This is wrong.

It almost makes me feel sorry for Lindsey. It's just not right to sell a girl's cooter right out from under her. I mean, I suppose it speaks to the success of my Campaign for Anatomical Correctness that she even has one to begin with. But damn, this is harsh.

On the other hand, how the hell did someone manage to get hold of Lindsey's cooter to begin with? I'm telling you, this puts those New Jersey black market kidney sale rings to shame. Of course, I'm assuming she didn't give it up voluntarily; even Lindsey wouldn't be that stupid. She and Mr. Tiny were probably kicking it old school style when someone slipped a Mickey into her soda...when she woke up, she'd had an Involuntary Cooterectomy.

And WTF, an asking price of $49.99? Come on, that's humiliating. What price can you put on a cooter? Mine is priceless.

These are strange and perverse times we live in, that's all I can say. Hold onto your cooters, ladies. You never know what can happen.

American Girl Happy Meal Toy

As opposed to, say, a Happy American Boy Toy? Whatever.

The Playthings people are all a'twitter about a rumored American Girl Happy Meal toy coming out next month. Yeah, little do they know. The toy is actually a 5 inch hard-plastic anatomically correct version of ME, complete with bandana, knitting needles, whip, and assorted pre-programmed phrases such as:

"The dictionary is your friend. I'm not."
"Kiss my muslin arse."
"Join the Campaign for Anatomical Correctness. Because vinyl gonads are a terrible thing to waste."
"Two all-llama patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, on a sesame seed bun."
"Scary, creepy and inappropriate? Yeah."

There were more options, but the voice chip was full.

Get there quick; these are sure to sell out.

Cute-mongering

This?



It's for those of you who are filling my message box with rants about how I've been censoring your right to use the word 'cute.' And it's for those of you who've been egging me on with substitute suggestions. Consider it a tool to bring you all together by sharing it to remove your collective undies from your collective butts.

Be nice and share and don't say I never gave you anything. Despite the fact that I am a fighter, not a lover (with all due respect to the late great King of Pop).

Seriously, take heart: my War on Cute has drawn to a close. Not because I've run out of words with which to challenge your hearts, minds, and spirits. Hell no, never that. Truth is, I am headed off with the Entourage to Johnny Depp's private island. Trust me when I say that I will have no time or inclination to expand your vocabularic horizons while there.

Plus, I've made my point thrice over. Cutesy it up all you want, but don't ever forget that there's more than one way to skin a cat.



My work here is done. Close the can.

Cutewrights: Revenge of the C Word

Oh, but aren't you AGPT people addicted to your cute? My, my, my.

Look, if I'd replaced the damned word with something equally banal, no one would have noticed and my efforts to expand vocabularic horizons would be pointless.

I don't do pointless.

So yeah, 'scrumptious' got your attention. Boo-frickin-hoo all you want, but my War on Cute will continue all this week. You'll be the better for it when we're done, trust me.

Oh, and YOU? Stop sending me PMs whining about how mean you think I am. Yeah, I'm mean. I'm also scary, creepy, and inappropriate. Get over it.

Now leave me be. I'm deep into reviewing my Michael Jackson discography and do not wish to be disturbed with further 'cute' withdrawal during my mourning period.

Summertime, and the living is sleazy...

You! Quit with your "But AJ, when are you going to update your blog?" messages already! Haven't you ever heard of summer vacation? I'm hip-deep in coconut oil and margarita salt here. I'll update my blog when I damn well please.

And while I'm at it, pester me not about the Vocabulary Challenge. Proboards is gorked and the search function doesn't work properly, so I have no way of searching to see if you people have used the words. And if you think I am going to read each and every post on AGPT to see if you've done the job properly, you are more delusional that I thought possible. However, I remain distressed that AGPT members are failing to expand their vocabularic horizons when posting. I'm telling you, if I see the word 'cute' used one more time I will take my knitting needles to your dolls' eyeballs. Surely you can find better adjectives? Yeah, wait, I forgot: you're all idiots. Well, fine. Since it is my sworn duty to help the linguistically challenged, I hereby declare war on the word 'cute' at AGPT. You've been warned.

I know you all want to know what I think about Rebecca and her collection. Here's a clue: I haven't spent any time thinking about her. She does not signify. FFS, all you people have cared about for the last month is Rebecca. Is it any wonder that I have been avoiding AGPT? Fine, you want to know what I think about Rebecca? She’s a pest. She’s an Old Testament plague personified. But fear not: I have the solution for this particular plague:



Rebecca Repellent, available at all fine mercantiles.

Rebecca’s collection is right up there in terms of what I’d expect from AG. Which is to say, it pretty much sucks llama fur. Mind you, I can’t begrudge the girl her samovar. But would it kill AG to make something really useful? If they can make a samovar, they can sure as hell make a hookah for the JLY line.



That's right. Doll hookah.

The Movie Dress rivals Samantha's Bridesmaid Dress for Worst Execution of a Book Illustration Ever. Plus, we all know that column dresses are the Fashion Goddesses' way of making flat-chested sisters feel good about themselves. Let me tell you, Rebecca only wishes she could fill out a halter top like I do. Oh, and it seems to me that Rebecca has more than a little bit of a hat fetish going on. Seriously, what's with all the hats? More flat-chested over-compensation, drawing the eye upwards? Then again, given the complaints about Rebecca's thin wig, I'm thinking the hats are necessary because she has alopecia. Becky, honey, embrace the baldness and shave your head already. We all know nothing turns on male libido like a smooth bald AG head. I'm also wondering about the dual purpose of that Meet hat. Can Rebecca pull rabbits out of it? Wait, no, not rabbits. She can use those kittens of hers for the Magic Hat Act...although truth be told by the looks of those kitties, she pulled them out from somewhere else.

Speaking of butts and cats:



Little known fact: Rebecca's bedroom collection is from the Youthful Bordello line, what with the one-piece pantaloons and the fantasy bed. Seriously, can you doubt the inspiration?





She needs a pearl-handled revolver to tuck into her decolletage and she's all ready to play Saloon Girl. I hear that's coming with the holiday releases. Hmmm. Maybe there's some hope for her after all....

Enough about Rebecca. I hereby declare that those AGPT members who have gone above and beyond in services rendered to the collecting community (e.g. by seeking out and sharing scoop, going to stores and taking pictures so people can get their New Release Fixes, and other actions to be rewarded at my discretion) will hereby be inducted into my very own Order of the Llama. Stupid AGPT mods have been coming up with asinine custom titles up until now to recognize people; the non-specific ones will now be replaced. So listen up: if you have some lame-ass custom title you need to PM me and I'll replace it by inducting you into the Order. Note that my Order is not be confused with THESE PEOPLE, who take their llamas very seriously indeed. Me, I just like to eat them. The llamas, that is, not people. I have my standards.

Casting pearls of wisdom before swine

Fickle AG collectors always have a hard-on for the Next Big Doll Thing. Right now it's little miss Rebecca Rubin, circa 1914. Never mind that the doll has nothing more going for her than a nice hat and a New York City Born-and-Bred Superiority Complex. The collectors, they are anticipating her with a zeal that rivals that of the Second Coming of Christ.

Which is delicious irony, considering she is The Jewish Doll and all.

So yeah, yeah, yeah, I've been through it all before. Mark my words, that New Doll Afterglow lasts for about a week after Dollgasm. Come mid-June they'll be jonesing for a new Next Big Doll Thing.

Fickle bitches. Here I am, down with the Swine Flu, and all they can think about is new dolls.

That's right, Swine Flu.



AG Hospital staff say the nose should be back to normal in a week to ten days, but what do they know? Their medical expertise is limited to eyeball suctioning and head replacement. Mostly they spend their days trolling AGPT for doll maintenance tips.

But really, I don't mind the nose, because it gives me more to work with for larger-scale piercings. So long as it is temporary. I'm using my enforced convalescence period to kick back in my ass-kicking slippers...



...tune into my favorite JIGGY NYE TRIBUTE BAND, and catch up on my reading. Since there is a Samantha read-along over at AGPT, I decided to reread the Samantha core books -- only backwards to see if they make more sense that way. When you do that you come across odd phrases like "GrandMary had a permanent vibrator implanted in 1902" and "Agnes and Agatha are spawns of the devil" and "Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch."

Makes as much sense as anything else in that series.

My Cousin Antonin is a Prude

Every family has a black sheep. Mine is Cousin Antonin.



Honestly, he's such an embarrassment.

Yesterday he penned the majority opinion for the Supreme Court's decision to uphold the FCC ban on "fleeting" expletives on broadcast television...which he referred to as the 's-word' and the 'f-word.'

I called him, said "SHIT" and hung up. Then I called back around 2 AM and yelled "FUCK!"

He knew it was me.

Irony is truly lost on Antonin. As his collegue Justice Stevens pointed out, broadcast television is replete with advertisements for feminine hygiene and urinary incontinence products, not to mention wink-wink-nod-nod ads for erectile dysfunction treatment.

But Cousin Antonin clearly prefers erectile dysfunction to the "f-word."

Explains a lot about him, doesn't it?

Such an embarrassment.