What I have to say about Kanani

Seriously people, WTF do you want me to say?

Look, she's beautiful, she's one small step on the path to total face mold domination, and she's got a collection that channels the adopted love child of Kailey and Barbie.

But what I really want to know is this: when are we going to get to see her birth certificate?

Because until we do, she's not officially an American Girl.

Macy's sucks.

Last week Mariah Carey announced she was having twins. I presume this means she'll count for two Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloons, as she'll be that inflated.

I haven't thought about Mimi in ages, actually. She's certainly not significant enough to make my List, nor is she one of my Sworn Enemies. But thinking about her reminds me of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I missed celebrating Thanksgiving in real time because we were in Costa Rica and couldn't find any canned cranberry jelly.

What was I doing in Costa Rica? Never you mind.

Anyway, thinking of Mariah Carey made me feel like watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, so I TiVod it. Not because I actually LIKE watching parades, mind you. They are boringly predictable: floats and/or balloons, celebrities, occasionally some nice old cars, marching bands and more marching bands, and if you're really lucky some horses in diapers. And I'm here to tell you people, the Macy's parade was both amusing and awful. Let me break it down for you, blow-by-blow, AJ-style:

First off we need to assume that the real thing is way better in person, sans incessant interruptions from commercial breaks. Even better if sans marching bands. Does anyone really like watching marching bands? I mean, really? I see that One Mod raising her hand; figures. Look, no one whose kid isn't in the band is likely to plunk down $100 to get front row seats to a marching band performance. Marching bands are even more torturous to watch on TV than in real life because televised sound quality sucks so hard that the bands seem like they are all playing the same song. People don't realize (likely because they don't have me around to remind them) that in this age of digital remixing, the only reason marching bands have survived this long is because they have been conflated with football. Voilà! Football = built-in marching band survival plan!

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, the parade. Well, it has cheerleaders...or maybe dancers. I've never been sure of the difference, since as far as I can tell they serve basically the same function and also, cheerleaders dance. Dance teams do perhaps less cheering. Not all dancers are cheerleaders, though, so it's confounding. What's funny about the Macy's dancers/cheerleaders is that because there are so damn many of them, what with the way the sound is carrying, those at one end are out of sync with those at the other end. Ha ha, Macy's dance/cheerleader Fail. But Fail sighting notwithstanding, it's all way too peppy for me. And the costumes look like something envisioned by Mattel.

Following cheerleader/dancer Fail comes an interview with Random Actor, who while reasonably attractive and using passable grammar, has nothing profound to say. I think he was promoting something but I don't know what it was since Jiggy chose that moment to let loose a cannon volley on the roof. Random Actor was followed by show tunes on a float. Show tunes performed during shows are bad enough, but on a float? Fail. I am reminded to ask if this "Memphis" is a Broadway musical about segregation? That's got guaranteed success written all over it, because audiences have been clamoring for segregation showstopper tunes for ages.

Also, I want to know why the women are in costume but half the men are wearing just khakis and polo shirts. That's a costume? Hell, that's what that One Mod wears to work every day. (Jiggy has been spying on her via webcam for blackmail material, if you're wondering how I know that. At least that's why he's supposed to be spying on her...).

Moving onto random songs that are, well, passable. I mean, my ears aren't bleeding or anything in response. Sonali's ears would be bleeding, though, since they are blobby. (Don't tell her I mentioned that; she's still so sensitive about the Blobby Ear Haters).

Commercials. Too many. And that commercial with the baby on the interstate ranks up there on my list of Most Annoying Commercials, Ever. The song is irritating and the baby isn't All That. Every baby looks like Winston Churchill anyway.

According to the Macy's Parade, there's now a Green Day musical. WTF. This trend of stringing together musicals from band repertoires has to stop. It's lazy and shiftless. Don't even talk to me about Mamma Mia. Don't especially talk to me about Mamma Mia, the movie.

What this parade doesn't need is a giant inflatable Spongebob. And giant inflatable Smurfs. And yet somehow, both of these balloons managed to sneak into the lineup, and there's nary a sign of Mariah Carey.

Al Roker is not as funny as he thinks he is. He ought to stop getting in the way of marching bands. As boring as marching bands are, I concede that it is probably difficult to carry a full set of drums whilst marching. I keep hoping a marching band will stampede and smash puny Al Roker. He'd not have needed gastric bypass if he'd simply gotten in the way of a marching band. Stampede = instant weight loss.

This parade is not a total waste: it features a fake!Johnny Cash. I'll take what I can get until my clone project succeeds. This guy can at least lip sync decently, so if nothing else he gets bonus points for that.

Fake!Johnny aside, I'm getting bored. How many aerial shots of New York City do we need? You can only look at the balloons for so long anyway. At least I can. For so long. It's been too long already. And there needs to be a law about how many random product placement interviews with random stars that individuals can be exposed to per parade. I'm going to talk with Cousin Antonin about this.

Seeing as how it's New York, yeah, The Rockettes are here. While Jiggy admires their flexibility, I find them boring. Also, I happen to know that most of them can't spell their way out of a paper bag. I keep wondering when the nude edition is going to debut. Nude Rockette shows would be a must-see tourist attraction, seeing as how Times Square is so boring now. And plus Radio City Music Hall is only a hop-skip-and-a-jump from American Girl Place. AG could even get in on the action and sell store exclusive Rockette G-strings and pasties for its My AG line.

Alton Brown is dressed like a pilgrim and riding a turkey. I appreciate that on several levels. I would totally hire him to cook for me on George Foreman's days off. However, this float, it is ruined by a Clay Aiken clone. Playing a yellow piano. Bopping along to his own "music." Stop that, Clay Aiken clone. Go stand over there with Al Roker.

I am coming to the conclusion that the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade is an exercise in total absurdity, with or without Mariah Carey. I think I just saw bobblehead pilgrims. That's right. Pilgrim bobbleheads. Oh oh oh, but here's something good: what appears to be Lamie's float, complete with giant, scary creepy and (probably) inappropriate woodland animals. Sandra Lee is on it, and she either doesn't know what to do or else she's bored with waving. There are also lots of peace signs. Why? Oh wait, Arlo Guthrie, that's why. I thought he was dead. He looks like he should be. And also, he looks like Santa Fe threw up on him. There is an unidentified random chick standing with him and singing; why is this? Did the chattering heads tell us and I wasn't paying attention because I don't give a damn? Ha, maybe it's Alice.

Speaking of people who can't sing, who the hell told Jimmy Fallon he could sing, and who gave him those douchebag glasses? Oh wait, Jiggy says he did. Way to go, Jiggy.

In terms of parade transportation, I have to say that Ronald McDonald's shoe car is ugly. The Weinermobile, however, is perfection on wheels. Also, Ronald's balloon is creepy. Clowns are scary enough without making them gigantic, okay? How many kids do you think went to this parade or watched it on television, and are still traumatized even now? Clown PTSD is real. It's in the DSM-IV. Fuck clowns. Clowns are my sworn enemies.

Mannheim Steamroller is fantabulous. Period. No need to discuss this. It is an established fact.

There is an Uncle Sam balloon and I can only conclude that the government can't afford a balloon that looks like it was made by someone out of elementary school.

The parade features a Pizza Spinning Team. I like this. I like this so much that I am going to have the Entourage train as a Pizza Spinning Team for Naked Wednesdays. Parades need more random shit like this to make them tolerable and interesting. Enough with endless repetition of float - Broadway musical performance - celebrity lip syncing - marching band - float -- Broadway musical performance - celebrity lip syncing - marching band - float --

There is, however, one good float: a pirate ship on wheels. FML, I need one. We need new wheels anyway since we finally sold the camper. My Macy's choices are either pirate float or Weinermobile, because the fugliness of the Jimmy Dean float defies my descriptive powers to convey. It's an orgasm of neon airbrushing mounted by people dressed up as breakfast foods. Ha ha, sausage man. There is also a Princess Academy thing that looks like Mattel's wet dream. So far as I can tell that float was built entirely of ego.

Parade features Big Time Rush, that band from the self-titled Nick show. The band is made up of four brothers who are exactly the same age. Three of them are pasty white dudes. One is named Carlos. Either they're all adopted or something was going down in that family. But hey, I don't judge. Possibly the parents genetically engineered their own boy band to be super pretty, good at boy band dances, and vocally competent. Perhaps I ought to talk to their parents to get some genetic engineering tips for the Warren Cash project. I notice one of the Big Time Rushes isn't allowed to have a solo, so maybe that genetic engineering stuff wasn't entirely a success. Tricky stuff, DNA.

There is a Stomp knockoff group that is kind of cool. Not as awesome as the Pizza Spinning Team, though. OTOH, Pizza Spinning Team doing Stomp impression, that would revolutionize the world as we know it.

Now here we have Gladys Knight. Gladys is looking lovely these days despite her advanced age. Why can't Gladys Knight be on every float? I'll add her to my "to clone" list. I like writing the word "Gladys." If Jiggy and I had a vinyl-human-hybrid-love-child we'd name him Gladys, I think.

OMGF, it's Kanye West! Doesn't he have better things to do than show up at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade? This is so sad. Most of the celebrities at this shindig are up-and-comers, teen starlets, or aging stars looking to jump-start some royalties on their old portfolios. And then there's Kanye. Whose minders apparently told him that appearing at the Macy's parade would rehabilitate his image.

Ha ha, having someone standing at the top of the "Big Apple" to be the stem is hilariously pathetic.

"As her students and instructors perform a traditional Bollywood dance...." What exactly is "a traditional Bollywood dance?" Which is to say, here the NBC commentators are talking out their asses once again.

I have to end this soon because I can't stand it any more so let me put it bluntly: a plethora of dancing, singing people in penguin costumes is a sign of the coming Apocalypse. Happy Feet is creepy in real life and life-sized penguins should not sing and dance. Not ever. That is all.

I'm fast forwarding past Victoria "Jailbait" Justice (Jiggy wants to know, is she eighteen yet?) and lots of lip syncing and other fail. And....there's Santa. OMFG, that's an hour of my life gone and I can turn this shit off now. What was I thinking?

To sum up: Macy's and its parade suck. Mariah's gestational debut appearance would have improved this debacle. Don't take that statement to assume that I am pro-Mariah. I am, however, anti-marching band, anti-lip syncing, anti-autotuning, anti-Kanye and anti-show tunes. Also, anti-clown. And I do appreciate the irony of Macy's declaring the start of the holiday season on Thanksgiving, given that its actual retail establishments declared the start sometime in late October.

Regardless of when it started, soon it will be over. And not a moment too soon.

Random Animal Public Service Announcement

Angry Toshi wants me to tell you lot that today is National Monkey Day, and asks that you celebrate by decapitating your Fios.

He demonstrates proper technique:



Be sure to wear your Santa hats whilst beheading, to keep things festive.

AG, ever the home of random GOTY animals, be prepared to receive a large crate of Fio heads later this week.

Hey, what, I hear tell that new lame-ass American Girl Kanani will be getting a pet Hawaiian hoary bat. I truly hope this comes to pass because the phrase 'hoary bat' is eminently mock-worthy, am I right? Yeah, I'm right.

Source of AG Delivery Problems Revealed

People, you keep complaining about how it's been taking AG too long to fulfill your orders. Yeah, well, cry me a river because apparently you'd rather complain than get to the bottom of the delays.

Leave it to AJ, you say. Yeah, well, here's what I found out: according to this website illustration, AG has outsourced its delivery contracts to Rat Post:


That's right, rats are in charge of delivering your AG goods. And if you think the vermin are going to honestly apprise you as to when to expect your AG swag? Yeah, think again. They're trying on your doll clothes and pawing through your books. Also, note that the rat has a navel. Good thing, because it would violate the Vermin Union contract to have navel-less rats delivering parcels.

Whatever. I always said AG was run by rat bastards.

Annual Holiday Wish List of Doom

Yeah, I've been working on my holiday wish list. It's taken a while. I had to stop occasionally to do mundane little things like, oh, assist in tracking down that WikiLeaks guy, torture that one mod at the top of my List, mount a defense fund for Willy Nelson's latest weed bust, saute some cheap Cyber Monday llama, and hack into Proboards so the entire server system fails.

What? You multi-task by doing laundry and reading the paper. I multi-task by leaving mayhem and madness in my wake.

Be that as it may, I know you people have been breathlessly awaiting my Annual Holiday Wishlist of Doom so you could complete your holiday shopping. Or begin it, more like, because anything you buy after purchasing my gift will be anti-climactic. (Speaking of which, hey, how about that Cyber Monday on the AG site, eh? Doll collectors over on Playthings staying up late in some kind of group orgy thing, getting themselves all hot and bothered, credit cards in hand striving for that ultimate dollgasm and then....site loads....fizzle. I have no idea what that's like but listen folks, you have to face facts. For 364 days a year AG sells you cheap crap; the one day they're supposed to sell you crap cheap can't possibly live up to the hype).

So yeah, about my Wish List:

1. Inflatable Sumo Wrestler Costumes

I need a lot of these because they have multiple utility. First of all, the Entourage members will each don a costume for their annual New Year's Day Inflatable Sumo Wrestler Smackdown in yet another attempt to curry my favor. What else they do while wearing the suits is their business.

I also need miniature versions for the retired GOTY and archived Historical dolls, so they can have their own Inflatable Sumo Wrestler Smackdown. They get bored down there in the vault and dressing up like sumo wrestlers will keep them out of trouble, or at least give them a REAL reason to cry. What else they do while wearing the suits is their business.

Lastly, I need these costumes made up in various sizes so I can force my sworn enemies to wear them while competing in jello ring sumo tournaments for my amusement.

2. Lee Harvey Oswald's original coffin
This treasure, exhumed in 1981, is being auctioned off right now. And damn, it would be mighty fine addition to my Lee Harvey Oswald collection! I've got quite a stash of Lee memorabilia, including all the instruments played in that kickass final concert in Dallas. You know, this one:



I'm still pissed that I wasn't able to score the mike stand in that picture. Someone sniped me on it in waning seconds of the auction. Still, having the coffin will make up for that loss. And I don't mind the water damage, in case you're worried about that. Auction ends on December 16.

3. NWTF merchandise

Most people think this logo belongs to the National Wild Turkey Federation. I'm here to tell you that it's shorthand for "Now, WTF?" Because we all know that's what everyone says when they see a flock of wild turkeys crossing the Interstate or their living room floor, and you know I speak the truth about this. It happens every day to some of you. I will need several black t-shirts with this logo emblazoned on it for members of my Entourage. And this:



I need a ton of these umbrellas. They'll suffice for expressing my disdain for the universe on rainy days. They will also supplement the weaponry arsenal for the inevitable Rise of the Ginger Army as prophesied in the Book of Nellie at the End of Days.

3. Hard vinyl bobblehead monkey wearing fez



This gift is for Toshi. I don't need to explain why to you, so STFU or I'll stab you with my NWTF umbrella. Everyone is entitled to his or her share of vibrating hard vinyl, monkey-shaped or not. Whatever, I don't judge.

Get him two.

4. Angry purses
I like cats as much as any animal that I don't actually, you know, eat. So either of these Angry Kitty purses will do me fine.





Jiggy would like this one:



What? You're surprised I like Hello Kitty? Judgmental much? Before we sold the camper, we had this decal on all the windows:



Couldn't scrape them off when we sold the camper, so I could use another dozen or so for the Shaved Ice Mobile we'll be getting with Kanani's debut next month.

Speaking of which....

5. Shaved ice machines

So yeah, Kanani is getting a shave ice machine. I, of course, can do better and will be building a Shave Ice Mobile Van. That's right, we're taking the shave ice show on the road. I'm not sure yet which machine I like best and Consumer Reports is no help with this, so I want all of these for comparison purposes.

First, there's the classic Snoopy Snow Cone version:

Admittedly, I don't have high hopes for this next one:

I've been to Barbie's parties and trust, me, this one won't end well. But never let it be said that Mattel doesn't revisit ideas!

Lastly, we have the Disney Mickey Ice Shaver and Snow Cone Machine.

I find it to be...awkward...and yet highly erotic at the same time.

6. Pink Cadillac Leather Couch



Yeah, use your imaginations on this one. No, belay that; you'll just frighten yourselves. Having this in the home minimizes the risk of intrusive paparazzi encounters whilst in flagrante delicto, which accordingly ensures that no paparazzi will come to bodily harm as a result of their intrusiveness. So consider this a gift for the preservation of feckless paparazzi lives.

But really, the best part about this couch is that it once belonged to my sworn enemy Mary Kay. We all know what happens to my sworn enemies. Just ask Billy Mays.

7. Knife block



I so need this. It accessorizes nicely with the awkward Mickey Ice Shaver, actually.

8. TLAPD stocking stuffers

I need to have band-aids on hand for piratical accidents, and grog-flavored breath minds for chronic piratical halitosis.





9. R2D2 projection alarm clock



You see projection alarm clock. I see potential laser weaponry (with a little tweaking) for my quest for Face Mold Domination.

Ho ho, no, hoes.

More posts about animals and food

So it's that time of year when my Entourage and Toshi gather to challenge one another to consume bizarre food combinations in a time-honored ritual of male bonding and an attempt to curry my favor (although how that's supposed to work I'm still not sure). The only rule is that the items eaten have to be actual foodstuffs; no fair slipping in worms or KY Jelly or glass shards or sauteed Fio (and don't think they haven't tried). Frankly, I'm not sure who won this year's Ultimate Gross Food Combination Consumption Entourage Smackdown, because they're all passed out from puking. But here's a list of what was featured in this year's Smackdown, albeit alphabetically and not consumptively ordered:

-- Asparagus topped with grape jelly, Orange Julius, and chili powder
-- Candy corn sauteed in garlic, smothered in BBQ sauce and topped with fresh dill and mayonnaise
-- Clam chowder with maple syrup
-- Cheese Whiz
-- Cornflakes with catsup
-- Fudge & oyster milkshake
-- Graham cracker, pate & sauerkraut S'Mores
-- Liver merangue pie
-- Okra and tapioca pudding topped with shredded kidney beans
-- Soy pumpkin latte flavored with shredded tuna (dolphin-free)
-- Spice cake slathered with chicken lard and topped with an olive

Me, I was having none of this. Instead I perused eBay, as is my wont when bored. I think I finally have succeeded in finding the most random American Girl eBay listing ever:



OMG WTF I don't even... I know it says it's a lion, but it's more likely a banana overcompensating for its owner's penility by wearing a bad hairpiece. I don't really get how that works psychologically, but the evidence is clear.

Monkey of the Year Smackdown

Take a break from customizing your Celebrity Glass Eye Theater dolls -- because that is totally what you were doing, right? I have a bet with Jiggy that no one will take up my challenge. However, he has more faith in humanity than I do (ironic considering the depths of depravity he personifies). But me, yeah, I don't think anyone is brave or creative enough to take on my Halloween Costume Contest challenge. Then again I have perennially low expectations of you people, although I am willing to be surprised.

Anyway, take a break. Join with me in welcoming our contestants to the ring for the Monkey of the Year Smackdown.

Because there can only be one AG monkey left standing at the end of the year.

"But AJ," you whine. "Unfair! Fio is an orangutan, not a monkey."

More fool you. Yes, Fio is SUPPOSED to be a goddamned orangutan. But let's face facts: Lamie's entire collection is nothing more than a better-financed retread of mine. So that precious orangutan of hers? Yeah, it's nothing more than MY Toshi, hopped up on steroids, dipped in carrot juice, with its tail whacked off.

WTF, people. THIS is an orangutan:



THIS sure as hell is not:



And I know for a fact that "Fio" means "cheap rip-off of AJ's monkey" in the Riau dialect of Malay.

One of them must die, and it's not going to be my monkey. Toshi and I have been training for this event all year long. I understand that Fio has gotten a few tips from that reprobate raccoon in a can but whatever, you get what you pay for.

So bring it. Time for the Monkey of the Year Smackdown.



Refereed by my close personal friend the all-seeing Geico Sandwich, with Sugar the Evil Yorkie of Doom in the pocket of Team Fio:



So reach for your bankroll because Jiggy's bookmaker and smart money's on Team Toshi. Fio is going DOWN.

(And a big shout-out to Robot for skinning me up over on Playthings).

Celebrity Glass Eye Theater

What? Yes, it took me a month to recover from Talk Like a Pirate Day 2010. Jealous much? Your life should be so interesting.

So I was thinking about the AG eyeball black market the other day. You know how AG collectors are forever popping the eyes out of their damned dolls and selling the eyeballs on the black market? People have put their children and dogs through college doing this. Now me, I don't judge. But it did occur to me that a brilliant custom niche market has been overlooked.

Because seriously, people need to make custom Sammy Davis Jr, Peter Falk, and Sandy Duncan AG dolls. You all know about the time-space continuum rupture that resulted in these three B-list celebrities of the 70s being famous solely for having glass eyeballs, right? (No? Okay, so, maybe only I know about that. It might have been one of the items on those classified documents I passed along to Wikileaks last month, now that I think about it. Ooops). Well, people should be celebrating this rare harmonic convergence by customizing AG dolls as Sandy Duncan (I'm thinking fair skinned Josefina mold here), Sammy (totes Addy mold), and Columbo (pre-Mattel Classic mold). Complete with pop-out eye action.

I don't know why no one has thought about doing this before. Clearly it takes someone of my superior intellect to come up with such ideas. In fact, I believe this is one of my best ideas, ever. I like it so much that I am officially making it my AGPT HALLOWEEN COSTUME CONTEST BONUS CATEGORY.

So get on it. You've got a week to send me your entries at agplaythings@yahoo.com so I can post them on the blog. Go ahead and post them in your signatures on Playthings, too, but don't tell anyone why.

Who knew bail was so expensive?

My mailbox spilleth over from my legions of fans wondering where I've been. Listen, legions of fans, I'm not cleaning up your spills. If you'd read my blog at all this summer, you wouldn't need to pester me incessantly about my lack of blogging and posting.

Clearly memories are short. To recap: Jiggy and I crossed the country in our tricked-out Lanie camper on a corporately sponsored Summer of Love tour. I can't reveal the identities of the corporate sponsors (thereby building upon my allure as an international doll of mystery) but they are related to national security, international drug cartels and Peach Snapple. That's all you need to know.

Jiggy and I finished up the tour at Burning Man about a week or so ago. Things took an unexpected turn when Jiggy set out to register the tricked-out Lanie camper with the Black Rock City Department of Mutant Vehicles. Seems the camper wasn't mutant enough to qualify, but Jiggy was. He was immediately granted a license as an art car for reasons unknown but likely having to do with the quantity, variety, and laser illumination of his body piercings. However, he was later booted and hauled away for seven years worth of unpaid parking tickets. Here's his mug shot:



Who knew bail for this kind of thing would be so expensive? I need to sell the camper to recoup my losses on this. But it's time for that thing to go because after the various autopsies, parties, and crop harvesting, it's pretty much trashed. I stripped it of the sound system, warp drive and other accoutrements. But it will still make an extra special holiday gift for someone's little girl, especially once this sucker sells out at AG.

So yeah, if you see this ad on Craigslist, it's totally mine:

FOR SALE: 26 inch tall institutional green custom American Girl camper. Less than a year old with mileage, but runs on ethanol so your expenses will be low. Full disclosure: soiled bench cushion (may or may not be bodily fluids); shower does not work but custom platinum bidet is functional; dart and bullet holes in wall; lingering unidentifiable odors. Message board pulls down to create an autopsy table; medical instruments not included. Comes with early experimental edition of Warren Cash; rare and one of a kind (do not feed after midnight). Custom art decor of pretend loaf of bread, jars of peanut butter and jelly, pasta box and jar of sauce, juice cans and drink cartons decoupaged to walls. Due to its size, this item cannot be shipped USPS or to APO, FPO, the American Territories or Canada. Serious inquiries only.

Not My AG

As Jiggy and I continue our corporately-sponsored Summer of Love tour across the continental USA in the tricked-out camper, eschewing campsite hook-ups for other means of hooking up, I've been amusing myself now and again with a little online hacking. Last week I poked around the American Girl Innerstar U site and stripped a few unsuspecting avatars buck-naked and righteously bald. Because, really, they look better that way. The stuff AG has for virtual 'sale' in those Innerstar shops is inexplicably lame, even for AG.

What is it with the sloppy school-girl theme AG is pandering these days? Where are the assless leather chaps and the thong underwear that were supposed to be part of the new AG Meet ensemble? This stuff, it sucks.

And I know what sucks in the fashion industry because I read Vogue Magazine.

For instance:

Pretty and Plaid Dress

This? Otherwise known as Ode to Friends. Seriously, that plaid thing layered over a shirt is pure Rachel from Friends, circa 1994. Except she had some fashion sense, so maybe it's more Darlene from Roseanne, once she started dating the nerdy guy they're now pretending is young on Big Bang Theory. What, too many obscure TV references? Whatever. Point is, this dress screams retro 1990s to me and before that it screamed scary 1970s. Screaming in horror, across the decades.

Innerstar U Outfit

Hey kids! You, too, can don the standard Monday Morning uniform worn at institutes of higher learning everywhere. You'll be stylin' when you show up to class in old sweatpants, a mismatched sweatshirt, and a beanie cap to hide the fact that you haven't washed your hair since hitting the Row last Thursday night for that Greeks Around The World bash. Unidentifiable crusty stains and unwashed funk odors not included.

Starry Logo Hoodie

This item is meant to upgrade the aforementioned college uniform. Swap this hoodie out for the green sweatshirt outfit above and you are now the goody-good Liberal Arts student who opted out of the Around the World bash in favor of watching a Jane Austen marathon on BBC America. Pro: You've now seen the good version of Persuasion. Con: You still haven't gotten any. Unless you count getting felt up by your drunk roommate as she stumbled home at 2 AM, which damn well ought to count for something.

Western Riding Outfit

Are you one of those dolls who loves the rich nuances of American History but hates that the Women's Suffrage Movement eliminated the need for specialty female riding attire? Well hey, you're in luck now! Because AG has given you the Western Riding Outfit, ironically named given that it's only practical for riding if you're groovin' on one of those European side-saddles.

Fancy Riding Outfit

AKA the Dressage Diva Ensemble, this is for the doll who asked Mumsie and Diddums for a pony for Christmas and actually got one. I have nothing more to say to the likes of you.

Sweet Treats PJs

Here we have a unusually versatile offering from AG. It is juvenile enough for a 4 year old, but transitions nicely to a sexy stripper outfit for your forty year-old exotic dancing alter-ego "Cupcake." Nipple jewelry sold separately.

Bath Wrap Set

What is that? WTF. This, for the doll who is afraid to be naked for the thirty seconds it takes to get out of the shower and put on a god-damned robe? My former cellmate Martha Stewart has a money-saving DIY tip for you: grab a dish towel (preferably clean) and sew some straps on it. Voilà! Instant doll bath wrap. Hope you took notes on that, as this project will be the next featured Sew-Along over on Playthings.

Pet Show Outfit

What happens when Sugar the Evil Yorkie of Doom yarps on this outfit at your pet show? Because you know he totally will, being the high-strung rat bastard that he is.

Pet Show Accessories

You know who did this better? Yeah, every animal toy ever made. From Puppy in my Pocket to Littlest Pet Shop to Breyer Horses, it's been DONE. C'mon, AG, step up your game. Give us some real pet show accessories: pooper-scoopers, nail clippers, scissors to cut out the matted dingleberries from your pooch's posterior, and the discrete flask of Bourbon one needs after your ten grand furry "investment" decides to pee on a judge's shoe.

2-in-1 Running Outfit

This is for when you're on a tight budget and need to outfit two dolls at once, plus you want them to look like Mary Lou Retton and Bela Karolyi.

Healthy Smile Set

The hell? AG dolls have two teeth. How much hardware do they need? For that matter, where's the dental floss? Apparently AG wants your teeth to rot so they can then sell your doll dentures?

But hey, that's got me mentally seguing to the idea of geriatric AG dolls complete with Depends, Dearfoam slippers, and motorized Scooters. AG already has a Scooter design template based on my Scooter of Fail. This is brilliant: put together a decent MyGeri-AG collection and market it to mentally regressed nursing home patients. Yeah. I'm on it.

Innerstar P. U.

Wondering where I've been? Yeah, well, at the moment I'm tapping into someone's unsecured Wi-Fi while road tripping in the tricked-out camper. Prior to that, I paid a quick visit to the AG hospital for some Magic Eraser treatment after scratching my vinyl.

No, I'm not telling you how I scratched my vinyl.

But I will tell you that things at the AG Hospital have changed. Whooo boy. They busted this illegal eyeball trafficking ring down South last month, so things are tight over there now. The Hospital triage person actually had the gall to try to refuse me service on the grounds that I was a "custom doll" and "scary, creepy, and inappropriate" to boot. FFS. I think they were afraid I was going to suction out some eyeballs when no one was watching.

Which I totally did.



Anyway, I kicked some sense into the Hospital staff, got smoothed out, gave the Entourage a few weeks off, sent Righteously Bald Undead Yul Brynner down to rescue Gulf Coast sea gulls, and settled in with Jiggy to enjoy a quiet summer vacation.

Only I'm not precisely sure where Jiggy is. When he dropped me off at the Hospital, he muttered something about how there's "....nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge." That was three days ago. I'm not worried, though, since I have the keys to the stash. He'll be back soon enough.

In the meantime, I've been playing online games. I'm here to tell you that most online games are stupid and could be vastly improved by, well, me. Take, for instance, Farmville on Facebook. When you start playing Farmville, you are given something like fourteen plots of land filled with mature eggplant, and encouraged to trade cows. Really, Farmville, eggplant and cows? I don't think so. This is what my Farmville plots look like:



Screw Farmville.

But hey, there's all this hub-bub about AG's new virtual world, Innerstar U. Excuse me, but did we not recently have a talk in this very space about illegitimate compound wordings?

Innerstar, my muslin ass.

At least they didn't name it Inerstar U. That's like intentionally misspelling your kid's name so it will be 'different.' Let me tell you, your darling little Izabellahs, Mychals, Zacharies, Alisyns and Maddissynns don't want to be 'different.' They want to kill you while you sleep. They're all going to grow up to be strippers at the Inerstar Gentleman's Klub, with names like that.

Anyway, stupid games are in abundance at Innerstar U. Fortunately, I have better versions ready to slip into place once the site goes live on July 13. Read on:

Good Sports Center
With games like Dive In and Pom Pom Power.

Dive In is a Mississippi Delta Blues bar where you can drink til dawn, shoot pool, play high stakes games of air hockey and join the Monday night darts league. Pom Pom Power has to do with hot girl-on-girl cheerleader action; more than that I cannot say.

Shopping Square
This section features stores like Casual Closet, Girl Gear, Twinkly Toes, Pet Palooza, Real Beauty Salon, and Dream Decor.

Twinkly Toes is the most innovative venture from AG to date, representing the first attempt to reach out to the enthusiastic and vocal gay male AG lover. The Real Beauty Salon offers myriad options for tats, piercings, and gauges for your doll, while Dream Decor allows you to try Barbie fashions on your AG avatar. Girl Gear is a lingerie store for dolls. Mosh pits and crowd surfing are great fun for your AG pets at Pet Palooza.

Real Spirit Center
Featuring something called Body Balance. Can you make your floppy-limbed, non-ferruled, loosely-knotted doll stand up?

Yeah, we didn't think so. But you can try to do so here. Gravity not included.

Blue Sky Nature Center
Here your girl can learn about irony.

Rising Star Stables
With Jump for Gold.

Columbian Gold. Or Cuervo Gold. I can't decide.

Star Student Center
Cupcake Crazy, U-Rah-Rah, High Score Kiosk.

You go here after you've spent the night at the Rising Star Stables. What happens at the Star Student Center stays at the Star Student Center.

Brightstar House
With Fashion Fun, Pet Play, and Yearbook.

What? WHY IS ANY OF THIS COOL? I don't even....

Okay, wait, Yearbook? Yeah, I sign your virtual yearbooks. That's what happens there.

By the way, AG, I'm taking away your rights to alliteration right now. You've abused it one too many times and you're cut off.

Sparkle Studios
I told you, you're cut off.

Here, you get to draw pictures of me.

Five Points Plaza
This is a chat area. You get one point if you correct someone's grammar. Two points if you manage to segue the conversation to racism. Three points if you convince everyone that Molly is being archived next. Four points if you cause a stampede to the AG site by telling people something is either sold out or back in stock. And the winner with five points is she who manages to post lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody, in its entirety, before getting booted off.

Starlight Library
Featuring Help Desk Hubbub and Borrow a Book.

Well. Maybe you did it right this time, AG. Yay for reading.

Starfire Boathouse
This is where your dolls go to get it on. Contraceptive machines are in the lobby for you anatomically correct types.

Morningstar Meadow and the Market
With Bright Kites.

WTF? Bright kites? Oh wait, this must be where Jiggy gets his hallucinogens. That explains the bright kites.

UShine Hall
With Melody Maker.

Yeah, Melody Maker. She's a stripper.

Trust me. This Innerstar thing will be so much better when I'm done with it.

Feminine Mystique

One person's trash is another person's treasure. One person's art is another person's pr0n.

I am speaking, of course, about the perennial controversy surrounding bras for American Girl dolls.

Yes, they are out there; go look ye on eBay because I can't be assed to post photos. (What? Dare you complain about the lack of photos? Yeah, do that and I'll be forced to post random photos of naked AGPT moderators in retaliation. I guarantee you'll then have nightmares for weeks to come. The mere thought of naked AGPT mods makes me reach for the brain bleach).

Pix or not, I'm here to tell you that the notion of bras for AG dolls incites passions...and not in the way Jiggy's passions are excited, either. Some love the idea, some hate it. Me, I say live and let live. Superior dolls who have lovely lady lumps made of muslin and stuffing need support that is both beautiful and functional to keep our bodacious ta-tas front and center. That's the way of things. Of course, there are the other, lesser dolls in the AG universe who could host a shuffleboard game on their collective chests. Mind you, I'm not naming any names (coughLaniecough). And sooner or later, those flat-chested sisters will bloom, too, with the right combination of injectible illegally-obtained hormones from Jiggy's stash. (Guess we know what else Lanie's been growing in her "pizza garden.")

Suffice to say that there's a wide variety of cleavage and the lack thereof among AG dolls and damn, someone has to meet our needs. Because AG? All they ever crank out are those lame cami and brief sets.

Seriously, I don't get why the concept of doll bras is so scintillating to people. It's not like these are stained doll bras, after all. That is an entirely different wank.

So yeah, enough wanking about AG bras. You really want wank, you bring up the topic of maxi pads for AG dolls to collectors. Yes, yes, people have made them. And yes, yes, much wank ensued at the time. Now admittedly, it's a little harder for me to be sanguine about this topic, seeing as how it only serves to point out the long distances yet to be traveled by my Campaign for Anatomical Correctness. And don't even get me started on the topic of AG tampons. Because really, where the hell would the average AG doll (that excludes me, natch) put a tampon? It's not like she could even tuck it behind her ear, James Dean-old school style, since her ears are welded to her head.

And you know, I hesitated there to bring up the topic of ears because I just know someone will segue to wailing on about Sonali's "blobby ears." OMG fuck the blobby ears, people, seriously! She's just made that way, ALL RIGHT? (See what I did there?)

Sonali is totally fine with her ears, or at least she was until you people started complaining that she was "defective." Seriously, you blobby ear haters are like the Mean Girls of AG fandom. All you're doing is making Sonali self-conscious about her China-factory-given differences when you point and laugh. Leave off. Her ears are FINE, damn it.

The things that incite wank, I'll tell you what, they are mind-boggling. People need to chill or else I'm going to need to slap some tampon artillery on Righteously Bald Undead Yul Brynner and call it a day. That's right, tampon artillery. There is in fact one good use to which AG dolls could put tampons: inciting riots in the name of doll feminism and the Campaign for Anatomical Correctness.

THIS HERE is all you dolls need to start mass panic and maybe even get arrested for home-grown terrorism in your very own backyard. Because screw Lanie discovering the world in her own back yard; it's time for Tampon Wars!

Tampon Wars are the wave of the future in terms of infiltrating meetings of...uhm...okay, who isn't letting women into their exclusive gentlemen clubs these days? The Knights of Columbus? The Shriners? The Boy Scouts? Whatever, just pick one and commence battle. The best part about this concept (aside from the inherent element of surprise associated with an invading army of 18 inch vinyl and muslin dolls armed with tampons, aka the Rise of the Ginger Army as prophesied in the Book of Nellie) is that you get to freak out the men who are squicked at the mere suggestion of menstruation. Seriously, the fact that we sisters bleed from our hoohas on a lunar cycle? Yeah, it grosses them out.

Yo, men, listen up. We deal with this EVERY MONTH, okay? Stop being squeamish about it. It's not like you're involved in the gory parts, anyway...although maybe some of you are, I don't know. I don't judge.

Anyway, I think old boy clubs need more infiltrating. Forget the lady auxiliary branches; we want the real deal. Maybe Sandra Day O'Connor could infiltrate the Supremes on the basis of her superior intelligence and smoking hot body, but it's going to have to be Tampon Wars for the rest of the gentlemen's enclaves.

You need proof of Sandra Day O'Connor's awesomeness? You are pathetic. Feast your loser eyes upon this holiday card that a Playthings member received from Sandy back in the day.



Inspired? Good. Time to gird up.


The future's uncertain and the end is always near. Plus, Target is having a Bogo sale on eco-friendly Tampons this week.

I am your vinyl Grammar Goddess, and I am all right

So someone (read: one of those AGPT mods whom I refuse to publicly acknowledge) linked me to THIS, created by a self-described "grammatically conscientious person who frequents internet forums and YouTube." That right there is a rare breed.

I bring this link to your attention because I think the Alot is a stroke of brilliance, maybe even two strokes, possibly three. And yeah, if I think it's brilliant, you know it really is some kind of fucking brilliant.

To display my reverence for this anthropomorphic snarky genius, I have decided to add a pet Alot to my menagerie. Hopefully Godzilla won't eat it. Or alternately, that it won't eat Toshi. That would be a tragedy of epic food chain proportions, but I suppose it's a risk I'm going to have to take.

You know what else I need to add while I'm at it? A pet Alright. The Alright's name derives from its physical appearance, as all its outward features protrude from the right side, creating a most unusual effect. Witness:



I claim copyright for the Alright, but now it is in your brain (more on that below). The Alright is necessary because, hey, guess what kids? Brace yourselves: there is no such word as "alright."

The proper usage is "all right."

One could make an argument for "allright" as a compound word, if one were sufficiently lubricated by one's beverage of choice and arguing with someone who is not me. Because that compound word argument fails. Think about it: it's not like you start dropping letters out of the middle of other compound words. Why would you do so to alleged compound word allright? I mean, it's not a "balroom" or a "bilboard" or "dicwad," is it? Therefore, citing grammatical precedent, it's not all right to use alright.

And you know, I blame this slipping of standards on The Who. I like The Who, but can't forgive them for coining alright. To prove my point: CLICK HERE. Whoa, cosmic lipsynching fail! Seriously, what were the electic guitars plugged into, a duck's ass? The punters in the background all have very proper "WTF?" looks on their faces, probably because Pete Townsend had clearly not yet perfected his trademark windmill move. Maybe the guitars were plugged into Pete's ass, I don't know.

Anyway, I curse The Who for this non-standard abbreviation. Curse them! Even the American Dictionary, swimming in vernacular tides, decided in 1996 that they might as well acknowledge 'alright' as a wordage. Yeah, well, they suck.

You people, you write what you will. But remember this: every time you use the word 'alright' that Alright up there is going to crawl into your right ear and take a bite out of your brain.

And you know, the Alright's steady chomping away of your brain meats may very well explain the existence of The Squee:



Yeah.

Llama Tales

You've no doubt heard about the llama who showed up for the Bible reading? What, no? Here, read all about it: BORING RELIGIOUS LLAMA STORY HERE.

Yeah, whatever, my llamas don't go in for that. They are, however, known for wandering down to the corner bar and pulling a couple tall cool ones on a Saturday night. And they're more likely to cuss you out (in llama) than they are to quote Scripture. But hey, to each his own.

Right now my llamas are righteously bald.



Yes, I know that is a picture of Righteously Bald Yul Brynner. I happen to think it is more interesting to look at a photo of angry Yul Brynner than it is to look at a pathetic shorn llama. Yul Brynner, he was hot. Llamas, they are not hot...but they make good eats.

Anyway, my llamas were shorn last week so Jiggy could send their fleece to Louisiana. Llamas don't have oil in their hair, see, so their fleece makes the perfect absorbent for catastrophic oil spills. The llamas don't care about being balded so long as they have a few brews handy and access to the latest installment of ROCKET LLAMA. Plus now they will be all comfy cool in the summer heat. We had a neighbor once who used to shave her collie in the summer, and that dog looked like ass without fur. Its ass especially looked like ass, and let me tell you, a collie ass should not be hairless.

But llamas? They're used to getting shorn. And it's for a good cause.

What is not good in any way is this lousy oil spill. WTF, is someone out to destroy New Orleans? I know I'm not the first to articulate that paranoid idea but really, I don't think it's so damned paranoid when you get right to it. The good times we're supposed to be rolling in down there aren't meant to be soaked in crude...or at least not that kind of crude. My outrage covers plenty of political ground because as I see it, there's plenty blame to go around.

Things Need To Be Fixed, that's what I'm saying. And if they aren't fixed soon, I've got surplus stock of llama beans to pass along to the lazy asses what should be doing the fixing. And hey, I'll raise Yul Brynner from the dead to deliver said llama beans while I'm at it. If you thought Righteously Bald Yul Brynner was fierce? Yeah, you don't know fierce until you've messed with Righteously Bald Undead Yul Brynner.

Scary, creepy, and inappropriate musicians

I'm here today to talk to you about musicians.

But first, let's talk about Jimmy Buffett.

I had to start new paragraphs there, because putting "musician" and that man's name in the same one would upset the time-space continuum due to the enormity of the oxymoron it would generate.

That loser Jimmy Buffett! I have it on good authority that he owns a time machine, because how else was he able to steal both the parrot that should rightfully have belonged to me (and fuck you for that, AG) as well as my musical career?

That's right. I wrote Margaritaville, not that loser. All those songs about booze? Yeah, mine. And those songs about pirates? Also me. "Why Don't We Get Drunk" (and Screw)? Okay, that one was Jiggy's, but it was about me. Volcano? Also by me. (See previous post on why volcanoes are awesome. Not that this needs to be elaborated upon because, clearly, they just are.)

That "He Went to Paris" travesty was all Jimmy, though.



He did not, however, steal my sense of style. Obviously. Granted he'd look ridiculous in a black American Girl shirt and a red bandana, but frankly it would be an improvement over the above photo.

So now the truth is out, next time you see Jimmy Buffett wandering around (because really, how could you miss him?), do give him a kick in the shins for me.

Jimmy Buffet is on my mind because I am bothered by not having any living musicians in my Entourage. Not that I'd consider adding him! He just pisses me off, is all. And before you ask, yeah, I'm still working on bringing Warren Cash to life. Be patient: DNA is tricky stuff. Also, my offer still stands for a lifetime Entourage position to any musician who can beat John Mayer out for more awards at the Grammys...or any other contest...or who can kick him in the balls.

So yeah, I've been thinking about musicians. To remedy the Entouragical lack thereof, I have decided to add Voltaire to my Entourage.



I think he'll fit right in. The man has a song called "Zombie Prostitute." You should be able to tell from the title alone that it is pretty much the definition of "scary, creepy, and inappropriate." And that you shouldn't listen to it while your kids are in the room.

Also, his violinist is awesome.

"But AJ," you say, "how does that make him awesome?" You're a fool for asking. Everyone knows that violin/fiddle in modern music is both awesome and under-utilized. Voltaire had the good taste to include violin in his music and to hire a kick-ass violinist.

Ergo, Voltaire is awesome. Photogenic as well. And now, part of my Entourage. Welcome, Voltaire.

Volcanoes are hot, and so am I

So, yeah, volcanoes have been taking a lot of heat lately. That is ironically timely, considering that someone on the Internet whose graphic I stole said that May is Volcano Awareness Month. I know, it's not May yet, but it will be soon. Unless the world is destroyed by simultaneous cataclysmic volcanic eruptions on all continents, that is.

I like volcanoes. I relate to and admire their collective commitment to the single-minded physical manifestation of rage: the seething cloud build-up, the oozing of hot lava, the apocalyptic eruption, and the fumarolic cooling period during which you're never quite sure when they're going to blow again. Clearly volcanoes are metaphors for my daily existence. Most people who are not me only dream about causing 1.7 billion dollars worth of lost revenue to the airlines industry. But that's all in a day's work for me and a volcano.

Volcanoes are useful, really. They created Hawaii. And there are often lots of kickass gemstones left in the wake of an eruption. There is also volcanic pumice, which keeps our heels nice and soft. Mine, anyway; yours could be like yak leather for all I know (or care). Volcanic ash enriches soil, too. Plus volcanoes have excellent grammar and syntax.

Wait, no, I'm confusing them with Vulcans. Easy mistake; Mr. Spock is also hot.

However, I call bullshit on the trope that virginal sacrifices are necessary to the care and keeping of volcanoes. WTF, what's a volcano going to do with a virgin anyway? The fire god Vulcan (not to be confused with the aforementioned Vulcans) does not need a steady diet of virgins to remain satisfied; he's clearly taking care of business all on his own. And anyway, how are you supposed to get said virgin to the caldera of an oozing volcano? It's not like you can climb up the sides with her, dodging hot lava all the way. And I don't think the tribal Pacific Islanders had budgets for helicopters. Bullshit, I say, bullshit. However, I cannot speak to the truth about volcanic Tom Hanks bloodlust. I don't think it can be true, though, because there's only one Tom Hanks and lots of volcanoes. They'd all be fighting over him. The losers would get Peter Scolari.

One thing is for sure: volcanoes do represent sex. I don't think I should have to spell this out for you. If you don't get this metaphor, you really ought not be reading my blog.

I think what I like best about the current volcano hysteria is the ensuing cognitive dissonance about Iceland having volcanoes. Hell yes, Iceland has volcanoes; 130 at last count, all with cool names that no one will ever use for an AG doll. Since the last time Eyjafjallajökull blew was 1821, it was due again. No steady diet of Volcano Virgin Chow was going to hold it back, let me tell you.

I love how people get all freaked out. Scientologists are wetting themselves about all the disembodied Thetans who are now scrambling around Europe to find bodies to inhabit, because they know that's the real reason aircraft were grounded. And then there's the panic over the EVIL EDVARD MUNCH SCREAM-FACE that showed up on on a radar image of the crater. FFS, people, zoom in! That's not Munch's Scream-face.


Yeah, me and volcanoes. We're hot.

There will be a test tomorrow.

I'm still pissed about under-aged girls getting their training thongs in a bunch about me. So here's the deal: I'm instituting a new policy over at AG Playthings. Anyone I suspect of lying about her age must pass this test before becoming a member of the forum. Mostly this is so I can be assured that the little charmers have enough common sense that the mods won't spend all day undoing their spam. Because seriously, the mods have better things to do, like cleaning my casino. That's right, I have a casino.

Here's the quiz.

You join the AGPT Message Forum. On your first day there, do you:
a) Post the same message to every thread you read.
b) Create a sales listing using stock photos, and tell people to make you an offer.
c) Create a listing for your brand new doll repair business, even though your skills are pretty much limited to brushing hair, changing clothing and taking badly lit photos.
d) All of the above


Oh, hey, look: it's the official thread on Lanie's release! You reply with:
a) "Hey, will anyone sell me their Lanie doll?!?!?!?"
b) "Supppp every1?"
c) Actually, you don't reply. You start a new thread about Lanie. Then you start five more. Then after you get yelled at, you delete your posts so none of the threads make any sense.
d) All of the above


The FAQ is:
a) The noise a duck makes.
b) A word you shouldn't use around your mother. Or grandmother. Your Dad doesn't care.
c) Tremendously long and boring.
d) All of the above


Cross-posting is:
a) I don't know, but it sounds kind of kinky.
b) Something they do in soccer, right?
c) My best friend got banned 4 it and its so not fair cuz u people r stalking what we do on the Interwebs plus who cares its just dollz.
d) What?


Necroing threads is:
a) Gross!!one11!!eleventy
b) When you reply to a thread whose last reply is older than two weeks.
c) Does it involve a zombie invasion?
d) Funny, lololol.


How do you write 'you are' as a contraction?
a) Your
b) You're
c) Your're
d) Yarr


Select the option with the proper word usage:
a) See Dick run. Run, Dick, run before Cthulhu grabs you with it's tentacles.
b) Jane is playing with Cthulhu. Its a stupid thing to do.
c) Angry Jess is awesome.


Angry Jess is:
a) Scary
b) Creepy
c) Inappropriate
d) Awesomer than you
e) All of the above


Jiggy's favorite hobbies are:
a) cussing, getting drunk, dropping acid, and betting on ponies
b) fomenting anarchy and disrupting the world order
c) wearing dresses
d) alchemy
e) prank-calling Cousin Antonin
f) eating lobster at midnight on the third Saturday of each month that has two or more vowels
g) smuggling firearms into Third World countries
h) racing sea turtles
i) cultivating poppies
j) identifying exotic roadkill as practice for classifying human remains post-nuclear holocaust
k) all of the above


My birthday is:
a) January 1
b) June 21
c) April 1
d) May 1


My favorite holiday is:
a) St. Patrick's Day
b) Mardi Gras
c) Talk Like a Pirate Day
d) April Fool's
e) All of the above


My sworn enemy is:
a) Billy Mays
b) Eminem
c) John Mayer
d) Mariah Carey
e) Kanye West
f) American Girl
g) That one mod on the top of my list
h) Lamie
i) Mary Kay
j) Too many to list


My entourage consists of
a) Jiggy Nye
b) David Duchovny
c) Adam Carpatina
d) The Rock
e) Johnny Depp
f) Every custom AG boy doll ever made, or to be made
g) All men want me
h) Many women want me
i) You want me
j) All of the above


Essay question:
You are driving a bus. At the first stop, eleven people get on. At the second stop, 5 people get off and 7 get on. At the third stop 14 people get on and 6 have to stand, but no one offers a seat to the pregnant lady. At the fourth stop a guy dies on the bus but the control center won't authorize a medical stop. At the fifth stop, this one guy sends his kid up in a flying saucer, but no one cares because they've all been there, done that. At the sixth stop a guy gets off, throws up on the sidewalk, then gets back on the bus. At the seventh stop, the wheels on the bus go round and round. Why is Angry Jess awesome?


Extra Credit:
Write a response to the following the way you should if it was a topic on the forum. Use a dictionary, thesaurus, spell-check, descriptive imagery, and alliteration: Angry Jess is to Bea Arthur as Lanie is to ________.


So, yeah. I think I've got all the important screening criteria covered. If you have more questions that will help weed out the pre-pubescent posers, drop me a line. Be serious about this, though; don't waste my time with trifles.

The Internet is a Dark and Dangerous Place

Ever Google yourself?

Of course you have. It's just not a topic that comes up in polite company. Well, go on and admit to it, because this isn't polite company. Googling oneself for fun and profit yields interesting results. Personally, I have an Entourage that Googles me regularly.

They found a lovely homage to me on YouTube, which unfortunately has since been removed by the user. It referred to my stunning visage thusly: "Creepy picture, right?" Yeah, that's right, my reputation for scary, creepy, and inappropriate preceded me. I actually quite approved of the video, especially the color dynamics. Kudos, kid, and pity you took it down. I told everyone to give you lots of stars. Next time you put up a video homage to me, remember that my personal soundtrack should include a bit of Queen, a cut from Poisonous Lookalike by Warren Zevon, that kind of thing.

The Entourage found another random comment: "I love Jess, and I will get some eventually to make into custom dolls, but Jess herself has forever been ruined for me. Now when I look at her, all I think of is Angry Jess. As much as I love AJ, no Jess will ever be as awsome (sic) as her."

Wait, what? Let's see....you love me, and yet you hate me? You're a regular doll-loving/hating Push Me-Pull You, aren't you? Speaking of which, meet my newest llama, er, llamas.



Photo courtesy of Huffington Post. Where I am a regular contributor, under various noms de plume.

I love this comment: "I saw Angry Jess’ website a few months ago. It is very vulgar and unamusing. I can’t believe she is a moderator for AG Playthings."

Yeah, we are not amused. Vulgar? Why yes, yes, and thank you.

When on a vanity search, one passes from the sublime to the irritating to the sheer WTF. Here now, an edited-for-interest discussion made of pure WTF on another site (one which shall remain nameless to protect the WTFery):

-- Angry Jess on Blogger is SCARY! She swears a lot and gets mad
-- Well of course she does, she's Angry Jess! She is also kind of mean on AG Playthings...lol.
-- What's the link for the blog... lol... I like reading doll blogs
-- WARNING - I looked at the blog before posting this (and I wish I hadn't...), and Angry Jess says a lot of swear words and inappropriate things. I would not read it if I were you.
-- Her blog posts are basically PG-13. Be carefulon Angry Jess's blog. She thinks of Lanie as a Barbie with a polo shirt.
-- Ha ha I made a Julie one

Then they digress for mindless squee over a vaguely pissed off Julie Photoshop, one of Cleft Palate Rebecca which good taste forbids me from reposting, lame alterations of JLY dolls that boredom forbids me to further examine, and an interesting if tame rendition of Zombie Kit. Then comes a brief highjack into a discussion of what ROTFLMAO means, and an admonition that one must be 13 or older to join Playthings. Damn straight, that last bit.

Trust me, my summary of this discussion is far more interesting than the discussion itself. Back to the good parts...

-- Nope, Angry Jess is all about good grammar and punctuation, and no chatspeak on AGPlaythings. That's why she's there
-- I wouldn't get on her nerves, and I bet no one on AGPlaythings wants to. I have good grammar and use punctuation.
-- mmm-hmmm. I just CHECKED out her blog one day to see what all the fuss was about, and it scared me to heck. I couldn't believe anybody could write such vulgar things! Does she like ANYTHING?!
-- I couldn't believe someone could write things like that while being a DOLL! She is the scariest doll I've ever seen.
-- I read the blog and I wish I didn't. I hate that stupid Jess. She is just ****!JK
-- I wonder what happened to make her go so... bad...
-- Yeah, maybe her previous owner always threw her on the ground, stomped on her, kicked and/or threw dirt on her, attempted to rib (sic) her limbs and head off, attempted to cut her hair, shoved her into a toychest head first, threw books on her, threw her on concrete, and many more things. In my opinion, the Angry Jess blog should be rated.....EAINFAUTAOTOEOAWDL/UP (Explicit And Is Not For Anyone Under The Age Of Ten Or Eleven Or Anyone Who Doesen't Like/Use Profanity)
-- OK! I confess!! Sheshh!!!! I....AM SCARED OF THESE DOLLS!!!! And I am 10.
-- Theres (sic) a lot more on 'Angry Words From Angry Jess'. Go check it out, but only look at the pictures and not the words, for your own sake.

Ah, do let's discuss this, shall we? Once we get past the visual of that fan-fic description of my angry origins, that is.

First of all, kids, did you happen to see the disclaimer on my blog? You know, the one that says in big letters before you even get to see so much as a pixel of me:

Content Warning
The blog that you are about to view may contain content only suitable for adults.

Dully warned, you can proceed at your own risk or back away quietly.

Hey, guess what, kids! IF YOU ARE TEN YEARS OLD, you are supposed to GO AWAY! Not stick around and "look at the pictures and not the words." FFS! What part of "only suitable for adults" don't you understand?

Yeah, I get that your judgment might not be the best, and that the Content Warning is like a sign to a leprechaun that reads "No Gold Here." But that brings me to my next point:

WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOUR PARENTS?

Because seriously, I'm not kidding: the Internet is a dark and dangerous place. My blog is the least of your worries, parents. Let's face it: if you aren't monitoring your kids' Internet surfing and they are young enough to be scared by the likes of me, you're falling down on the job.

But since the parents clearly aren't here reading my admonitions, and the 10 year olds are, let me speak directly to the kids:

Yo, 10 year olds (or anyone else scandalized by my blog)? Putting aside the fact that you ignored all common sense by proceeding after reading the Content Warning, why are you continuing to read this blog if it bothers you? What need have you to titillate and disgust yourselves with my vulgarity? You know what is going to happen if you don't stop, don't you? That's right: you will go blind. You will grow hair on your palms. You will become insane. Your growth will be stunted. You will grow up to be sterile.

There now, you've been warned.

Oh, and speaking of masturbation? Yeah, Johnny Depp found something on that other message forum for AG dolls. Something so profoundly disturbing, so non-family friendly, so unsafe, disrespectful and unkind that I hesitate to even point it out to you, gentle readers. And yet, in my role as flattener of asshattery and puncturer of platitudinarians, I must reveal this filth, this horrifying excuse for an emoticon.

Brace yourselves.


That's right. Humpy! Kitty is getting it done.

I encourage you to randomly include as many Humpy! Kitty emoticons in your posts on all forums, AG or otherwise, as you can. Do this in honor of all that we collectively hold sacredly scary, creepy, and inappropriate.

Not to mention vulgar.