J.G. Ballard has a great novel about auto erotica called Crash. Written in the late 60s, I think.

This novel includes one of my favorite lines ever:

"What does your husband do?"
"He's an engineer. For a food company."

You know, give me a 1970 Pontiac Firebird Formula 400 and a bottle of Wet Platnium and I can't promise I won't slip it in.

Is this Kluver-Bucy Syndrome?!?!?!?!?! This is so exciting!

Damage to the front of the temporal lobe and the amygdala just below it can result in the strange condition called Kluver-Bucy Syndrome. Classically, the person will try to put anything to hand into their mouths and typically attempt to have sexual intercourse with it. A classic example is of the unfortunate chap arrested whilst attempting to have sex with the pavement. Effectively, it is the "what" pathway that is damaged with regards to foodstuff and sexual partner. As Ramachandran puts it, "they are not hypersexual, just indiscriminate. They [monkeys with surgically modified temporal lobes] have great difficulty in knowing what prey is, what a mate is, what food is and in general what the significance of any object might be."

More on Kluver-Bucy Syndrome here.

Yeah. Work at an Alzhiemers joint and you see the same damn thing. Scientists analyze every minute pshychological aspect, which is good I guess, that the scary thing is that we all have what you call Deviant / Devilish and amoral behavior sexually pshychologically speaking in our very souls. We just don't give into the foce. Noones pure of thought, even quakers in the missionary position.
Its just that we all prefer not to release it because it is ugly to us.
Yin and Yang forces pull at us everyday, and a wise man does not yield to the words of his sexual whims what ever they may be. Sometimes its just best a person be monk like instead of monkey. Because monkeys allways scare all the girls away.
my point. All I'm sayin is "down monkey, bad monkey, get off that car monkey, and stop monkeying around. Your human afterall. Don't forget it.

Dance, monkeys, DANCE!

You know, SNL came up with a little solution (or was it the origin of the problem?) a few years back. It's called the Mercury Mistress, the "first car you can actually have sex with."

Nice headline.

God, I can't wait for the movie to come out.

I laughed out loud at the reference to "auto-eroticism."