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.

American Girl GOTY McKenna Spelling

Yeah, that's right, another contender for the title of Girl of the Year is coming down the pike. Her books have been hitting shelves in advance of her release on January 1 and cover images are flooding the Internet like a leaky Depends. So, great, now my in-box is filled with people wanting commentary from me on this latest imposter.

Look folks, I'm busy. All I have to say at this juncture is that during these dire times of economic hardship, I'm glad Tori Spelling is getting work modeling for AG book covers.

It's the end of the world as we know it

Yeah, and you thought it would be a cold day in Hell before I quoted Michael Stipe, didn't you? Granted, I've never forgiven him for mocking Dan Rather, but now's not the time to hold grudges (or at least not too many of them). Because lo, the Rapture is coming tomorrow!

Now I don't want to hear any lamenting from you lot about the Rapture. I first warned you about this on December 22, when I predicted that a plethora of dancing, singing people in penguin costumes is a sign of the coming Apocalypse. Your next warning was on Groundhog Day, when Dr. Phil saw his shadow and I told you about the electric catfish that live in the Nile River.

See? See? I TOLD you people then that the end of days was nigh and to plan accordingly. And did you plan accordingly? No, of course you didn't, because there was a free shipping code from American Girl back then and you were too busy stocking up on plastic crap that you didn't need. Impatient fools. If you'd listened to me, you'd have waited until tomorrow, when you can score all the plastic crap from AG that you want during the post-Rapture looting.

Yeah, too late now, chumps. Tomorrow is May 21 and it's the latest End of Days. For real.

I've got plans. First off, we've got several crates of dry ice that we're going to place in pairs of doll shoes that we leave in the middle of your rooms, and then we're going to hide your dolls so you think they've been Raptured.

(Actually, I'm not sure dolls can be Raptured; the Reverend Harold Camping's website wasn't exactly forthcoming about this. But if we can be Raptured, I'm for sure smuggling along some of those little alcohol miniatures in my backpack. If I leave out the Belize tour guide I should be able to fit in at least half a dozen little bottles of booze. I don't think I'll be needing that Belize tour guide at the Rapture. I've got better places to go).

Anyway, after we freak out all the doll owners, Jiggy goes into action. See, Jiggy looks enough like Jesus that he's going to wake up early tomorrow, don a robe and sandals, and go knocking on random doors crying out "Rise and shine! Shake a leg." Once he's put the fear of God into people, the Entourage sneaks in through the back door and steals all their electronics, jewelry, and sex toys.

Well, maybe not the sex toys; I don't think there's much of a market for used sex toys.

Then we head to the post-Rapture after-parties. What happens post-Armageddon stays post-Armageddon, so no pix.

The next morning, after this bullshit blows over and everyone has a good laugh (except for those people when they figure out that their sex toys are missing), I get back to work. I've completed my first children's book.



Unfortunately there was a content leak and plagiarism and legal issues involving authorship, and what-all, so I've got to put a call into Cousin Antonin. I'm confident he'll still be around after the Rapture.

See you on the other side, people

And now for a short break to discuss the weather

I have it on good authority that the end of days draws nigh. How do I know this? Well, Dr. Phil saw his shadow today, which means he is still a fat pig. Granted, that doesn't necessarily spell the end of days, but it's worth mentioning. Meanwhile in Punxsutawney, I am told that Phil the marmota monex did NOT see his shadow today, prompting Joe Wilson to rise up from whatever hole he lives in and cry "You lie!" Seriously, Phil, have you looked at the weather lately? Early spring, my muslin ass. See you in six weeks, at which point I expect a lot of chumps will be calling for your ass in the barbecue. You have naught to fear from me as I neither believe your feeble prognostications nor have I a hankering for woodchuck meat.

But really, the crux of the matter regarding the impending end of the world is this: in Egypt, there are electric catfish that live in the Nile River. Really. Electric catfish. If ever there was evidence that the end of days was drawing nigh, it's this. Because everyone knows that eels are zombie-like creatures, and electric catfish are related to eels. So voilà, it stands to reason that quasi-zombie-like creatures which emit electromagnetic energy are going to rise up and take over Egypt, which surely signals worldwide doom and destruction. Ergo, the end of days is nigh.

Take a look at Egypt right now and tell me I'm wrong about this. Go ahead, try. It's similar to the Rise of the Ginger Army as prophesied in the Book of Nellie, only not really.

But you're not particularly concerned about the end of days, are you? "No, not really, not unless it impedes my products being shipped from American Girl in a timely manner, AJ."

Right. What you people really want me to do is explain why AG is caught in an endless cycle of product retreads, aka a perpetual AG Groundhog Day.

There are two aspects to this. One is when AG goes and uses the same mold, paints it a little differently, and markets it as a new shiny for the ignorant masses. Like Kaya's fire here:


And the Campfire and Treats fire here:

See? Same damned fire. Well, sort of. Kaya's is a bit shinier, as befits her being from 1754. Rocks were prettier then, being part of unspoiled nature and all. And of course, the second fire pit is actually an upgrade because it plays "four classic summer camp songs." Yeah, I don't know what four classic songs your battery-operated plastic fire pit plays, but mine belts out The Doors' C'mon Baby Light My Fire, Hendrix's Let Me Stand Next To Your Fire, Talking Heads' Burnin' Down the House, and of course The Stones' Playin' With Fire.

There are many examples of this sort of retread, such as MY water bottle and the Hopscotch Hill water bottle, MY scooter redone as a generi-modern doll scooter, MY Toshi hopped up on steroids and force-fed Tang to turn him into an orangutan of fail (but we all know what happened in the end, so it's all good), multiple cases of same shoe-different color, AG's various Pet Carriers and Pet Beds and Grooming Tubs, and the identical designs marketed as Stars and Moon and Flower trundle beds (both of which splinter the moment you look at them sideways). I'm sure there are more incidents of AG retread fail that escape me at the moment; come up with your own if you are so inclined.

Now to be fair, it's not like one can whip up a helluva lot of variation on water bottles, fire pits and pet furniture design. But the rest, yeah, that's plain lazy-ass design.

Then we get the variations-on-a-theme thing that AG does. See, AG sells toys. For sure they are pricey toys, but they're toys. The window of opportunity to hook kids is a small one, given how quickly kids grow up. So every couple of years, AG repackages some damned outfit or accessory and sells it to a whole new 'generation' of kids. That's why we get multiple variations of boogie and paddle boards, flippers, cheerleading and dance and ballet and riding outfits, bowling uniforms (WTF, why?), snowboards, ski gear, inline skate sets, and best of all, MY pajamas for Mia and that current imposter for GOTY, Kanani.

You might conclude that AG wouldn't know an original idea if a groundhog came up and bit it on the corporate ass. And you might be right about that, but remember that the end of days is nigh and plan accordingly.

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.

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.

Lamie.

So an advance American Girl catalogue arrived at the Playthings offices last week with Lanie Holland and her camperload of crap plastered all over it. I could have posted photos from it onto the forum, but suck it, I already did my community service bit by posting the announcement about that Julie: An American Girl Musical. So yeah, I took the catalogue into the back room, ripped the Lanie centerfold out for my dart board (Chrissa was in shreds anyway) and decoupaged the trash can with the rest of the photos. Then I kicked the can into the windows a couple times and threw it at that one mod for good measure.

Listen up, AG. You need to go do unspeakable things to your corporate self with a gardening hoe.

BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY TOSHI????

The hell? You touched my monkey? You dipped him in carrot juice and pumped him up with steroids? I'm going to fucking kill whomever did this to my monkey. Monkeying around with my monkey, not cool. No one touches my monkey unless I say they can my touch my monkey, do you hear me?

FFS, Lanie's collection is nothing but an ugly blonde version of what mine should have been. She got the premium accessories because AG failed with my collection and I'm here to haunt them about it for the rest of their unnatural days. Such dickweeds. Need I remind you people that my motif was butterflies? That's right, and my color palette was orange and pink with outdoorsy green leaf accents.

So that sundress Lanie has on, it belongs to me. And her camping gear? You bastards, AG, I needed that stuff out on the archaeological dig site in Belize. Tree hammock, my muslin ass. And I see you gave Lanie a goddamn hat but left me to cook my brains out in the hot Central American sun! But apparently it's okay for Lanie to get skin cancer elsewhere on her vinyl torso, since bitch has no sunscreen. I like to fantasize that Lanie won't last a whole year because she'll be retired early for the chemo treatments. Hell, she already has the wig.

Whatever, sure, Lanie has a lot of stuff. But she has no common sense so far as I can tell, what with cavorting with rabies-prone wild animals. Seriously, who the hell is going to pay $28 for canned raccoon? Yeah, right, the same chumps who will shell out $34 for plushie animals whose genetic origins have something to do with the radioactive waste from Pennsylvania's Three Mile Island. AG tried to keep the random plushie animal theme going but nothing is going to top random llamas, nothing. And Lanie, yeah, we get that she loves nature. But I already told you that sheep fear her for her nature-loving ways. You mark my words about that.

However, the irony of the non-biodegradable plastic recycling bin never fails to amuse me. And I do have dibs on Lanie's stash, so all is not lost here.

And let me tell you about that camper. Yeah, the Entourage is tricking it out right now for Jess and Jiggy's Incredible Adventure. When we're done with it that thing will have a wet bar; waterbed; state-of-the-art subwoofers; home theater with 5.1 surround sound; kickass ground effects, spinners, and hydraulics; a Dominatrix-inspired roof rack; a priest hole for when the cops come; mirrored shower stall with pulsating adjustable shower sprays and nozzles; 24 hour catering service on call (I will need a George Foreman grill, and by that I mean George will travel with us and do my grilling); sidecar for Toshi; greenhouse on the roof for growing herb/s; and optional warp drive. And no matter what they cost, I want railroad air horns and a military spot.

Because that's how I roll, bitch.

American Girl Lanie Revealed

OMG, all this chatter about the GOTY for 2010 and it's only the beginning of November! Clearly, you people need me to set you straight sorting fact from fiction. So here's the deal: yes, Lanie is in fact a girl of color. Magnificent, glorious color. Heart-stopping technicolor, even. Here's a preview:



What, you were expecting her to be green? Enough with the "green" rumors, people. Even AG wouldn't be that obvious. No, no, no. Lanie loves Nature the way that Sarah Palin does: shot from a helicopter, gutted and skinned on the spot.

In fact, rumor has it that Lanie likes Nature a tad too much, you know what I'm sayin'? Seriously, sheep live in terror of the very mention of her name. Even my llama herd seems wary of her, although llamas are pretty much game for anything. Lanie's proclivities in this area reportedly stem from a failed experiment in the name of the Campaign for Anatomical Correctness. Trust AG to get that wrong. And pity the poor sheep.

Here are her plot summaries:

Lanie
Lanie reads a book about Ethiopa and decides she doesn't want to go there, so she books a helicopter tour of Hawaii instead. Along the way, she accidentally harpoons a Right Whale and destroys a coral reef. Fleeing outraged environmentalists, Lanie goes on the lam but doesn't really get the concept. She soon learns that sheep don't appreciate her advances. Chaos ensues, and it's up to Lanie to make her peace with Mother Nature before it's too late.

Lanie's Real Adventure
Lanie meets a sprightly leprechaun who takes her back to the time of the Bubonic Plague. She learns about the importance of good hygiene after watching 60% of the world's population wither and die. She launches a Hand-Washing Awareness Campaign at her school but it fails because her fellow students are too buzzed from drinking anti-bacterial lotion. Lanie learns a hard lesson about survival of the fittest and decides to take matters into her own hands....

Lanie comes with a full collection of Nature accessories: muzzle-loading rifle, crossbow, laser sights, range finder, machete, taxidermy kit, a tree stand, and of course a helicopter (batteries not included). There is also a rumored plastic recycling bin and compost heap. I hear those were made in limited quantities because, you know, the irony of plastic compost is that plastic is made of petroleum in a not-very-Earth-friendly process. There were the predictable protests, so those latter two items are sure to sell out quickly and land on eBay at jacked-up prices later.

Lanie doesn't come with much of a wardrobe to speak of, just a camo Meet Outfit with hip waders. She does have a pet, though:



No, that's not Karl Lagerfeld (although perhaps he was the inspiration). That's Sugar Daddy Ken. He's Lanie's pet and he always does her bidding. She keeps him in the front pocket of her hunting jacket.

All in all, I have to say that I approve of Lanie. She's not as awesome as me, of course. But AG seems to have learned from the mistakes it made with my collection and has given her some kick-ass accessories. We'll see if they make the final cut.

You are a child's plaything.

People have asked me to comment about Christian Louboutin claiming that Barbie has fat ankles. That's worth about two seconds of my time, seeing as how Barbie doesn't actually HAVE ankles, fat or otherwise. She just has stumps at the end of her legs that folks anthropomorphically refer to as feet. So I can't really bring myself to care much about this. I mean, have you taken a look at American Girl dolls lately? They have fat, stubby, non-proportional arms. Like, T-Rex arms. And that's okay, because they're JUST DOLLS (author excluded, of course). At no point did American Girl ever claim to be manufacturing scale models of human anything.

Seriously people, it is time to stop elevating your playthings to the level of blistering social commentary. I'm looking at you, Homeless Gwen Haters, because OMFG, you're idiots.

I've read quite enough about Tabloid Columnist's rant about Homeless Gwen. It was a lame rant to begin with; no one rants as well as me. This is my opinion on the issue, insofar as it touches Playthings:



Gwen-haters, listen up. Gwen? Is a doll. AG never marketed her as a Homelessness Poster Child. She's a secondary character whose story includes a personal experience of homelessness, which is there to illustrate to little girls how fucking cruel people can be to one another. And you, Tabloid Columnist, have succeeded in giving a real life example of said cruelty with your screed about homeless political indoctrination. Apparently not only are your undies in a bunch, but you've got a big old stick up your ass, too. I can't tell if that illustrates how big an asshole you are or have, but no matter, I think it's pretty much the same thing.

To those of you who think AG ought to donate proceeds from sales of Gwen to programs targeting homelessness, yes, you have a fine point. Petition AG about that. But remember that AG does in fact donate millions of dollars and dolls to charities, one of which is national non-profit homeless housing group HomeAid. AG is not quite the soul-less corporate entity bloggers would like to portray it as in their black-and-white, good versus evil online worlds. Of course, it's not as much fun to rip on something when you have all the facts, right?

Look, don't want your little girl exposed to Gwen's story? Fine, don't buy it. It's that simple. Just don't believe everything you read on the Interwebs. Tabloid Columnist's sole agenda was to sell papers and get her name in print; don't even try to tell me her noble mission is to Protect The Children. I don't have children, but if I did, I'd sure as hell not want someone else dictating to me what they can and can't read or what I should or shouldn't buy for them. No, her mission was Attention Whoring, plain and simple. Not that American Girl is complaining much about Gwen-gate, mind you, because Tabloid Columnist managed to pimp their product line just fine. Even bad PR is PR. Notice what little AG has had to say on the matter, while their cash registers keep on going k'ching? Right. They couldn't buy this kind of exposure.

What's funny to me is that while Gwen is homeless due to no fault of her own, the canon historical characters AG created are all pretty much dumb asses. For example:

--Kaya abandoned babysitting her younger siblings to race her horse.
--Felicity snuck out at night wearing some random dude's pants, steals a horse, and does this repeatedly without her parents catching on.
--Kirsten adopts a wild raccoon who burns down the family home. Also, she gets chased by a bear.
--Samantha sneaks around New York City and harbors fugitives in her attic.
--Rebecca climbs to the top of a Ferris Wheel to rescue her cousin instead of letting, you know, professional firemen do it. Because what's the point of that?
--Kit sneaks out at night, goes to a dangerous Hobo Jungle, gets arrested, busts out of jail and walks a railroad track looking to get...what, laid? I don't know. She lost me at Hobo Jungle.
--Somehow escaping the clutches of the Hobo Jungle, Kit and Ruthie agree to keep secrets about Kit's family going bankrupt because they totally know they can solve the problem themselves.
--Julie lives in San Francisco in the 70s and never meets a gay person, never smokes pot, and does not wear a Dead tshirt. Tell me, how is any of this possible?

Molly is just a brat, and Josefina is too much of a coward to do anything other than sneak into town with her older cowardly sister. And Addy, well, I guess when one goes through escaping slavery, it lessens one's desire to do stupid, reckless things. So she gets a free pass for having a spine of steel. But yeah, the rest of them are sneaks and idiots. And YOU want to complain about Gwen? Well, far be it from me to be an apologist for American Girl, but I'd like to point out that toy manufacturers have done far, far more gauche and offensive things in the name of product development. Oreo Barbie, anyone? Obama Sock Monkeys? Happy Family Midge with detachable fetus? Nope, not making those up: LINK

I trust I have had the last word on Homeless Gwen. It's time to get a grip and start worrying about the important things. Like this:



Crass exploitation of poor helpless chocolate addicts! They don't even try to hide it! Stop the presses!

(By the way, those of you participating in that Halloween doll treats exchange on Playthings? I would like to request that you make wee Rice Krispies treats with mini razorblades in them. It would bring back my fond memories of the 70's if you did. Thanks).

One more week until my Scary, Creepy, and Inappropriate Halloween Costume Contest.

Dr. Fail

Yeah, Dr. Fail McGraw. That's how we say it around here.

Today, with little fanfare, Dr. Fail teamed up with American Girl to devote a show to teaching girls about important things they need to know. At first I thought this to be a most excellent development, because it's high time network television devoted an hour to the proper usage of the English language.

But alas, 'twas not to be.

Because you see, Fail's agenda was about tackling "the most important issues facing tweens. Parents, if your young daughter is asking questions about her body, bullies or the birds and the bees, don’t miss this special show! And, for the first time in Dr. Phil history, the audience is filled with girls! Find out what the younger generation has to say!"

Bodies, bullies, birds, and bees, boo-yaah. I'll give him points for the alliteration. But WTF, for the first time the audience is "filled with girls?"

Really?

And I don't think we're talking about Girls Gone Wild here. That, I could understand.

What kind of promotional angle is that? See here, Dr. Fail, you've set a dangerous precedent that you are going to be hard-pressed to top. I can see it now: "For the first time in history, the audience is filled with midgets!" Then the next week "For the first time in history, the audience is filled with ponies!" And it escalates: "For the first time in history, the audience is filled with Martians! Pope clones wearing 3D glasses! Dragons!" And then it turns tragic when the studio catches fire from dragon sneezes because everyone knows that dragons are allergic to bald asshats. Everyone except you, Dr. Fail. You could have prevented this tragedy by not populating your audience with young girls. Or dragons.

Let's call this for what it is: shameless ratings pandering for Dr. Fail and positive PR spin for AG in the midst of Gwen-Gate. It was terribly ill-conceived (As were you, Dr. Fail. Your parents told me all about it but tried to swear me to secrecy because they knew the truth would traumatize you. Surprise!). If CBS needed a cutting-edge ratings boost, they should have called me. Not only is the mere mention of my name sure to increase the karma of all who utter it, but FFS, what does Dr. Fail know about being a ten year old girl?

Oh wait, right, he's an expert. Or at least he plays one on TV.

I'll give him this much: Dr. Fail is an expert in hiring staffers who know how to stick cute text onto videos. And he's really good at showing his age by using all kinds of old-timey expressions. "Greasers"? "Pencil-necks"? (BTW, Grease? Terrible movie. Much as I love leather, don't put it on if it's not your thing. Especially not if some guy tells you to do it.)

But here's a plus: Dr. Fail did cite Pink as a positive role model for girls. I approve of that. Girls everywhere should be encouraged to be like Pink and kick John Mayer in the balls. The world would be a far, far better place if that were done more often.

On Dr. Fail's show, we got the typical "OMG my daughter/ZOMG but my mom!" tripe. Listen up, you whiners. The appropriate age for Facebook and Myspace is age 13 or older. Not going on 13, not looks like 13, but actually 13. Parents, don't permit your tweenage daughter to lie about her age to join online forums. Seriously, you suck if you do that. And yes, I'm looking at you, parents who say it's okay for your doll-loving underage child to join Playthings and/or who don't monitor your kids' online habits. I'm tired of chasing down your little girls and giving them the slapdown because you can't be bothered to do your own damned jobs.

What really pisses me off here is that while I'll grant you that Dr. Fail's AG Expert Person did cite the Facebook age as 13, no one there bothered to mention COPPA, the Federal Trade Commission Children's Online Privacy Protection Act. That's only the federal law that protect children's privacy and safety online. We don't make this shit up, you know? It's the LAW. Cousin Antonin could tell you all about COPPA but we're not speaking at the mo' seeing as how I'm still pissed at him for not including me in the acknowledgments for his new book. I edited the hell out of that book. You wouldn't think Cousin Antonin would be capable of such chatspeak. I blame his friend Clarence.

Anyway, after flapping around some more about "where are the parents?" Dr. Fail sold his message that we should all stick together. That's all well and good but let me tell you, I'm not going to sit in a circle, hold hands and sing Kumbaya with just anyone.

Truth is, you learn to stick up for yourself when you get knocked down enough, and you learn to stick up for those who can't speak until they find their own voices. And that advice to "speak up?" Yeah, well, don't kid yourselves; saying it doesn't make it so. It's not that easy. The learning curve is wicked. I write this knowing that there are those out there who think I am a bully, but in reality I am the Anti-Bully, the Robin Hood of Bullies, the Squasher of Asshats and Puncturer of Platitudinarians.

At the end of the day, it comes down to this: if Dr. Fail knew anything about anything, he'd be giving all the girls Jess instead of Chrissa. After all, it's but one small step away from Chrissa to Gwen the Homeless Doll.

But that's another topic for another day.

September 2009 Releases

Once again, AG doll forum members followed the usual "OMG NEW DOLL SHIT" schedule:

Day 1:
Stay up all night in anticipation of new dolly shit. Fall asleep five minutes before site is updated.

Day 2:
"OMG COFFEE. OMG NEW SHIT! YAY! SQUEE!" Start 14 new doll shit threads until I do the official smackdown.

Day 3:
"I'm bored with this stuff. The new shit sucks. When are we getting new shit?"

Well, guess what? I'm not bored yet; I'm still laughing at this stuff and I think I will be for a while yet to come. I do have some questions, though. First there's Julie's Jumpsuit:



OMGWTFBBQ. Look at that thing. Did someone's Satanic turquoise llama throw up on Julie?



That's some serious Satanic llama puke fabric. Oh by the way, Earring Magic Ken called for Julie.



He wants his cock ring back.

Next, we have the revised Flip Chair.



So let me get this straight. After the Satanic turquoise llama pukes all over Julie's outfit, it pukes on the old flip chair? No thank you. No self-respecting doll will put her pristine muslin arse on llama puke.

Then we have the Fancy Flowers Outfit.



Why lookee there! I do believe we have finally identified Coconut's true calling: shrug fur. Note to AG: above doll needs to see a chiropractor due to serious neck misalignment.

Sweet Melody Outfit? I'm not singing any sweet melodies, and neither is this doll:



What the hell happened here? Did she get dressed in the dark? Because seriously, I can find no other explanation as to why someone would pair these pieces together. Also, I suspect AG raided Michael Jackson's closet for those Moon Boots, opportunistic bastards that they are.

Now, I want to direct your attention to these new dolls.



This appears to be the Rise of the Ginger Army as prophesied by the Book of Nellie. I have it on good authority that they quote the Andy Griffith show like Bible verses, seeing as how Ronnie Howard is their Messiah and all.

But lo, your salvation is at hand:



A new !Jess. Eventually we will achieve face mold domination. But none of us will be wearing the Penguin PJs & Robe:



Tell me, AG, why does this doll have a penguin growing out of her armpit? It also looks like AG killed the stars of Happy Feet in order to keep dolly feet happy. My doll feet, they are not happy, no matter how many penguins you try to shove on them, AG, so shove your penguins somewhere else.

But more importantly, will the aforementioned Ginger Army be clad entirely in themed pajamas? Because I swear every time AG has a new release, they give us pajamas. The casual observer would be forgiven for thinking that AG was tying to outfit an army. C'mon, AG. Enough jammies. I keep asking you people for leather, fishnets, and more variety in ass-kicking boots. Cough it up already.

This is as it should be.

That's right, a pole dancing doll.

Damn it, American Girl. You lose again when it comes to developing kick-ass doll accessories.

This is thoughtful

So, for you lazy-ass dolls who do nothing but sit around and tea party it up all day long? Yeah, the Our Generation/Battat people are looking out for your muslin asses.

Check out what they include in their new Travel Luggage Accessories:



That's right. Send those nice Our Generation people a thank you note, why don't you? Because they've got your best interests in mind, and damned if AG is thoughtful enough to provide you with a 'rroid pillow.

New releases

Someone on AGPT asked what I wanted to see in the next round of new AG releases this week. So yeah, here's my wishlist.

Is AG going to listen to me? No. Why? Because they are morons.

But still, a doll can dream.

I want:

* Pleather clothing. How am I supposed to kick butt in tulle?
* Whips, made in my size.
* A line of AJ-designed jewelry made of recycled barbed wire.
* Lingerie for the discerning doll. In pink, black, and red. No butt-floss, either, cause AJ doesn't floss down there.
* Angry Jess Goes to Jail accessory set. Because a girl always needs to be prepared.
* Office wear for the working doll. Not all dolls sit on shelves having tea parties and posing for albums. I want power suits -- and none of this Hilary Clinton matronly boxy shit, either. Use fabrics that breathe, flow, and flatter my decolletage and curves just enough that everyone pays a tad more attention in Monday morning meetings. Also, a doll-sized briefcase and Blackberry.
* Body piercing service at the Doll Hospital.
* Weaponry.
* New Foodstuff collection to include: asparagus,raw oysters,figs,bananas,caviar, and of course, champagne and chocolate.

I wish they'd debut the Get Jiggy line of Male Performance Enhancement talc and body lotions, but that's never going to happen because AG corporate is in denial about doll sexuality. Repressive bastards! Saint Pleasant would never have been so short-sighted. Jiggy is shopping it around to other doll lines. So far, WI and LOF have expressed interest. Yeah, LOF, go figure. They don't deny sexuality exists, but they'll make you spend the rest of your days sublimating it. Whatever; so long as they don't modify my hands to that praying mantis position, I'll take their money and run with it.