Plastic Perfection Sucks
I awoke with a start. Something was wrong. My face felt tight, as if I had left a mud mask on overnight. I tried to sit up, but a weight on my chest made it difficult. Peering down, I saw jutting mountains where sliding molehills once existed. Good Heavens! I must be dreaming.
I shut my eyes, took a big breath, and instructed my brain to wake up. This time I opened my lids as far as they would go and saw … those mountains again … and freakishly long legs that dangled over the foot board. What was going on? Panic choked me. Lunging upward, I heaved my top heavy, stilt-legged body out of bed and stumbled to the mirror.
Plastic perfection gazed back at me. “Oh, no! Oh, please, no! NOT BARBIE!!! That’s not what I meant!”
A feminine voice laughed inside my head. “You asked for perfect and beautiful.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spied a peculiar sight. A miniature VW bug, banana- colored, was racing toward the door. A tiny woman with spiral gray antennas sticking out of her head, and spider vein tattoos located in the strangest places, sat at the wheel.
Be careful what you wish for.
March 25, 2009 No Comments
The Babe Takes Matters into Her Own Hands
A full moon the color of blood. Midnight. A courageous heart. Barbie closed the spell book. All the conditions were right. It’s tonight or never, girlfriend.
Dressed in black capri trousers, a black-ribbed turtleneck and black soft-soled flats, Barbie crept down the stairs of her three-story townhouse. She dare not wake her sister, Kelly. Kelly, the practical one, would try to stop her. Outside, she saw the little girl had parked her Banana yellow VW bug right in front. She took a moment to check the angle of her black velvet beret in the mirror and reapply a second coat of cherry red lipstick before starting the motor.
Once she cleared the playroom area, Barbie gunned the vehicle across the most dangerous part of the journey, the open hallway. The family cat patrolled these corridors hourly. Shifting into sixth gear, she put the petal to the floor. The bug shot across the white carpeted expanse in five seconds flat. When she hit the master bedroom, she turned off the engine and slid out of the car. Throwing her climbing gear over her right shoulder, she set off toward the towering bed. If everything went according to plan, she would began a new life tomorrow.
Please, please, let this work. I’m so tired of looking perfect and beautiful. I need a change and some different men in my life. I am so sick of Ken and GI Joe. I wonder what happened to Steve Austin, the Six Million Dollar Man? Those bionic parts … Focus, Barbie! You have one shot.
The final episode of Desperation Made Me Do It will post tomorrow!
Part IV Plastic Perfection Sucks
March 24, 2009 No Comments
For over fifty years, one woman has epitomized the California Beach Beauty. Waist length blond tresses, skin the color of a summer sunset, legs that go on and on … and on, a bosom Pamela Sue Anderson would envy …. only one woman possesses the whole package. Barbie.
For over fifty years, this paragon of perfection has been relentlessly pursued by different, yet equally determined men. Ken, the dapper playboy, a man who, despite his considerable charm and money has yet to win Barbie’s heart. GI Joe, who tried to abduct Barbie repeatedly via, helicopter, airplane, parachute, and army tank. But Barbie refused to be taken. She refused to relinquish her heart or her body. Barbie survived year after year, adored by millions of girls and women until one evening …
Check back tomorrow for Part III
The Babe Takes Matters into Her Own Hands
March 23, 2009 No Comments
BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR (evil genius laugh)
A five part short story
Desperation Made Me Do It
Spider vein tattoos in the strangest places. Spiral gray antennas sprouting out of my head. Oh, God! My expiration date was approaching–fast. Drastic measures were required. Immediately. I gathered my energy and made the biggest, baddest wish of my life. To increase my odds of success, I directed my plea to multiple female deities; Aphrodite, Isis, the blond in the pink satin belly dancer outfit, Samantha, the TV witch … whoever … I lit candles, a few sticks of incense, prostrated myself, and began to beg. “Please, please, please make me young, and beautiful, and perfect!”
Tune in tomorrow for Part II
March 23, 2009 1 Comment