The New Barbie Doll
[i]How Barbie finally got changed....[/i]
(Hat tip to Destry for this one.)
Barbara Millicent Roberts
c/o Mattel, Inc.
El Segundo, CA 90245
North Pole, North Pole
23 December 1996
There had better be some changes around here this Christmas, or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown (and trust me, you won't wanna be around to smell it). So, here's my holiday wish list for 2006:
•A nice, comfy pair of sweat pants and a frumpy, oversized sweatshirt. I'm sick of looking like a hooker. How much smaller are these bathing suits gonna get? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon and Velcro crawling up your butt?
•Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. Preferably white. What bonehead at Mattel decided to cheap out and MOLD imitation underwear to my skin?!? It looks like cellulite!
•A REAL man ... maybe GI Joe. Hell, I'd take Tickle-Me Elmo over that wimped-out excuse for a toyboy, Ken. And what's with that earring, anyway? If I'm gonna have to suffer with him, at least make him (and me) anatomically correct.
•Arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is anatomically correct.
•Breast-reduction surgery. I don't care whose arm you have to twist, get it done.
•A sports bra to wear until I get the surgery.
•A new career. Pet doctor and school teacher just don't cut it. How about a systems analyst? Or better yet, a public relations senior account executive?
•A new, more 2006 persona. Maybe "PMS Barbie", complete with a miniature container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a bag of chips; "Animal Rights Barbie", with my very own paint gun, outfitted with a fake fur coat, bottle of spray-on blood and handcuffs; or "Stop Smoking Barbie", sporting a removable Nicotrol patch and equipped with several packs of gum.
•No more McDonald's endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl.
•Mattel stock options. It's been 37 years; I think I deserve it.
OK, Santa, that's it. Considering my valuable contribution to society, I don't think these requests are out of line. If you disagree, then you can find yourself a new b*tch for next Christmas. It's that simple.