October 31, 2005
The First Official Photo of Pirate Wench!
Last Halloween, I wrote a post about when Halloween used to be cool and the amazing costumes my Dad made for us.
For those too high on fun-sized Milky Ways to click the link:
There was the huge paper maché clown head, which, looking back on, was pretty scary, but that was years before I was stalked by a Ringling Brothers graduate, so I liked it. And it came in handy when my bag alone could not contain all my candy. Oh, glorious candy-filled clown head!But the piece de resistance was Joan of Arc. (Did you hear the heavenly choir singing when I said that? Cuz I did.) I didn't even really know anything about her, but I was a girl and I was wearing armor, for Pete's sake! How hardcore was I! There was a black cardboard horse that went around my waist, via suspenders under my aluminum armor. And this was no fem, merry-go-round horse, man. This stallion was fierce! With angry eyes and flairing nostrils! And it had a black curtain around the bottom so you couldn't see my real legs underneath, and there were fake, armored legs attached to the side so it looked like I was sitting astride my noble steed! It was so fucking kewl!
This photo was taken in 1977. I had just turned 8, and Billi had just turned 6. (I think I have to credit Older Sister with at least part of the clown head construction. She was also the first to wear it, but I don't have any photos of that.) It's me in the clown head and Billi in the Joan of Arc costume, which I had outgrown by '77. Prior to that, I was Joan of Arc, and Billi was my squire. Hee! Servant Billi!
This one was taken in 1975, according to Mom's notation on the back, so I was just 6 and Billi was just 4. That's a real metal shield Dad made for her. (He's a Mechanical Engineer with Silversmith training -- dude can make ANYTHING.)
I especially love Billi's shoes. This really provides some insight into the shoe-obsession that has plagued her adult life.
Happy Halloween, my pretties!
Posted at 01:05 PM | Comments (5)October 30, 2005
Pretty In Pink
Yeah, I was bored.
Posted at 10:21 AM | Comments (2)October 28, 2005
I'm Loved
So, got a few birthday cards at work today. Let me give you a sampling:
Cover: Olde Tyme priest says, "Clean living, pure thoughts, good morals all make for a long life."
Inside: You're a goner.
Cover: Church Lady smiling indulgently.
Inside: "Remember, dear, it's better to be a year older than a month late."
Cover: PRIDE. GREED. LUST. SLOTH. ANGER. ENVY. GLUTTONY.
Inside: If you don't commit at least five of these today, you're just not trying.
I sense a trend.
Posted at 01:39 PM | Comments (3)October 27, 2005
Chili Mac
Last night, I was watching t.v., and Husband was working late at the office. Having had chili mac for dinner, I farted. And Daisy ran to the door thinking Husband was home.
Now, what exactly does that say about him?
Posted at 01:47 PM | Comments (4)October 26, 2005
It's Berry Awesome!
I've been wanting to post about my Adventures in eBaying for a while now, but I was afraid that someone would find my auctions, then bid on and win something cheap, just to find out my real name and address and stalk me. Because, really, who wouldn't buy some piece of crap they don't want, just to find out a smidgeon of info on me?
Besides, it's finally gotten cold enough at night that Heather has stopped showing up drunk at my bedroom window at 3 a.m. -- I don't need another reason to turn on the hose.
So this post is about the many, many smelly, vapid-faced Strawberry Shortcake dolls I auctioned off recently. And while I'm thinking about 80's cartoon-and-toy icons, I have to tell you guys -- Mom's cell phone has as one of the ringtone options... THE SMURF THEME SONG! Laaa Laaa La-La La Laaaa, Laa La-La La Laaaaaaaaa! Swear to God! I'm so jealous!
Anyhoo, when not reading the LOST and America's Next Top Model recaps, I've been selling Strawberry Shortcake dolls for a friend on eBay. And as my level of nausea increased, so did The Obnoxious Factor in my description of those sweet, little dollies.
Take, for example, Huckleberry Pie.
About whom I wrote:
This is Huckleberry Pie and Pupcake, token male of Strawberryland and instigater of many girlie catfights, I would reckon.In the interest of full disclosure: He comes with his hat, which is a bit scuffed on top. Pupcake says 1982 on the bottom. His clothes are clean and intact.
I just noticed that he's wearing two different shoes. How odd. They're both brown and the same shape, but one is a little lighter and has hearts on it. Won't Strawberry be upset when she finds out her boyfriend has a little cross-dressing habit?!
Anyhoo, face paint is flawless on both boy and dog, and he still smells, well, presumably, like a huckleberry, altho' I have no idea what a huckleberry actually smells like.
Now, clearly, little Huck is gay. Well, I'm not sure any self-respecting gay man would wear overalls, but surely he's a little confused about his gender because he's the only guy that stuck around for the Eternal Tea Party & Fruity Perfume Expo that Strawberry Shortcake seems to be all about.
But I imagine that anyone collecting Strawberry Shortcake dolls is not the kind of person who wants to hear my jaded assessment of their beloved childhood friends. I also imagine that they have lots of cats and knit little outfits for them. And all the cats have names like Mrs. Sipsy Dimpleton and Lord Bootsie of Hackupafurballshire. And they are not the kind of people amused by my sick sense of humor. In fact, they thought "Anne of Green Gables" was a little racey and wrote heated letters about it to PBS. (I think about this way too much.)
Anyhoo, this is Purple Pie Man, Strawberry Shortcake's archnemesis and Hater of All Things Pure and Good and True.
I just couldn't auction this with a straight face. I mean,... *sigh*. I have my reputation to think of! So I wrote this:
This is Purple Pie Man and Berry Bird, foe to all in Strawberryland and general harbinger of doom. You can tell he's evil by the handlebar moustache.In the interest of full disclosure: He comes with his hat and spoon. He also has his apron and aqua tee-shirt, worn over his... purple tights. Or is that a loincloth rather than an apron? I don't know. His whole ensemble is a little confusing, and personally, I don't think I'd be scared of anyone who dressed like this. Especially the way his shoes curl up on the ends, like elf shoes.
Anyhoo, his face paint is flawless, and his clothes have no holes or stains. This doll is very clean and in great shape. He still smells grape-ilicious! (I'm so tired of opening plastic bags and sticking my nose in.)
Now, what do you have to do to be the archnemesis to someone named Strawberry Shortcake? Her only goal in life is to have the best scones in all of Strawberryland. How hard is it to thwart that? Just set her timer back when she's not looking so that they burn and -- POOF! You're an evil warmongor!
(By the way, where is Strawberry Shortcake's Swedish friend, Lingonberry Pancake? There's the token African-American Orange Blossom, the token Latino Café Olé (I'm not making this up), the token frog Crèpe Suzette, and the token stoner from Amsterdam Mint Tulip. Why is it that my people are always overlooked?)
But my favorite is the darling Plum Pudding.
Why is she my favorite? Because she sold for $72.77!!! That's why!
She's the super-rare Party Pleaser Plum Pudding! (And how's that for annoying illiteration?) You can tell she's a Party Pleaser because she's wearing a pretty dress and her owl is playing the accordian. Because nothing says PAR-TAY! like an accordian-playing owl!
I think, by the time they got to Plum Pudding, they were really reaching for fruit-related desserts. I mean, plum pudding -- who eats that? Unless her glasses are meant to indicate that she's the token Brit in Strawberryland? Or possibly the town librarian?
Well, here's what I had to say about her:
This is Party Pleaser Plum Pudding & Elderberry Owl. You can tell she's a Party Pleaser because she's wearing her best dress, and her owl is playing an accordian. I mean, what's a party without an accordian?!In the interest of full disclosure: She has her hat, still attached to her head by those little plastic thingies (which, I imagine, are giving her a huge headache). Elderberry is in perfect shape and says 1984 on the bottom.
Face paint is flawless on both doll and owl. Plum Pudding's clothes are without holes or stains -- in fact, if it weren't for the tiny scuffs on her shoes, you wouldn't even know this doll had been played with.
She smells like I would imagine plum pudding smells, if I had ever smelled it, but since I haven't, I guess I'm just going to have to assume that Kenner is accurate in their recreation of the plum pudding scent.
I'm going to hell for this one:
This is Strawberry Shortcake's token Latino friend, Café Olé and her pet donkey Burrito (which is either a very small donkey or a tastey meal from Chipotlé).
I also alleged that baby Butter Cookie is the love-child of Raspberry Tart and Huckleberry Pie. All this sweetness has made me bitter.
P.S. Someone named "queenkissyfur" bought a couple of the dolls. I'm gonng go out on a limb here and guess that she has multiple cats.
Posted at 12:44 PM | Comments (4)October 25, 2005
Break-Up Note
Dear Automatic Flushing Toilet,
Our time together has been fun, but I'm afraid I can't take it anymore. The disappointment, the coldness. You're always in a hurry to get things over with.
At first, I was charmed by you. How novel! I thought. Now when people stand on the seat and pee down their own leg in an effort to stay completely sanitary, they don't have to flush the toilet with their feet and spread their nasty filth to my hands when I flush!
Truly, you were a dream come true, and I envisioned a happy relationship for years to come. You, me and my pristine hands. We'd have a passionate, clandestine kind of love, with fleeting visits in little out-of-the-way places. It all sounded so perfect!
But you turned on me, Automatic Flushing Toilet. You did. You started making assumptions. You thought you knew me. And that's when it all started to go wrong.
How could you? How could you routinely flush prematurely like that? You knew I wasn't done. I'm sure you think that all that cold water on my butt and thighs is cute and funny, but it isn't. It's just annoying.
You don't know me. You don't know what I need, what I want. How dare you presume to know when I'm done? You rude, impatient bastard. We're through.
I want my CDs back.
Pirate Wench
Posted at 02:18 PM | Comments (1)October 24, 2005
Build-a-Dork
This is what Billi and I did last week. This is what I took off work for. Yup -- Build-a-Bear.
Guess which one is mine!
If you didn't guess the white bear with the Hello Kitty! t-shirt and panties, hang your head in shame!
Billi chose... a monkey. A dozen cute bears and puppies on display, and she chooses... a monkey. And she didn't name him George! What the hell's the matter with her?!
She named him Leroy.
Whatever. I love his outfit. Boxers and a Cookie Monster t-shirt. I wish I was wearing that right now. And riding a unicorn.
Posted at 02:34 PM | Comments (2)October 21, 2005
Workin' Topless
So, Adam Jury works topless (at home), and sent me a photo from his webcam. After recovering from the shock of seeing skin even whiter than mine, I was reminded of the last time I worked topless.
No, it did not involve a pole.
Back in my twenties, I was Nanny to Jerry from the time he was five months, 'til he was three and a half. And I only quit because the Practice Husband and I had bought a house, and I needed more income. To support his José Cuervo habit.
Anyhoo, on one of Jerry's rough days, I had more spit-up and snot on me than I was entirely comfortable with. With a kid, you gotta have some tolerance for puke/snot/poop, but I have my limits. So I took off my shirt, threw it in the wash, and walked around for the next couple hours in my bra. (Probably a Victoria's Secret Miracle Bra -- I was way into them at the time.)
Now, I could have borrowed a t-shirt, and I'm sure Jerry's folks wouldn't have cared. But I just felt weird about rooting around in their dresser drawers. God forbid I find something I didn't want to think about! They're pastors!!!
Anyhoo, some months later, Jerry started putting words together to form sentences. You know, like "Daddy bye-bye," and "More cookie!" And one of his first sentences was "Nanny hot!"
Swear. To. God.
Oh, how I love that kid.
I'm sure he's gonna be all kinds of messed up when puberty comes along.
Posted at 01:33 PM | Comments (4)October 20, 2005
MFK Smackdown!
Okay. As promised.
MFK - Famous Males You Have Lusted After* Christian Bale
* Joaquin Phoenix
* Bruce Campbell (had to throw him in there.)
Obviously, we have to pretend they're all single, or at least willing to leave their wives for me. Which isn't really that big of a leap -- their wives are certainly no prettier than I am. Meow.
Let's see... according to my research (i.e. hearsay and gossip), they all have some pretty major strikes against them. Mr. Bale is a lunatic, Mr. Phoenix is a druggie, and Mr. Campbell has kids.
Bale is 31, Phoenix will turn 31 next week (figures he's a Scorpio), and Campbell is 46. Well, Bruce is still younger than Husband. God, are the other two really younger than me? They look... I believe the phrase is ridden hard and put away wet.
Okay, decision time. Can't marry an addict. Been there, done that. So -- psycho or dad? There's so little distinction between the two sometimes... Oh, it's Bruce. You knew it was Bruce! Always has been, always will be.
To fornicate with? I'm thinking all that heroin or crank or mescal in Joaquin's body would probably hinder his sexual performance, so I gotta go with Christian. I mean, dude is IN. SHAPE. I just hope I can call him "Chris" or "Bale" or "Batman." I don't want to yell out "Christian" during sex. Reminds me of church. Not hot.
Kill Joaquin. I'd miss him, but then he could be reunited with his brother. In Druggie Hell. To do penance for their sins, together, through all eternity. Besides -- two Scorpios together? Now that's Hell!
MFK - Internet (and Real Life) Friends - Female* Heather
* Queen of Ass
* Scarlett Cyn
Okay, killing off guys with a few keystrokes, I really don't have a problem with. But making me off one of my sistahs?! Dude, that's cold. So let's get this over with.
Heather -- altho' hott -- can only cook one dish, she's a bathroom hog who can't stay outta the damn bathtub, and my medical insurance rates would sky-rocket, so she's completely outta the running for marriage. Queen of Ass also outta the running because there's only room for one psychopath in my relationships, and I'm that psychopath!
Yup, gonna have to marry Cyn. And move to Madagascar or wherever (damn you, public school education!). I mean, chick puts up with a Mother In Law who has, literally, put a curse on her. Heh, I'm a friggin' frolic through the roses compared to that bitch! Dear Scarlett would be so grateful to have me (and my awesome, adorable Mom), our lives would be Happily Ever After!
Now, who to... erm, have relations with? Meh, I've already done Heather, so Queenie it is!
Sorry, Heather, you're gonna have to die. But don't worry -- I will totally be a drama queen at your funeral and wear a black veil and sob hysterically and throw myself on your coffin as it's being lowered, yelling, "Why, God?! WHYYYYYYYYYY! It should have been meeeeeeeeeee!" Pure awesome. I'll try not to laugh.
MFK - Internet (and Real Life) Friends - Male* Uncle Twitchy
* John Kovalic
* Me (well, I almost had to, didn't I?)
Well, I totally have to marry Marty cuz he makes more money than the other two put together. Plus? He cleans house. Case closed.
But the next decision is as hard as the first one was easy. (All puns intended.) I guess what it comes down to is this: Do I want a lover who will gently coax me to arousal, own me with every inch of his tall-dark-and-handsome body, brush my hair afterwards, make me waffles in the morning, and send me roses the following day? Or do I want a lover who will take me on the kitchen floor with half our clothes still on, flip me over, grab my hair like reins and ride me like a pony, only to flick his cigarette at me when he's done and say, "Hey, did I show you my new webcam?"
Tough call.
Seriously.
Okay, new world order. Marry John, fuck Twitchy and kill Marty. Sorry, dude, but I just can't picture you having sex! And no, I'm not giving back my birthday presents.
P.S. I so wanna play this with Mom at Mission Supper.
Posted at 09:49 AM | Comments (8)October 19, 2005
MFK Ultimate Challenge
So. Marty was my 500th commenter, and he went against "the norm" and responded via email. You'll understand why, when you see the length of his... query (perverts!).
He posed a game of MFK, an old I.M. stand-by for boring workdays. MFK, for those of you unfamiliar, stands for Marry Fuck Kill. The way you play is to pick three similar people -- real or pretend -- i.e. co-workers, hobbits, dead celebrities. The other person has to pick which to marry, which to fuck and which to kill. Theoretically, the answers should tell you something about the person's character, so it's best to elaborate on your motivations.
On to Marty's email:
Wow. The power that I wield right now. Enough to make one giddy, it is!A bit of research is in order, so that I don't go over any covered ground here. QofA was your 400th commenter, and she asked about maritime questions (and marital aides). She was also your 300th commenter, and she asked about sex and what gets you going (surprise, surprise...but I just enjoyed re-reading that one Slowly.) Number 200 was InnocentBystander, who asked an innocent question, and you managed to work a vibrator into your answer (and no, that wasn't a euphemism.) And Heather's Timid Co-Worker, as number 100, asked you about the Spice Girls. So. Lots of open territory to explore. And not a serious question among the lot of them.
By the way, I have, for future reference, created a separate category containing exactly the posts listed above, and for all future officially-sanctioned questions and answers. Commenters' Q&A. Let us continue...
So in keeping with the theme of nothing even approaching a serious question, let's just play an old favorite of ours, MFK - Marry, Fuck or Kill?MFK - Famous Males You Have Lusted After
* Christian Bale
* Joaquin Phoenix
* Bruce Campbell (had to throw him in there.)MFK - Internet (and Real Life) Friends - Female
* Heather
* Queen of Ass
* Scarlett CynMFK - Internet (and Real Life) Friends - Male
* Uncle Twitchy
* John Kovalic
* Me (well, I almost had to, didn't I?)Have fun! I anxiously await my fate!
Well, he certainly took some license with the word "question," didn't he? Seems like this is MANY questions! Meh, it's not like I have much else to blog about lately, so I'll let it slide.
Tomorrow -- my answers... and motivations!
Oh, yeah, like y'all don't know my motivations. Presents, chocolate, naps... yup! That about sums it up! Well, if my answers are predictable, I'll at least try to make them funny.
Posted at 10:44 AM | Comments (1)October 18, 2005
The Rain In Spain Falls Mainly On the Plain
My hair, while gorgeous, is a pain in the butt. There's the washing and conditioning and drying and straightening -- the detangler, the creme, the shine mist. I love how it looks when I wear it down, but I hate it in my face. It tickles.
So every now and then, I throw the whole mess in a ponytail and forget about it. But even that flops in my face and itches my neck. I've always wished I could wear a bun or something, but I'm not 87 years old.
Last weekend, I found the solution in Door County. Yes, you are completely justified to shudder at the thought of finding any hair solution in Door County. And yes, it is made out of leather and wood.
It's one of those contraptions from the 70's with the leather web-like thing and the wooden stick that goes thru it. You're supposed to wind up your hair, put the web-thing over it, then put the stick thru the web then the mass of hair then the other side of the web, to hold the whole thing close to your scalp. Would have been worn with a crocheted top and embroidered bell-bottoms.
It doesn't resemble an actual hair-do on me so much as it does a deceased ferret. But my hair is outta my face, and I don't have to look at the ferret, so I don't care.
One of the other secretaries on my side of the office is just the kindest, sunniest person, and she says to me, "You look so elegant with your hair up like that!"
Meanwhile, I'm sportin' a Gap hoodie and wondering, "What the hell is this on my pants?"
Yup. Practically a lady.
Posted at 11:20 AM | Comments (1)It Was Bound To Happen
Well, he played the odds and won.
Marty, you are my 500th commenter, for your comment on this post. Ask me a question. No question is too big, too small, too personal, too surreal, too... whatever.
All I ask is... please, be gentle.
Posted at 07:30 AM | Comments (1)October 17, 2005
Shop Early, Shop Often!
I turn 36 in two weeks, and to ease the blow, I am going to need the following gifts, preferrably wrapped in whimsical, hand-decorated paper, and tied with yards of pink satin and tulle:
1. Seasons IV, V and VI of "Xena: Warrior Princess" on DVD.
2. A date with Bruce Campbell. And by date, I mean hot, ravenous monkey sex. (I can't wait to see him in pink satin!) If Bruce is otherwise engaged on the 30th, I'll settle for his new book, Make Love the Bruce Campbell Way.
3. Miniature Chairs from Pottery Barn. The shipping is FREE, so at $69, they're practically giving them away!
4. One word: HOODIES.
5. I have recently begun flirting with this hot little number from Tiffany & Co. Mmmm, tall, shiney and handsome. I know he's out of my league, but I just won't rest until I possess him completely!
6. World peace and an end to all disease. (If not immediately available, I'll take a gift card.)
7. A new job as copy writer for the crap people put up for auction on eBay. Now there's a job I could have fun with! As you will see next week... (Ooooooh, foreshadowing!)
8. A first class plane ticket to go visit Scarlett Cyn in her homeland of, ohhhhh, let's say... Arabia.
9. A book entitled Ideas to Blog About for the Days That You're Totally Worthless. Or a book deal to write such a book.
10. Hallmark eCards from my readers to validate me.
Posted at 11:55 AM | Comments (4)October 13, 2005
1-800-GRR-WOOF
Daisy stayed at my parents' house while Husband and I were on vacation. She looooooooves it there! They have a HUGE back yard, and they're home a lot more than Husband and I are, so it's like a vacation for Daisy. Different crotches to sniff! New pizza crusts to beg for! Wheeeeeeeeee -- it's Christmas!
We got back in town last night around dinner time, and I called over there to let them know I'd be coming to get Daisy. Dad answered, which means Mom is either out or dead.
"Hello?"
"WHERE'S MOM???" I demanded, looking at the four un-listened-to messages on my answering machine and wondering if one of them was about Mom's funeral arrangements.
"She took Nephew to choir practice."
"Oh. Okay, well, I'll be there to get Daisy in about 20 minutes."
"Okay. You wanna talk to her?"
"Um... N-no..."
"Awwwwwww, she wants to talk to you."
"Dad, don't put the dog on the phone. Dad! Dad? Don't put the--Daisy! Hi! ... Yes, I'll be there in a little bit... No, you can't stay there... Because you're our dog! ... Because I said so... I will take you for more walks! ... Put your grandpa back on the phone."
HE PUT THE DOG ON THE PHONE.
This is going right into my Case for Having Dad Committed file.
Posted at 02:33 PM | Comments (2)October 07, 2005
Yeah, They're Real
Because I can't think of one damn thing to blog about today.
I just thought I'd share some joy with you guys. And gals. Autumn weather is finally here, I get to leave work early today, Heather is soon to be an auntie, and my hooters are fabulous. It's a good day!
Won't be writing again until Thursday because I'll be in Door County eating all the apple- and pumpkin-related food items I can get my mitts on. So this photo will be up for six days, giving Mom ample time to write me outta the will.
I know what Billi's thinking: "Now post one of your cooter so I can have all your Christmas presents!"
Posted at 12:28 PM | Comments (7)October 05, 2005
Because I'm Ten
A forty-year-old virgin came up to me the other day and said, "You know how I know you're gay? Cuz you collect Barbies, you eat dinner with the same people every Thursday night, and you sing in a chorale."
And I just couldn't argue with him.
But in my defense, Husband, and K, Garrance and Adam from Mission Supper all sing in the chorale, too. Actually, that's not much of a defense. I need a better lawyer.
So we were at rehearsal Monday night, and our regular director wasn't there, so our pianist was leading the rehearsal. She's totally cool and adorable and fun and BRILLIANT on the piano.
We were just about to leave, and Jane goes, "Oh, let's sing thru this whole thing one more time, just for the hoo-ha!"
My, but that's an odd use for that word.
Needless to say, I collapsed in a fit of hysterical giggles. The kind where your face contorts into ugliness and you're actually closer to crying than laughing. How embarrassing.
And then I made the mistake of looking at Husband and Adam, and they, too, were laughing and red-faced and looking around shamefully. So how was I not supposed to laugh, I ask you?!
K goes, "Oh, would you get a grip?"
No. No, I cannot. Because I'm ten.
After rehearsal, Garrance told me about how the old choir director at church used to say, "Okay, we'll just sing a little snatch of this song."
What is it with choir directors and their unintentional vaginal euphemisms?
Posted at 02:58 PM | Comments (5)October 04, 2005
Move Over, Barbie -- There's a New Girl In Town
For those of you just tuning in, I collect Barbies. I do not have fifteen cats. I do not keep my Barbies in their boxes. I've never paid more than $150 for a Barbie. In short, I am not insane.
I'm NOT!
Until now.
My friend and fellow Barbie collector, Joe, was recently the recipient of AN ENTIRE DINING ROOM FULL OF TOYS FROM THE LATE 70s/EARLY 80s, given to him by a friend who was cleaning out her attic. There were Barbies and other dolls -- lots of crap but a few gems. Joe looked it over, gleaned what few things he wanted, and then had me come over to see if there was anything I would like.
Ironically, even tho' I grew up in the 70s/80s, I hate the faces of the Barbies back then, all surprised and coked-out, like they were just caught snorting coke off their wee little CD cases. Stupid SurfControl at work won't let me watch videos of Kate Moss snorting coke!
I'm sorry -- where was I? Oh yeah. Hhhhhhate the Superstar Barbie face, so there wasn't much there that interested me. Until I laid eyes on... the Sack o' Strawberry Shortcake. Truly, it was a sight to behold -- all those green-and-white striped legs and pastel-colored afros. Eek.
I never played with them myself. No, really! Billi went through a brief phase where she couldn't stop sniffing their faux-fruit-scented heads, but she was young and just experimenting. She grew out of it quickly. Meanwhile, my tastes had already moved on to slingshots and BB guns. No, really!
But I know an opportunity when I see one. And I know that people my age are getting nostalgic and starting to re-collect their childhood toys.
"Dude, we are rich. We're so selling these on eBay."
And by we I mean me because Joe only checks his email, like, once a week, so clearly he's not computer-savvy (i.e. computer-dependant) enough to have mastered the complex intricasies of eBay.
So, I took them home and, with the help of eBay and some Geosites devoted exclusively to all things Strawberry Shortcake, managed to identify all the dolls and match the proper hat and pet to its master. "Bow to me, Pupcake! I am your Master!" "Please, Huckleberry Pie, not the nipple clamps!"
Um...
Anyhoo,...
I now know more than I ever wanted to know about Strawberry Shortcake.
Did you know that, the first year they were released, they had "flat hands" with all their fingers extended, and they didn't have any pets? Now, you'd think that being petless would render one less valuable, but actually, the first releases are more valuable. The second through fifth releases have curled fingers, so they can hold onto their tea cups, presumably.
Did you know that Orange Blossom (i.e. Token Black Shortcake) has a pet butterfly named Marmalade? Or that Crepe Suzette's pet's name is Eclair? I'll bet you didn't! Ha! Don't you feel stupid!
I spent an hour and a half of my life figuring out which doll was which and which accessories completed them. It was time I could have spent researching, oh... anything else on the internet. American history, astronomy, ship-building -- ANYTHING! But no. These are my priorities. Ask my anything about Strawberry Shortcake!
And then kill me.
But I am slightly consoled by the fact that one of the dolls we have just sold for $100 on eBay, and another for $90. So who feels stupid now?!
Posted at 02:05 PM | Comments (8)