let down like a father catching his son masturbating to the voluptuous curves of a chair. And, really, this story is very much along the same lines…

There’s this Pennsylvanian woman named Amy Wolfe. Amy diddles herself to pictures of a rollercoaster. No, not “rollercoasters.” A rollercoaster. The 1001 Nachts rollercoaster in the Knoebles Amusement Park in Elysburg, PA, to be exact. Of course, this is all a part of the fact that she “suffers” from a “condition” that makes people want to fuck random objects. For as much as I love me some science, I’m pretty sure the world of science is making up conditions and ailments just to excuse humanities’ undying passion for wanting to procreate with non-humans, namely, anybody in the world of science.

According to the article, Ms. Wolfe rides the coaster over 300 times a year, no doubt leaving moistened seats and costumed mascots with protruding fluffy stiffies in her wake.

You poop on someone’s junk, I shrug.

You dance your fingers in and around your junk to the sight of a rollercoaster, I facepalm.

To Hell with Amy, what does that say about me?