Sometimes I don't repost my private myspace blog, 'cause it's well, ummm, just a little too out there. But then I figured what the hell, nobody reads this except Anner and maybe one of the people she works with could come across it, so this one was one of the latest. Below are the comments that follow betwixt my friends and I.

PS... I know it's wrong for anyone my age to love myspace, but I'm sorry, I just do. I think it's all the allure of the pictures and the glitterati.

Title: well helllllloooo dolly
Current mood: freaked the FUCK out
Category: Friends

Looking at one of my favorite sites, and found this and it's just TOO BATSHIT CRAZY not to share. I mean, this gives new meaning to the My Buddy song - and I just can't get it out of my head since watching it...

1:54 AM - 7 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove _______________________________________

Savage Henry
Wow. Just... wow. Posted by Savage Henry on Sunday, July 15, 2007 at 8:20 AM
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tu dit
that was EXACTLY the comment i left last night after i watched it... but then i thought, awwww shee-it i should try to write something intelligent here - but i COULDN'T! i was just.... FLOORED! and deeply regretting having watched such a thing before i went to sleep... so.. obviously, i declined to leave a comment. Posted by tu dit on Sunday, July 15, 2007 at 1:44 PM _______________________________________________

The undoing of Ingrid

toys, toys, toys in the attic -
Alrite, upon having a little longer to digest this, I'm convinced someone needs to open up a rehabilitation clinic for these guys. 'Cuz I mean, after like 5-6 years of screwing a doll like Davecat there, he's completely mentally ruint. Just ruint. And poor Gordon, what do you think life at the factory is going to be like for Gordon once his coworkers get a load of this shit?? Can't you see it? A coworker comes into the breakroom where Gordon is eating his PB&J sandwich and he sidles up next to him, "Hey Gordon -I met this GREAT girl this weekend and she's perfect for you, she even asked about you. Oh my God, she's beautiful, you have GOT to meet her (slight pause, then the coworker unzips his lunch cooler) and says, "Here!" and pulls out a Bratz doll.

But the creepiest of the dudes was the one who fixes them, I mean that shit is nuts... can't you imagine how pissed off Davecat would be if he knew the guy who was supposed to be fixing 'em screwed "Sheshawn?" It would TOTALLY result in Davecat pressing rape charges.

However, I did feel really sad for the guy who keeps his mother's room all just like she left it lets his silicone sex fest take over the rest of the house. I felt genuinely bad for him. Actually I felt bad for all of them. 'Cuz I'm all for masturbation, there's absolutely nothing wrong with it, but Jesus H. Christ flying a kite there's a limit. Because with shit like this we end up with statements from poor schleps like Gordon that conclude 'I don't go for all that stuff like thongs and high heels - it makes a woman look like she's been had by everybody. It would be like going into a restaurant and somebody ordering a piece of steak and then chewing it up and spitting it back out and giving it to me - ewww, no. I don't want that.' So women become what to Gordon? A used piece of fillet - wrapped in bacon?

Hey you remember that Futurama episode where Fry got all crazy over his robot Lucy Liu sex robot? Hmmm, yeah, it's like that. So I guess the next step would be for them to make the dolls like Teddy Ruxpin and add conversation programs. Posted by The undoing of Ingrid on Sunday, July 15, 2007 at 12:47 PM _____________________________________________

tu dit

one thing which really struck me was how all of these men took such pleasure in 'caring for' their dolls. the makeup, the clothes, the hairdoo's... behaviour that isn't typically 'masculine' and definitely not errrrr... well, when was the last time you had a boyfriend dress you and do your hair and makeup? ultimately these are grown men mothering their babydolls... throwing tea parties for them, having imaginary conversation with them, fucking their brains out. another thing which was common to all the men was self-pity, "ohhh i could never score a chick this hot so i had to buy a Realdoll." oh really? maybe that's because 99% of women don't look like Barbie with a boob-job! i thought that the 'woman as chewed up piece of meat' metaphor really said it all though... Posted by tu dit on Sunday, July 15, 2007 at 1:58 PM ______________________________________________

Savage Henry

One thing I will give them is that they are saving a shit load of money in the long run. Posted by Savage Henry on Monday, July 16, 2007 at 7:17 AM [Remove] [Reply to this] ___________________________________________________________

Brad

I kept waiting to see a guy with an underage doll. Jesus.... Posted by Brad Evans on Monday, July 16, 2007 at 10:47 AM _________________________________________

The undoing of Ingrid

You three are all just funny as hell. I am at fault though in the fact I should have warned you to watch this in the day time with plenty of time to shake it before you lay down to dream. And talking about mothering the dolls? Ummm, well, I don't know if that's really mothering, per se, but I was fairly taken aback by the foot rub they showed Davecat giving Sheshawn. I bet she really enjoyed it.

Posted by The undoing of Ingrid on Monday, July 16, 2007 at 12:49 PM

I work at a university and in the summer we have a program for little 4-10 year olds called "Kid's College." And because of Kid's College being partially located in my building this year and my office being located DIRECTLY across from the upstairs bathroom - I've seen the most rag-tag parade of little ducklings for the past several weeks going back and forth to the bathroom - back and forth, back and forth, all day long. Now there are no academic divisions in this "Kid's College" like in regular school, so the normal kids are in with the special kids, as long as they're all well behaved. But mainly, I've watched "Kelsey" go back and forth to the shitter all summer. Who, incidentally, comes in somewhere behind the residential trisomy 21 kid (Ashton) on the developmental scale. Not being mean, just stating the facts.

I'm not sure what's wrong, but I'm pretty sure it somehow involves a lack of oxygen at some point, poor child. Anyway, Kelsey goes for 20-minute periods away from her classroom as best as I can tell doing something, I'm not sure what, in the bathroom... although I did walk in there yesterday and watched her trying to make papyrus I reckon - by putting wads of toilet paper in the sink then taking it out in soppy globs and pressing it flat again. I think her teachers are just glad she's not in their hair. She just came and stood at my office door for about the 5th time today staring at me muttering unintelligible jive and got me with the old "there's a bug in there!" trick, 'cuz somehow she just knows she found a sucker in me and I'm trying to be patient...

So after leading me through three offices to show me this elusive ghost bug, she finally comes BACK in my office and flops down at the computer, exasperated with a big "hmmmmmph..." and just starts typing on some random contract I've got up on the screen. I was like "GREAT! Since this is the longest Tuesday EVAR you just sit right there Kelsey and play on the blinky box, and if anybody walks by you just sit real still, and they won't notice," because you see we're both blonde. And then I thought about taking off a few hours early, but then as I'm asking Kelsey where her teacher is, my boss walked in on both of us in my tiny office at the same time, thus spoiling my plans for a doppelganger switch.

The fucked up thing is you know he didn't even wince, he didn't even question it, he just told me he needed me to log out of the network for a while and walked out - the REALLY fucked up thing is he was looking a Kelsey when he said it, like she's me or something. Giving more credence to the thought that as long as there was a warm body sitting here nobody might notice if I outsourced myself with a 9-year-old special kid for about 70% of the time.

Currently reading :
The 4-Hour Workweek: Escape 9-5, Live Anywhere, and Join the New Rich
By Timothy Ferriss
Release date: 12:00 AM

My MaMa Ruth (grandmother, oddly enough pronounced like a bastardized Southern American/Italian conglomeration of elongated short vowels Ma´Ma) god bless her, must've known she had a budding pyro on her hands by the time I was five after finding matches on me for about the tenth time, because she came up with the best reason I've heard yet for matches being off limits to kids and it went like this:

MaMa: Nooo, nooooo little Jenny, you can't ever handle the matches.
Me: Not even to help you start a fire in the fireplace?
MaMa: No you let me handle those.
Me: But what if I NEED to use one?
MaMa: Oh no, you will never need one, ever. You can drop one match on the floor, and not even know it, then a rat will come along and put it in its' mouth and run along the baseboard and strike it and burn the WHOLE house down.
Me: No it won't.
MaMa: Yes it will, why I read in the paper just the other week about a whole family who was burnt up like that, dead.
Me: Where?
MaMa: Oh, somewhere up in North Georgia.

And so that was the end all be all line to quell all arguments in my MaMa's house, "I read it in the paper," and someplace you didn't quite know where it was, or didn't want to say, was either somewhere "way up in north Georgia" or "way down in south Georgia." End of story.

Now, as far as the rat theory goes, I guess it's not entirely implausible for a rat to actually pick up a match and put it in its' mouth, but for the rat to actually be diabolical or fast enough to perform this trick is downright hilarious, I mean, can you picture it? I think it's also fair here that I insert the fact country people can be unbelievably paranoid (you think the rat theory is good? Oh honey, you might not ever BELIEVE some of the paranoia they fed me when I was growing up, I guess it comes to figure right I was telling tales before I could ever come to understand the value in it). So, I don't know if she was just throwing out this red herring of a diversion about nefarious rats because she knew this would keep my little gears turning for hours, days - decades apparently, or if she really believed it. But it sure made for a good story anyways.

Of course now, most of us under 50 get only a smidgen of our daily news from the written word, like The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, why it even the name sounds quaint, now doesn't it?

Yet, just two days ago somebody in the office brought in an AJC, and there I was, picturing my MaMa in the back of my mind, leafing through it, pages spread all around her when I read the mother of all recent red herrings - in huge headline/Garamond font, detailing the release of the now practically older-than-Methusela redacted documents released by the CIA is supposed to set us all ablaze. Well whoopdeefrikkin'doo, download them here if you feel so inclined to read about the ways we tried to whack Castro during the middle ages - http://graphics8.nytimes.com/packages/pdf/national/20070626_family_jewels.pdf

Is this supposed to be the red herring that distracts Sunshine Law pushers from Cheney's refusal to hand over documents to the Senate something else? OLD TRICKY DICK HIMSELF had a better compliance record and more respect for the highest law of the land. This CIA crap was requested in '92, ya think they're just releasing it now because they feel like it, or because we've got a new director, or the planets are in line with ur anus or whatever?

Here's what they should have done: instead of releasing it for free as declassified documents, under the ruse that we actually have the right to the information without paying, the CIA should have formed an alliance with the Franklin Mint and released it in a handsome and collectible leatherbound edition made from the skin of Gitmo detainees. Titling it "Ancient History that Doesn't Make A Flying Fuck Now" and charged three easy installment of $19.95, made a little money to pay for all extra surveillance hours they've sneaked in since 9/11. And why not? We're capitalists, we've gotta think of some way to start bailing out the debt on the war Bush & Co. estimated would cost LESS THAN $50 BILLION which, at the moment we are up to $438 BILLION. And counting.

$438 Billion.

That was just a small underestimation there, just a little white lie, like you know – WMDs are actually in Iraq, or Valerie Plame -never heard of her, or we had NO way of knowing of the people dying in NOLA, or we had prior knowledge of the mass firings of federal prosecutors going on, or no bid contracts, take your pick Our government is gurgling, drowning in blue blood, and nobody seems to give a fuck, we're all too busy watching FOX News, writing myspace blogs, whatever, I'm just as damn guilty.

Still, true or not, on the verge of this Fourth of July '07, I'd trust about any damn one of 'em about as much as a rat with a match… in a fireworks factory, made out of 30 year old redacted documents built to scale as a paper mache version of the Lincoln Memorial… soaked in lighter fluid.

Have you heard about that one?
I read it in the paper.

Currently reading :
The Rejection Collection: Cartoons You Never Saw, and Never Will See, in The New Yorker
By Matthew Diffee
Release date: 12:00 AM

After going from this:

To this:

The Spice Girls (as seen below) now renamed the Mild MILFs for their international reunion tour, vowed on Thursday they would wow the world once again with their jaunty Brit sexuality. As Posh Spice poses with the American flag in reverence to the country where she got her recent breast augmentation, Baby Spice, who is actually great with her own baby, half-assed holds up the Spanish flag while smiling, as her other three bandmates limply drag their flags on the ground in honor of the countries where they are about to stuff their respective pockets.