We went to some antique shops this past weekend, and I strolled past this beauty, which I would have bought in a second if it wasn’t $30:
Do not ever, ever, accept candy from a zombie. I know this is basic stuff you learn in pre-school, but it’s never too late for a reminder. Also, do not ever, ever, accept candy named “Zombies.” While they may only advertise the coconut, rum, and imitation rum (mmmm), we ALL know what the secret ingredient must be.
You know what’s extra awesome about this? I would be SAFE! Why? Because I hate coconut.
And, in case you weren’t sufficiently frightened – this was an empty tin, which means several people are already infected, or, if it was someone like me with control issues, but loved coconut, one person is already infected.
This morning I woke up and looked at the clock. It was 8:25. “Oh no!” I thought to myself, Tom’s going to be late for work. So I did my wifely duty and woke him up.
Me: Hey, it’s 8:25 Tom: Ok. Me: Did you remember to set your alarm? Tom: Yes. Me: Ok. Tom: Ok. Me: Ok. Tom: I’m not working today.
That means it’s a movie and dog walking day! Which means that instead of a real post, I’m putting up more pictures from my Barbie doll trunk. Just like my husband not realizing he needed my help waking him up, you didn’t realize you needed to look at pictures of old dolls, but here I am. I’m a giver like that.
Pictures taken of dolls found as is, or as was, circa early 1990s.
This is a Jem doll, with a sensible bob hairdo, modified from her original 80s rock star hair. So now she can rock out or answer the phones and notarize documents. I was helpful even as a child. She's squeezed into a barbie dress, which means you get a show up in the boobage area.MEGA BUNS!She's a Barbie and a Swiffer!Uh, this Barbie has a cumberbun wrapped around her neck, over her hair. This is either the beginning of a major trend, or someone's been caught getting kinky with Kenbie.
This Christmas it was my turn to get sick. Usually Tom or I get sick, and since last year was a Christmas miracle and neither one of us got sick, this year turned out to be my year.
My brain is being a bitch and won’t put together any kind of logical, linear narrative or post, so here’s a collection of pictures from what I’ve been doing.
We’re spending the week in N.C. with my mom and sister. The drive from Georgia takes about 6 hours, which inevitably means a bathroom break. Last time I was assured at a South Carolina rest stop I wouldn’t be stabbed with a screwdriver. This time, at a gas station, was a sign that reminded me that I was using the bathroom in a gas station:
I love polite toilets.
Then, we went on a walk, and Tom made the observation that the people who lived here must have started having their house painted, then noticed they loved the color of the painter’s tape so much, they switched it up.
And on the walk, both of the dogs kept peeing on red fire hydrants. I boooed at them every time. It’s so cliched and expected. The only saving grace is that we know they aren’t doing it ironically because in real life, there are no doggie hipsters.
BOOOOOOO!
I looked through the photo albums at my mom’s house, as I often do, because I live in the past. I found a picture from the year Santa brought me my Wonder Woman sleeping bag, and I had just found it in the 1983 Sears WishBook on the Wish Book Web:
I also found a picture of me trying to fit in my arms all the Care Bear figures my grandma got me. And I’m sure she rolled her eyes and mentioned how spoiled I was because that’s the kind of grandma she was:
And, this Christmas, Santa left me a nice stash of Nerds to cannibalize:
I hope you all had and are having a happy holiday. And may all of you and your family members come out the other side un-strangled.
Lite-Brite. I wanted a Lite-Brite so bad when I was a kid but never got one. You could turn on the magic of colored lights with it and my mom didn’t even care. She said she didn’t want to step on all the little lights and then clog the vacuum with them because I wouldn’t clean up after myself. Just because something is true doesn’t mean I shouldn’t get a Lite-Brite.
When we moved when I was 9, our new neighbors had a Lite-Brite. I wouldn’t call the turning on of colored lights “magic,” it was more of a “huh” experience. And, I distinctly remember all of us kids moving on to something else and not cleaning up the Lite Brite.
The Lite-Brite commercials were a miraculous acheivement in advertising:
This commercial is 30 seconds long. The amount of fun you can have with a Lite-Brite is 31 seconds. The euphoria you feel watching the commercial: the lights, “all the things you can do with it,” a birthday party… it all ends right before the crushing realization that this thing, this Lite Brite, is not the end all and be all of everything that is fun and wonderful. And, let’s quickly break down everything they do in this commercial:
– Couple of examples of the template pictures – a clown, a ballerina.
– “Here’s Suzy.” Suzy took the time to make a Lite-Brite sign before she dismembered her family with an ax.
– Two kids, EACH WITH THEIR OWN LITE-BRITE, the little richies, doing more templates
– A little boy makes a good night sign for his absentee father. He has plenty of time to do it because he’s so lonely.
– Someone made a “Happy Birthday” sign with it for some kid’s party. And whomever that poor kid is, they weren’t allowed to blow their own candles out by themselves.
None of these things seem like fun at all when you stop to think about them. It’s the colors and the quick editing. Somehow, they created a commercial that made one of the most boringest things ever (that doesn’t even come with it’s own light bulb and oh-my-god it’s just a fucking light bulb with a shoebox over it) seem like heroin, crack, and candy all rolled into one.
And here’s an older one, I love the lame, generic promise of being able to “make people, animals, things.”
So, my mom never had to vacuum up lite-brite pegs, and I still learned the valuable lesson of something not being as awesome as it seemed. But you know what WAS awesome, that I used over and over again, and loved to no end? Fashion Plates. I may have only worn jeans and t-shirts (still do), but I’ll cobble together an amazing look for a fashion plate. This ad is for versions newer than mine was, and the New Kids on the Block version is hilarious:
Anybody have a Lite-Brite and love it? What other toys crushed your soul after you realized they sucked?
