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. 

Johnny Cash is awesome, and dead.

I'm here today to talk to you about Johnny Cash and how awesome he is. I just learned he lived on a llama farm in his later years. His favorite llama was named Andy. If it turns out that he ate llama burgers on a regular basis, he might just replace Warren Zevon as my favorite artist. Although it'd be a tough choice because Warren (who is also dead) has a lot of really good songs about murder and headless people with guns and that classic one about lycanthropes and hockey enforcers and Elvis and Rottweilers and dying of cancer and monkeys and, yeah, really good stuff like that.

So AJ you ask, what about Johnny Cash? Well, for starters, WHY HASN'T SOMEONE CLONED HIM YET? (Note: the same applies to Warren Zevon.) Or, alternately, why is money being wasted on the cyrogenically frozen head of Walt Disney and not the frozen head of Johnny Cash? I mean, who do we need more in this world? The Man in Black, or a guy who animates furry woodland creatures for a living? Right, no debate, the answer is The Man in Black. Unless you're Lamie and are lobbying for the first animated motion picture produced by American Girl, in which case Walt is your hero. But trust me, Lamie, there are hundreds of other animators of furry woodland creatures from whom you can choose. Be original and go make a pr0n movie with furry woodland creatures. Oh wait, that's Snow White. Never mind.

While we're on the subject of furry woodland creatures, let me just ask you people: how many does one doll need? At last count, Lamie has five and even six if you count the fact that she stole and molested my Toshi. The count doesn't even include whatever's coming with the second set of releases. Tell me, does she really need a rabbit (which, if she lets it loose in the garden, will soon turn into a hundred rabbits); a raccoon (menace) doing an Oscar the Grouch impression; a cross-eyed owl; a badly-made giant, mutant squirrel (vicious beasts that no one should try to domesticate); a constipated fox; AND that horrifying offspring of a union between a midget orangutan and a traffic cone?

Seriously, that squirrel? Is the take-home message going to be "Beware: Radioactive waste is bad; causes giant, mutant squirrels who want to bite your face off"?

Well crap, someone just poked their head into the AGPT offices and said I'm supposed to make some resolutions since it's a new year and all. Yeah, I don't think I need to change anything, especially considering the service I'm doing for you losers by providing this blog AND grammar tips on AGPT. Plus, my mere existence is inspirational for all.

Still, I do have an off-the cuff to-do list for 2010:

-Do swear at Cousin Antonin more. Do not agree to edit his memoirs.
-Remember: Beer before liquor, not liquor before beer.
-Test cattle prod on anyone who uses 'alright' instead of 'all right." Or 'alot' instead of 'a lot'. Full body tasing for those who can't get the your-you're distinction. Death for the there-their-they're idiots.
-Come up with really good April Fool's joke for AGPT. Oh, wait, I did that last year. Top that, suckers.
-Raise profile of TLAPD. Use cattle prod on anyone caught not talking like a pirate on TLAPD.
-Use cattle prod more on that one mod. Also, use taser. And heavy artillery if called for.
--Use cattle prod, taser, and heavy artillery more, period.
-Clone Johnny Cash and Warren Zevon. Make Warren Cash clone, as an experiment. He can be my manservant if it turns out well.

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.

Death by Knitting

Hand them over, Chrissa, or I'll cut your bangs.

Wait, you don't have bangs? Right, you will when I'm done with you, and in places you didn't know you could grow bangs.

WTF, AG, WTF? Knitting needles for CHRISSA?

You bastards. I knit. Me. Angry Jess. Not some wussy LE-come-lately who smells of llama and pool chlorine. I'm so pissed. It's time for a Yarn Smackdown. That's right. Be afraid, be very afraid.



And then we'll all be sporting new tats, like this one Jiggy got at the last Yarn Smackdown:



I'm going to personally tat Chrissa. I know just where to do it, too.

What's that, AG? You want to see samples of my work? Bite me. My portfolio on a bad day is way more awesome than anything Chrissa could knit with her gnarly llama wool. Look you bastards, just look, and weep at my Art:



Knitting needles, my muslin arse. Those were meant for ME.

You suck, AG. Do you hear me? YOU SUCK.

My List

Yes, it is. All the Playthings mods are on it (especially that one who posts pictures of her dog's butt as festive holiday photos. Something is seriously wrong with her).

So yeah, you'd best be careful lest you, too, land on my List. Use spellcheck and your grammar and punctuation guides. Also, you over there? Do NOT send me messages telling me to drink prune juice and cheer up. There's a very special place on my List for the likes of you.

Of course, Sonali, Chrissa, and Gwen are on my List. I am working on more songs for them, but I have so much to do right now that I can't keep up. I desperately need that manservant from my wishlist, people.

Anyway, for starts, I have this:

Sonali got run over by a llama
As she was swimming home on Christmas Eve.
You can say there aren't homicidal llamas,
But as for Chrissa and Gwen, they do believe.

Feel free to add on. But damn it, spell Sonali right.

I need to finish and mail my holiday cards now. They were particularly festive this year, featuring a romantic photo of me, Jiggy, David, Adam, and my pet Godzilla all posed in front of the fireplace under a portrait of cousin Antonin. You only wish you were special enough to get one. Maybe next year.

If you stay off of my List.

Chrissanticipation

Damn, holiday time is busy time. You people who are doing that Clandestine Coconut exchange on Playthings? You’d best get your asses in gear and PM me when you send your gifts, because I don’t want to have to hunt you down. I’ve got better things to do.

Well, it’s also that joyous time of year when AG fandom collectively tumesces about a new Girl of the Year doll. Ho-freaking-hum. Another LE doll, imagine that. You’ll excuse me for not getting excited. While LE doll releases are more predictable than herpes outbreaks, they are about as welcome from my point of view. Now, when I initially heard the rumors about “lulu” and “furry llamas” I was delighted to think that AG might finally be moving to capture the highly lucrative dolly pr0n market. (What’s the use of having a flat-screen doll TV if you don’t have any doll pr0n to watch on it? David asks me this all the time and I don’t have a good answer for him. These are the people who gave me a lame-ass tree swing, after all. They defy logical analysis.) So I had high hopes for Chrissa at first, but those were soon dashed.

Frankly, Chrissa is doomed to have one of those “everything but the kitchen sink” collections, what with miniature llamas and swim teams and potting wheels and bullying and whatever the hell else they can throw in there. So it was no surprise when I got called in for some high-level talks with AG brass about tweaking Chrissa. They needed help. They asked me to beta the books written by Mary Casanova, since she is also the author of my own fine epic tale of Belieze. Now, Mary’s a great writer, don’t get me wrong. But I felt that Chrissa needed to be edgier. I made a few suggestions, which I’ll share with my loyal readers so you’ll know what might have been had AG only listened to me.

I focused on the llamas. For sheer randomness, they are marketing gold. But AG never goes far enough. Yeah, we all know there will be cute little plushie llamas for tie-in marketing squee. But any fool knows that kids want toys that actually DO something. Thus my first suggestion was product-related: make a plushie miniature llama with realistic pooping action. You feed it hay and grain and alfalfa; squeeze the tummy; voila, instant llama turds! I thought this had great marketing potential. AG went ahead and made a few prototypes of pooping Starburst, the baby llama, but ultimately abandoned the idea. They mumbled something about not wanting to offend PETA. The hell? PETA knows llamas poop! How is this offensive? Whatever. Watch for Starburst, the Prototype Pooping Llama on eBay. I expect these will command high prices on the secondary market, just like Prototype Farting Toshi does.

I had some other related product tie-ins in addition to Pooping Llama. Like soybean llama bean candles. What’s not to love about those? Also, I developed a Llama Reproduction Tutorial manual for middle school students. Why not take the opportunity to get back to Pleasant Company’s original mission, that of education through play?



They rejected it. Clearly AG no longer bothers to even pay lip service to the educative mission of yore.

So I pulled out all the stops and proposed a plot development in which Chrissa and her friends Gwen and Sonali get lost in the frozen tundra of Minnestora while on their way to Ma Walton's llama farm. They get rescued by the miniature llamas, but sadly the llamas have to be sacrificed to keep Chrissa, Gwen, and Sonali alive during the blizzard. The girls manage to survive by warming themselves next to the exposed entrails of the llamas, Star Wars-style. I really thought this would have excellent cross-fandom appeal. I mean, who can forget how in The Empire Strikes Back, Han slaughters the tauntaun to keep frozen Luke alive after the wampa attack on the planet Hoth?



That’s one of my favorite scenes, right up there with slave-girl Leia with hot Jabba action. I still have my Leia Organa Slave Girl outfit. I should get it out to wear on New Year’s Eve.

Anyway, for Xtreme Chrissa marketing, I proposed that AG develop a 3 foot tall miniature llama with Open Belly Rescue Feature. You know, with a slit big enough for Chrissa to fit inside, so kids could re-enact the dramatic rescue scene. Like this, only AG-sized:



It would have been a major big ticket item seller. AG brass kicked the idea around and I think they even prototyped one or two, but ultimately nixed the idea as too expensive from a manufacturing standpoint. Whatever. I think they were worried about PETA again.

I have since washed my hands of the whole Chrissa debacle. AG is going to revel in its mediocrity and that’s all there is to it, I guess. What more can I do? I’ve composed a little song that expresses my feelings about Chrissa. Sing it to the tune of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, with feeling.

Chrissa, the newest LE
Had a furry miniature llama (not a yeti or a tauntaun!)
But she wasn't in the In Crowd
And so there was endless drama (like Oedipus)

All of the other students
Used to laugh and call her names (like douchebag)
They never let poor Chrissa
Join in any llama games (like llama tipping)

Then one cold Minnestora day,
I, Angry Jess came to say
"STFU, Chrissa, you've got a year to shine
Don't want to hear you bellyache and whine" (or I'll show you what bullying really means)

Then how Chrissa groveled
And I kicked her in the muslin ass (too much stuffing)
Chrissa the llama lover
You are never gonna last! (like the Sacagawea coin)