From Savage Love, a letter in praise of stiff plastic lovers:

“Being with a mannequin is better than being with another person. (I like to think of myself as half of a mannequpple.) They put out and they do whatever you want.”

Whatever you want? I guess that’s true, if “whatever you want” is limited to having a lover who is lifeless and cold and just lays there doing nothing at all. [Unhappily married men may wish to substitute a crass joke about their wives for the text currently within these brackets.]

There’s also detailed advice on how to steal (yes, steal) the other half of your mannequpple.