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Ceci n'est pas une idée.
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Speleological Corridor of Fat requires for
its creation a specially constructed
corridor, and a few hundred volunteer
individuals, the morbidly obese being
particularly welcome. The corridor itself
meanders, narrows in places, and also
variety of curves complemented by a
set of gentle
It's main feature are a series of gaps and
slots of different sizes and orientations
running along its walls, against which the
willing overweight volunteers press
through their fleshy parts of choice. This
results in the corridor being constricted
the point where negotiating its narrow
parts involves squeezing through a
continuous tunnel of bulging flesh.
Not Art, Retail: Wall of Breasts
Lame, but overreported, because it has breasts and stereotyping in it. [jutta, Aug 15 2008]
||With the distinctive smell of carbide lamps?
||Tits - a narrow potholing thing that's made from thousands of breasts. Anyone venturing into the live mammary tunnel might find the sensation of being enveloped by all those jumblies - quite humbling, and quickly regress into a helpless gurgling droolboy.
||That's been done [tom]. A big room with
boobs lining the walls, a bit like the
padded prison cells for the dangerously
insane. Only with nipples.
||Would find a pic but I'm at work. As for
idea: It's horrible.
||//A big room with boobs lining the walls...for the dangerously insane// That's the House of Lords, isn't it?
||Yes. This is excellent. Aside from the key issue of weeding likely gropers from the queue of prospective spelunkers, I can see nothing wrong with this. The idea as posed affords the average, non-gropey human the opportunity to be as food matter, passing down a warm, fleshy corridor, towards the vageuly sphincterish exithole, which is an experience of itself. The added bonus is that each spelunker is, at the same time, rubbing against the exterior, rather than interior, surfaces of chubby types, coming closer than would ordinarily be welcome while simultaneously inverting the usual food-digestive system paradigm. The spelunker, as he forces his way down this wobbly tract, is himself forced to consider not only what is passing through him, but what has already passed through those he is passing through. By simple forward motion, he gains a closer understanding of what it is like to be
(c) shit; and
(d) all of the above
all for the price of a fun fair go-round.
||You'd probably get a flashback of being born.