Peace: Slutty Santa Sex Doll – The Holiday Spirit, But… Different

I guess there’s a point in every adult’s December where you’re scrolling through some questionable corner of the internet, half-wrapped in an ugly Christmas sweater, and you see something like the “Peace: Slutty Santa Sex Doll.” Yes. That’s a real thing. Honestly, I thought it was a meme at first—like one of those gag gifts your cousin sends as a joke. Nope. It’s an actual product from Absolute Sex Dolls, with specs detailed enough to make IKEA instructions look vague.

What Even Is This Thing?

Right. You’re picturing it already—a 5'3" (159 cm) blonde bombshell, D-cup breasts (they say “big boobs” but somehow that feels almost too childish for this), long tan legs that look like they belong on some Malibu beach instead of next to your Christmas tree. She’s got the whole package: big butt, hips for days (39.4 inches if you really need to know), and yes—whether you’re into details or just morbidly curious—hole depth measurements are included like it’s part of her resume.

Vaginal? 6.7 inches. Anal? 6.6 inches. Oral? 5.1 inches.

It all sounds so technical that I almost started wondering if there’d be a pop quiz at checkout.

The Steel Skeleton Thing

Here’s where things get… weirdly impressive? Or maybe disturbing—I can’t decide which mood fits better today. Peace comes with a steel skeleton and movable joints, so technically she can pose for holiday selfies or whatever other activities people have in mind (you do you). At nearly 95 lbs (or about 76 lbs if you choose the weight reduction option—which oddly enough is not available on most humans), she isn’t exactly lightweight either.

Moving her around is probably more of a workout than any gym membership I’ve ever kept past January.

Discreet Shipping & The Waiting Game

Let me just say: discreet packaging is one of those promises that makes me laugh out loud every time I see it, especially when we’re talking about absolute sex dolls shaped like slutty Santas delivered to your doorstep in mid-December. They swear up and down—the box is plain and unlabeled—but I still imagine my mailman giving me that knowing side-eye as he lugs this suspiciously coffin-sized box up my steps.

Oh—and don’t bother ordering last minute unless your idea of holiday spirit includes waiting three or four weeks while tracking updates ping-pong between “processing” and “in transit.”

Not Exactly Festive Nostalgia

There was this moment—maybe two years ago—when someone brought an inflatable reindeer to our office party as a joke. Everyone laughed; nobody took it home (thank god). Now picture explaining Peace to anyone who stumbles across her in your apartment after New Year’s Eve festivities wind down.

“Uh…she was on sale?”

Yeah, no amount of tinsel will make that conversation less awkward.

Tangent: Why Are There So Many Details?

This part gets me every time—the sheer amount of measurements listed out for these silicone hybrids is borderline obsessive. Bust circumference here, shoe size there (women's 6-6.5 if you're planning on buying her stilettos?), even under bust width because...reasons? Maybe someone somewhere needs their sex doll anatomically accurate down to the inch or else the fantasy collapses like poorly-made gingerbread houses.

Sometimes I wonder if we’ve gone too far with customization—or not far enough? Hard to tell these days.

Is This What Holiday Cheer Looks Like Now?

Maybe I'm missing something essential about modern traditions—or maybe it's just late and I'm tired of pretending everything has deep meaning during the holidays—but seeing a product called "Slutty Santa Sex Doll" trending alongside peppermint bark recipes does something strange to my brain chemistry.

People want what they want; peace comes in many forms apparently—even five-foot-three blonde ones with D-cups and steel skeletons shipped internationally by Absolute Sex Dolls under cover of plain cardboard anonymity.

Anyway…there are worse ways to spend Christmas alone than assembling furniture from IKEA or unboxing your very own seasonal companion who never complains about Mariah Carey playing again for the tenth time that day.

But hey—I’m not judging (much). Just thinking out loud here.