Because Angry Trumps Grumpy

"Oh hey AJ, why are you holding your knitting needles like that?"

Because I'm going to use them to lobotomize the next bitch who asks me if Grumpy Cat is me in feline form. That's why.

 
Seriously, people, this is what you think about? The world is full of happenings far worthier of your attention. I mean, China pulled 1000 dead ducks and 16000 dead pigs out of its rivers, and George W. Bush pulled a talent for painting puppies out of an unnamed orifice. There's a terrorist plot to mess up Donald Trump's hair by building a wind farm near his Aberdeen golf resort. (Well played, Scotland, well played).  The publisher of Fifty Shades of Gray just posted record profits, thus cementing the allure of plodding pr0n prose and the wallet-power of people who prefer masturbating to reading (I know you're one of them. Whatever, I don't judge. Just remember, Santa sees you when you're sleeping and he knows when you're awake and playing with yourself. So yeah, we'll see if he brings you that new American Girl doll after what you did there).  North Korea and Iraq want to blow things up, Cyprus is about to financially implode, and the worst international crisis of all is looming because Prince Harry is coming to the US in May to play naked billiards with your daughters.

And all you people can talk about is a constipated-looking cat?

Let me spell it out for you: stop sending me messages about Grumpy Cat. I thought it would stop after the first three but we're now on message #27 and counting.  FFS, enough is enough.

 

Don't get me wrong; I like cats. I like cats more than dogs, even. Of course, I like Godzillas more than cats, and I really like tequila. But I digress; those things have no bearing on this particular situation. My current frustration isn't born of anti-cat prejudices, that's what I want you to know.  I'm just sick of seeing that damned cat and having comparisons drawn.

Granted, David Letterman built his career on beating jokes into the ground through repetition, stomping on their dead punchlines and reducing them to bloody comedic pulp, then watching them resurrect and take on new lives as anti-jokes. That's not what's happening here, people. You aren't David Letterman, and sheer repetition of memes will not bestow the kiss of comedic genius upon your sweaty brows. Sheer repetition of memes will get you knitting needles to the skull.

And no, I don't care that Grumpy Cat is on the cover of Time Magazine. Whatever.  I'm on the cover of Cosmo.

And as the blockbuster sales of Fifty Shades of Gray proved, smut will always outsell serious.  Just like angry trumps grumpy.

So take that, cat.

A Movement about Saige Copeland

Overheard at the 7-11 today:  "Ass pimples are the worst."

I can think of worse things than ass pimples. But it occurred to me that "Ass pimples are the worst" would make a sublime Facebook status update. Because you know, it's all fun and games until you get an ass pimple. I'm speaking hypothetically, of course, as no such blemish has ever sullied my muslin ass.

I can't help but think that if enough people posted variations of "Ass pimples are the worst" as their Facebook status updates, we could start a movement. An ass pimple Movement.  It could save the world, because people would be so flummoxed by this that they'd forget about arguing on the Internet. So I am personally advocating a Facebook status update Movement about ass pimples.

What? Look, there are certainly worse things to take responsibility for in life, like perpetrating the marketing of Saige Copeland, American Girl's latest poser Girl of the Year character, on the doll-buying public.

It's that time of year again, so do let's talk about this. Saige Copeland arrived on the AG scene on January 1, 2013 with all the fanfare of a whoopee cushion. That's thanks to adult collectors who spoiled her debut because they had nothing better to do than sit around all day (getting ass pimples) trying to crack (ha ha, ass reference) AG's website for clues about new products that would come out two weeks later.  And oh my, what a shock they had because (brace yourselves) the collection  was revealed to be (*drum roll*) Expensive and Boring!  Plus the doll has an eminently forgettable face mold (Read: not The Jess).

However, she does have a hot air balloon:

Now based on my history, I know you people expect me to trick this baby out and use it for hot air balloon drag racing. Granted, that has some appeal. I could also use it to spy on Cousin Antonin. Since he believes anything spotted from normal aircraft is fair game for criminal prosecution, he might become so excited at the sight of the floating hot air balloon outside his window that he'd croak right there. Cousin Antonin's sudden hot air balloon-provoked death would in turn annoy the hell out of Slate, since its Supreme Court Justice Death Calculator has predicted that he'll be around until 2017. This seems like a win-win situation, killing Cousin Antonin and pissing off an online current affairs and culture magazine, all in one fell swoop.  It's not often that I can annoy both conservatives and liberals at the same time.

But then David Duchovny reminded me of the best potential usage of this accessory with three simple words: Mile High Club.

Yeah. Hittin' it, American Girl-style.

Of course, Jiggy is planning to use the balloon for drug running across the Mexican border. Fortunately the set comes with binoculars, map, pilot's log book, camera, and a messenger bag "that's roomy enough to store everything inside."  Yeah, so it's pretty much all included, although a GPS would have been nice because who the hell uses maps these days?

All must be revealed:  Saige's real name is Oregano Tokeland. And I hereby claim the record for most pot references in a single AG-themed blog entry.  Yay, me.

Oregano comes with some other stuff, like a posable horse.  I'm okay with that since little girls can use it to kick the other lame Girls of the Year dolls in the ass. There's also a painting set that Jiggy covets. He's in a post-modern phase right now, but he also likes painting naked women and, occasionally, himself. I mean his body, not self-portraits. I'm not sure there's enough paint in this set for what he plans so hopefully replacement parts will be available.

As for the rest of the collection? Yeah, Nicki Phlegmball Fleming called from 2007 Girl of the Year Purgatory and said she wants her clothes and theme back. I'm pretty sure that in addition to boring re-tread, we're dealing with corporate espionage here. Apparently spies from AG development team snuck in and stole Godzilla's Pendleton blanket vomit to make that Sweater Outfit.  It's really hard to prevent Godzilla from chewing on Pendleton blankets. Don't believe me? Come over here and try it sometime. 


And excuse me, but are these gold lame cowboy boots? Oh wow, that adds a true note of authenticity to the New Mexico theme. On the other hand, between this pair and Cecile's New Orleans pimp boots, a fashion forward collector can outfit the entire Ginger Army (whose Rise was prophesied in the Book of Nellie) in golden footwear to bring out the highlights in their hair.

No sane person will purchase any of this crap. Of course, that means adult AG collectors will proclaim it all drool-worthy and snap it up.

Oh, and in an attempt to make this year's doll culturally relevant, AG saddled her with a story about preserving arts education in schools. I approve of this and of course Jiggy's all over that concept.  It's important to keep your products culturally relevant for maximum marketability; I'll have to think about that as I promote my Ass Pimple Status Update Movement. For instance, if an update can tie into the up-coming Hollywood awards season, so much the better since Facebook's promo bots will push it to the top of reader feeds. So, something like "That Lincoln movie was so long it gave me an ass pimple!" would work well, I'm thinking. Yeah, I know Lincoln had enough troubles without being associated with ass pimples but one does what one must when dealing with marketing, because it's all about the bottom line. Substance and style do not interbreed.

Which is why AG gave you people Oregano Tokeland's uninspired collection to look at for the rest of the year. Have fun with that. 

Holiday Gift List, post-Mayan apocalypse edition

Many of you got your undies in a bunch because I didn't post my annual holiday wishlist last year.  I don't see why you should be bothered by this. I mean, I took a chance and trusted to my readership's tastes. That I received 17 sets of Dearfoam slippers, 21 pairs of Isotoner gloves, and a Snuggie was to be expected.  I did not find the Dearfoam slippers to be worthy of comment but the Isotoner gloves tipped the WTF-o-meter for thoughtlessness (I'm a doll with fused fingers, FFS). The Snuggie was somewhat acceptable since it was festooned with skulls. I donated all that to my local homeless shelter, except for the Snuggie which I gave to Godzilla. I shrugged off your feeble collective attempts at gift-giving without guidance as no better than I could have predicted. It was certainly less than the worst-case scenarios. I mean, I was expecting cartoons of Ruthie Meet shoes.

Anyway, I know you losers need help so let me pry you from your greedy grasping discussions about the over-priced doll crap you want to fill your houses with and prod your nascent altruism with this list of Things AJ Recommends as Kick-Ass Gifts in 2012. Yeah, and STFU about me posting this on December 23rd because I know damn well that you've just started your shopping. 

First on the list is this lovely item from your friends at Think Geek:

That's a Tauntaun Sleeping Bag, and it's officially licensed by LucasFilmTM because you can't be snuggling up in an unlicensed tauntaun. That's illegal in some states. Jiggy has one of these bags out in his workshop that he catches quick Jiggy-naps in when he's working on his Burning Man installations. The bag, while bulky, is portable enough that he can tote it around and use it to pass out in wherever he wants to. Jiggy's bag has a custom entrail-slit body-warming feature, but you'll pay extra for that.


Next up is a home decor item:  

Nice detailing, but it'd have been cooler if he'd been stabbed with a knitting needle.

Speaking of which:

Pirate Knitting, CafePress for the win.  I want to see all the single dollies wearing these in 2013. 

Some of you may still have the NWTF umbrella I put on my gift list back a few years ago. If you don't, you should. Not a day passes when I don't say "Now, WTF?" multiple times and I'm sure if you read the AG Playthings message forum that phrase is part of your regular vocabulary as well. Buy this item and you can punctuate your NWTF utterances by cutting a bitch in style, or at the very least perfecting your computer monitor knife-tossing skills:

I find this next plushie item to be disturbing in a "stuffed animals shouldn't be prancing around and showing their multiple legs like furry hybrid Angelina Jolies" way.

It's a Steiff Alpaca Teddytaur, which I guess every household needs that contains small children who are training to be strippers.  I don't even know. Points because it's made of alpaca, though.

When it comes to plushies, I myself am partial to these Venereal Disease Stuffed microbes.  I think all high schools should be equipped with these for health class lessons. Make learning fun and cute!

This Waffle and Syrup Sheet Set isn't my style but it'd no doubt work for some of you slobs since your, uhm, syrup stains would blend in.

 

Speaking of stains, for the love of Jiggy, someone get Mariah Carey a jug of this stuff, quick:

Looking for a useful gift for your favorite forum moderator who is not me? Look no further. They each need multiple pairs of these gloves for all the cleaning up they need to do after you people:

I can heartily recommend this item from Etsy, the Rude Little Black Book. I have multiple volumes. Now you know how I document my List.

Last but not least, I recommend you people purchase multiples of this handy workplace tool, the self-inking WTF rubber stamp.

There are some days when I wake up, stamp this on my forehead, and call it a day.  I'm sure you know that feeling if you read AG Playthings or, really, any other online site populated by people with keyboards, opinions, and a genetic deficiency of common sense and class.

As for me and what I want? Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want. You know how ancient Egyptian embalming techniques involved inserting a long, iron hook into the skull and slowly pulling out the brain matter?  Yeah, I want a really, really, really lo-o-o-ng iron hook so I can insert it into the heads of certain people and pull their brains out of their asses.  It's a debt I think I owe to humanity. You can thank me later.  Oh, and get me some of those long plastic modding gloves while you're at it.

Sandy is a stupid name for a hurricane

WTF kind of name is Sandy? Wasn't that the name of the character that Olivia Newton John portrayed in Grease?

Why would you name a hurricane after her? She couldn't even tell that John Travolta was gay!

I seriously hated Grease. It tops my List of Worst Musicals Ever. Well actually, it is tied with Annie. But if American Girl ever makes Julie: The Musical that one will push them both off the List.

Anyway, I'm here to tell you that Sandy is a lame-ass name for the storm to end all storms, the storm-apocalypse, the Frankenstormaggedon of all times. Damn it, this storm is meant to contribute to the fulfillment of the Mayan prophecy of the end of days in 2012 along with the earthquake in Canada, those tsunami warnings in Hawaii, and Yoko Ono's latest album release. And they called this thing SANDY?

FFS. They could have at least called it Jess in honor of its scarifying natural wrathfulness.

Whatever. I just want you people to know that even though you piss me off on a regular basis, I've got your backs. Someone needs to step up and protect you lot from the horrors of Sandy. So fear not: I've sent Godzilla to the eastern seaboard. He'll be coordinating search and rescue operations.

Yeah. Now that American Girl is selling Licorice again, I expect you people to feed him well.

"Insecurity is as cruel as the grave."

Yeah, that's what Nicki Minaj said related to her feud with Mariah Carey. Right after she threatened to shoot Mariah.

My, my my, this shit is gettin' REAL, people. I'm concerned.

See, Mariah is a charter member of my List. No one else has dibs and only I can take her out.

So back off Nicki, go pick on someone your own size. Judging by your emaciated status and abnormally chiseled facial bones, that would probably be one of those scary-ass Sybarite dolls.

OMG, that picture of red hot Nicki and Mariah?  Every time I look at it, I feel the urge to deflate all four of their boobs with a sequined red thumbtack.  But hey, we all know that the spilling-over boobage look sells. Let's face facts:  even little girls in AG's target market want dolly décolletage. They sure as hell don't want a sports bra for their flat-chested dolls. WTF, sports bra: 

No self-respecting pre-teen girl wants to look like that!  My American Girl, my muslin ass. Come on AG, market some inflatable boobs to slip down in there and sell them for $28 a pair. Imma tell you what, they'll fly off the shelves.

Yeah, maybe someday. Don't hold your breath waiting, though. After all, it took American Girl five long years to finally step up and emulate my own trademark fashion-forward look:

 Yeah. You know you want it.

Glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife

The latest round of releases from American Girl came out today and collectors over on the Playthings message forum are salivating and skating in their drool puddles. Of course, half of them are bored already with the new stuffs and are ready for the next round of releases.

Fickle fools. As if it's not enough that American Girl has allowed Julie and Ivy to reach paradise by the dashboard light in their new custom wheels with none other than Meatloaf.

The resemblance is uncanny, although it must be noted that the above photo is a more recent one of Mr. Loaf. At the start of his career he looked like Charles Manson's older, meatier brother.  Actually, he pretty much looks like that all the time.

We might need to add some Meatloaf DNA to the Warren Cash project. He could stand to look a little meatier and also, he needs to howl better. Werewolf of London sounds anemic.

C'mon, sing it, Meatloaf. Show the kids how it's done.

Paradise by the Dashboard Light

Yeah.

Nuts!

You've no doubt read about the guy who was arrested for having replica testicles on the bumper of his truck. LINK

Yeah, you know it, that was Jiggy.

The arrest warrant claims that this was an "obscene display" but we all know that one person's bumper nuts are another person's art. Literally. Those bumper nuts were part of Jiggy's next Burning Man installation! He'd been worried because they weren't displaying the proper lighting sequence, decided to run out for a quick test drive, and forgot to bring his license along. The charges are totally trumped up and I'm pretty sure Donald Trump is behind this. He's always had it in for Jiggy, what with Jiggy having better hair and a valid birth certificate.

Donald Trump is on my List.

So look, people, I need to make bail and defense money. Octomom offered to send me the proceeds from her new film, which was generous and all but I told her to hold onto the money because, well, yeah. There are lines that even I won't cross. Well, mostly. I do need to issue a public apology for my part in American Girl doll parts black market trafficking. Those of you whose dolls woke up in baths of ice water with their stitches undone, well, uh, sorry. But #26, oh dear #26 with your recessive amber eyes, watch your back. I have to do what I have to do.

Speaking of eyes, while the Warren Cash cloning project is on hiatus due to Jiggy's current indisposal, I'm pleased to report that we've made headway on our other scientific experiments. Behold, the first successful doll-to-dog eye transplant:





Yeah, I know we need to tweak it a little. We used Michelle Bachmann as our prototype and the scale isn't quite right.





In other money-making news, Jiggy left instructions for the tannery to operate at maximum capacity once we got word that Cruella de Ville wanted to buy up all the Sugar dogs. This is a win/win/win situation. She gets her coat, I get rid of Sugar because AG has to retire him due to low stock, and we get an influx of much-needed cash.

I think I could rake in even more money if I could figure out a good use for Bitty Babies. I mean, they have to be good for SOMETHING. I tried to market them to Angelina Jolie as family expanders but she said they weren't diverse enough.

In other news, the adult collectors over on the AGPlaythings message forum are all a'twitter about the summer's American Girl product releases. Based solely on a signature graphic they have pegged new character Caroline Abbott as a cross-dressing, red-haired, blue-eyed, War of 1812 soldier who steals Dolley Madison's snack cakes, lives by the sea and comes complete with spyglass, widow's walk and her very own whale harpoon. Plus she has the pox and scurvy. The latter can finally be revealed as justification for the Marie-Grace face mold, so AG designers can say "What? She IS sucking on lemons. She'll die of scurvy if she doesn't!"

They are so off with their speculations, I don't even. Look, I know for true facts that Caroline Abbott is a character from 1790s Whiskey Rebellion in Pennsylvania and she comes complete with still. You know that won't be good enough for some people, though. Some fool is going to turn Caroline into a time traveler to the 1970s so she can borrow Julie's new Pinto wagon with hot spontaneous engine combustion action.

Bring it, AG. Imma scrape Julie off the street, cash in on the doll parts black market, and bail my man out of jail.

In the meantime, you people need to drop me a quick note (properly capitalized and punctuated and with excellent grammatical construction) with your ideas for fund-raising.

PS --Yo, American Girl? I want an exploding Pinto wagon. You owe me this.