I’d Rather Play With “Fat Barbie™” [Friday Thoughts With TeeCoZee]
Good Moleman. I need the biggest seed bell you have. No, that’s too big. It’s Friday, January 29, Two Thousand and Fifteen. The weather in Brooklyn is 40˚& Pantone 4804 and somewhere, somebody is debating whether or not Cameron Diaz is pokeable. On one end, he’d probably never be in a situation where she would beg for his almighty thrust and he should never have delusions like that, especially after what happened on his last trip to Dollywood. On the other end, she looks like the love child of the Crypt Keeper and a rabid wolverine. What’s she been up to lately, anyway? He goes to look up her stats, but falls down a rabbit hole and ends up reading about The Challenger Explosion for 3 hours. C’est la guerre. I wouldn’t try to learn anything about Cameron Diaz, either. I heard her parents are Angus Scrimm and a rabid bat. I also have some things on my mind.
– I don’t know who I am anymore. [That may be exaggerating. Let me reiterate: I don’t know who I am anymore. Damnit. Whatever.] After almost a full month of sobriety, my sleep cycle has changed drastically. Nowawdays, I’m Larry Csonking out by 1 AM. It used to be 4. This means that I’m getting up early, which is even more confusing. Take the Friday Thoughts, for example. In the past, this has been my Friday schedule:
9:00 – Expect to wake up naturally
11:15 – Actually wake up
12:00 – Finish zoning out in bed
12:30 – Pick up a pizza
12:35 – Catch up on my shows
3:00 – Find something else that’s distracting
4:00 – Start writing the thoughts
5:30 – Finish the thoughts, disappointed that I didn’t have any great ideas and it’s already dark outside.
Compare that to what happened today:
9:40 – Wake up. Gauging the sunlight and comparing it how rested I feel, I deduce that it’s probably 2 in the afternoon
9:40:30 – Look at my phone to see the real time
9:40:45 – Throw some clothes on
9:41:05 – Open my laptop
9:41:25 – Go to BFD
9:41:35 – Start writing
What used to take 5 hours to start now only takes me a minute and a half. I may not be getting a lot done [because depression], but this sobriety thing is…uhh…kind of cool?
– I’d like to take a moment to wish a Happy Birthday to one of the few people that’s kept BFD alive over the years, Hila The Killa. If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have a picture of a girl getting teabagged in our image database. Thank you for making me look like that on a weekly basis. That, and all the pictures of you peeing. You are a true treasure to the internet. We all hope you start writing here again soon, so you can once again anonymously harass dudes on Tinder and do other things that I don’t have the cojones/vagina to conjure up. Happy Birthday, you beautiful weirdo.
– In this new section, I’m going to come up with responses to this I read in the NY Post. It doesn’t have a title yet. This weeks subject: Fat Barbie!
Looks like someone has been spending a lot of time in the Barbie Deluxe Kitchen.
I wonder who it was? I bet it was Barbie. She has one. Why WOULDN’T she use it? Also, your opening sentence isn’t even grammatically correct.
It looks like someone is writing for the NY Post.
Besides, what would Ken think?
He would think, “Damn. Dat ass, doe. Now daz whazzup! Can’t wait to see whaz undurr dat skurt!”. He might also think, “Oh wow, what a realistic portrayal of a beautiful woman! She doesn’t look like Cameron Diaz anymore! Praise Jesus! I feel much more at ease knowing that I no longer have to keep living up to the gold standard and I can be free to do things I want to do, like microbrewing, beard growing and developing a Dad Bod. Now I don’t have to play tennis all the time and pretend to enjoy her fashion shows! I bet she’d even want to read the Sunday Times with me!”. This is all me presuming that a physically realistic Barbie is also a thirtysomething hipster. Let me have my fantasies. Moving on…
“Hello, I’m a fat person, fat, fat, fat,” one 6-year-old girl sang
That’s just plain mean. I bet your mom also has hips like that after you came out of her. STOP MAKING FUN OF YOUR MOTHER! SHE LOVES YOU VERY MUCH AND MADE SACRIFICES TO BRING YOU TO THIS PLANET! Also, shame on The Post for immortalizing this bullying. You just taught her that whatever she said was not only okay, but worthy of her words being famous!
I’m 46 now, and still a big fan of Barbie. Despite all the push-back she’s been getting for not being a realistic body type, I’m a traditionalist who never felt Barbie was supposed to represent me: Barbie represented whomever I wanted her to be.
You didn’t have a rough childhood. Congrats. For the sake of every other girl you grew up with, wouldn’t you want her to represent something that would send positive messages to your peers that aren’t fortunate enough to have your cunning common sense?
My love for Barbie runs deep. Growing up, I probably had a dozen Barbie dolls.
What were you, poor? EVERYBODY HAD A DOZEN BARBIE DOLLS! LOSER!
Is it possible, with all the well-intentioned new, more “realistic” Barbie body types, that the classic Barbie will be bullied for not being multicultural enough?
Yes! Yes she will! We should bully everybody with a dangerous eating disorder and flat personality! Maybe that would prevent eating disorders! And what does body fat have to do with culture? Are you insinuating that Fat Barbie™ is Canadian? Because all Canadians are chubby? Because of the maple syrup? Because of the cold weather, they need more body fat, is that what you’re saying? Oh, wait, no. You meant that Fat Barbie™ is more cultured, because she has to use her intellect in order to impress the boys. Instead of baking and buying clothes, she reads comic books, goes to the museum and sees art house films. In that regard, yeah, let’s make fun of Classic Barbie! She’s dumb as a brick, has no desirable curves and worst of all, sculpted multiple generations of boring, 2-bit women that figured that they could find true love and happiness as long as they had a sparkling smile and the figure of an Ethiopian Gymnast.
All in all, I’m elated that the chubby kids of the world have something to look up to. When I was a kid, I had John Candy. But then I found out that he died. Then, it was Chris Farley. But then he died. After that was Drew Carey. But then I realized that he wasn’t funny. The Pillsbury Doughboy had no redeeming qualities. We finally live in a world where kids don’t have to suffer like I did!
– We got a buttload of snow last weekend, which means nothing but narrow sidewalks! I was running late the other day and was stuck behind this slow-walker dragging a cart. There was no possible way for me to pass him, but I refused to stoop so low as to walk at his pace. Naturally, I walked inches behind him. Halfway down the block, I decided to bail and climbed up the snow wall to cross the street. The guy turned to me and said, “You people are always in a rush! Aint got no time to appreciate good walkin’!” Instead of saying, “I had no idea proper walking was a racial thing”, I tumbled down the hill and slammed my knee into a parked car. The alarm went off and I ran away, because after all, I was running late. That showed him!
I got really sick the other day I never get sick, but the other day I kept on throwing up and couldn’t get off the couch because Obama. While I writhed on the couch, groaning in agony, certain images I saw on TV made me pull the blanket over my face. Over the years, I’ve developed triggers that make my sick body feel sicker. The Top 5 Blanket-Pulling Moments were:
5) Pootie Tang rubbing cherry pie all over his body
4) Betty White’s face
3) Any commercial for prescription drugs, complete with verbal groaning to drown out the announcement of side effects
2) Alex Trebek trying to sell me life insurance
1) The image of a bottle of Malt Liquor
Yeah, I have some issues…
– This weeks edition of Ad Nauseous is brought to you by New Era: The official hat of the Jacksonville Jaguars!
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– Try this trick over the weekend: Find a Champs Sports that’s actually open.
Have a Champy Weekend, everyone!