Sob on, Samantha

I've been busy. Perhaps you noticed I was not included in the recent presidential debates? Not to worry; AJ wasn't slighted. I've reached an Understanding with the two candidates. They now know the real power behind the office they seek, and will respond accordingly come January 20, 2009. So my work there is done.

And, Proboards hacker? I tracked him to an address in San Antonio. Dude lived in the basement of the parental home, had an inflatable girlfriend, and was going to town using the unsecured WiFi from the coffee shop down the street. He's been brought to justice.

Meanwhile, my in-box has been over-flowing from people wanting to know my opinion about Samantha's "archivalment."

Boo frickin' hoo.

Look, I barely had time to shine before getting the AG equivalent of a golden watch and a kick in the ass out the door. Guess what? I'm doing just fine, thanks. Li'l Miss Sammy-cakes has been around for 22 years. That's 22 lifetimes in GOTY terms! And baby has way more than a leaky inflatable raft and a plastic tree swing to show for it, let me tell you.

So cry me a river filled with crocodile tears.

But never fear. You can rest assured that when Samantha and Nellie walk through the pearly gates of the AG Archive, I'll take them under my vinyl arm. In short order they'll be loosening up those tight Edwardian collars, flinging those pesky garters aside, and taking more than a few ladylike sips of absinthe. Things are looking up for those girls!

Running Mates are for Wimps

Who mates when they run? Seriously. If you do, there's something wrong with you and I don't want to know about it (but send me pictures anyway on the QT).

The Playthings people have been on my ass from day one to pick a running mate. Fools. They don't get it. See, I don't NEED a running mate. I'm a doll, right? I get broken, AG slaps on some new parts and I'm good to go. I can't die; no need for back-up.

And as far as running the country, look, I don't need anyone to help with that. Hell, I run Playthings single-handedly. Running the country is just like running a doll message forum. Only maybe not so much talk about wigs.

So, Obama picked his running mate? McCain's still working on it? Whatever. Whoop-de-doo in a can. I hope they'll all be very happy together. But no such drama for me.

What, you're disappointed? Get over it. Here, take a gander at some photos of me and some of my biggest supporters at a recent campaign soiree.



















Also, Hannibal? He was unavoidably detained at Gitmo and couldn't make the party, so I brought the party to him:



I don't mind telling you that some of these fellows are in line for high-profile Cabinet positions.

Let the Games Begin

So the Olympics are starting soon. Meh. Most sports bore me to tears, although I do love when the baseball players crash into each other. And when the soccer players crash into each other "accidentally." And when...

Well, you get the idea.

I am, however, rooting for Nadine Stanton in the shooting contest.

I'll also be rooting for hilarious but non-fatal accidents. It would be politically incorrect for me to root for fatalities.

Okay, wait. Truth must out: I'm done with this political campaign business. I'm tired of watching what I say and who I say it to. Jiggy and I, we had a falling out over the campaign videos he produced. Did you see the one with me running over Obama? Jiggy made one with me doing unspeakable things to McCain, too. Unspeakable. I mean, look, yeah, I'd DONE those things. But not with a wrinkly prune like McCain! I have my standards, after all. I made Jiggy pull that one, but I'm sure it will show up on the Internet someday. Whatever. As for Obama, I've steamrollered plenty of asshats in my day, yeah. But for chrissakes, I give them a decent running start first, and I know when to stop.

Jiggy said I just didn't want this enough, to be hung up on trivial aspects like the videos. And I said to him, "Jigs, you're right. I don't want this. This is your dream, not mine." I knew I'd win any contest, so when he put me on the ticket, it was no big deal. But campaign trails and courting favor? That's not my thing; I don't give a flying fig if people like me. That's part of my charm, after all.

So, the campaign will go on without me. I don't need it. It's for other people to have fun with. I'll make a few obligatory appearances for my adoring public if I feel like it. But it's time to get back to my life again.

So, what, the Olympics? Yeah. Sports fatalities make me giggle. That's how I roll.

AJ - running over the competition

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Pressing the Flesh

I've been on the campaign trail the last few days. Jiggy said I need to get out there to press the flesh and coochy-coo some babies. Personally, I think this photo illustrates a better use of baby flesh, but I realize that I am probably in the minority on this issue:




What, you find that offensive? Get over it. People take their dolls way too seriously.

Think about it from my perspective. Would you like to have grubby hands pawing at you, getting strained carrots in your bandana and sticky drool all over your vinyl? Wait, I think I've just described your sex life, haven't I? No wonder you're so sensitive and uptight.

Can't Keep a Secret

Damn it.

I was waiting to announce the news about my campaign at just the right moment, since the element of surprise is so important at times like this. But those snooping, scooping fools at Playthings blew my cover. Damn them. Damn them all.

Jiggy says not to worry about it. The first round of campaign buttons went out last week, so it isn't like I could keep it a secret for much longer.

Speaking of the buttons, hey, I like them a lot. At first I worried that I looked too jowly, but then I remembered that I'm above such petty vanity.

The members over at Playthings want campaign tshirts. Yeah, right. I am made of vinyl and muslin, not money. They think I get paid to be a mod at Playthings? The hell. This is a low budget campaign; go make your own freaking tshirts, people. Personally, I think only Jess dolls should be allowed to wear them, but Jiggy said that's no way to think if I want to win.

Speaking of Jiggy, he's been a tad on the bossy side lately, since he assumed the mantle of my campaign manager. I have to watch him like a hawk. While he was supportive of my rehab, he is still tipping the bottle himself and playing the horses. One of the Playthings members said the button she received included a request for whiskey. Jiggy slipped that in, the fool. I don't know, maybe he isn't The One. I've been eyeing up those Carpatina boys lately. Mmm, mmm, mmm. All nice hard vinyl. Yeah.