Friday, May 29, 2009

The Evil of the American Girl


I announced in http://phantomofpulp.blogspot.com/2009/03/meet-girls-from-stepford.html that the American Girls are here. They're not coming soon. They're not waiting around the corner. THEY ARE HERE.

The March 2009 catalog is a deathlist of more troubling developments and heinous events.

Somehow, they've penetrated the music conservatory. Some will be fooled by their "perfect harmony". I won't. At least I don't think I will.

This one's waiting for your call. I suggest you "lose" her number.

Clever idea. Covering those John Wyndham eyes with sunnies.

Is that a coffin she's sitting up in or a bed? I could have sworn it was a coffin.

And what the fuck is it with Bennett and Yank, little Molly's hellhounds? Yank?! Bennett? Who named these two?

Yeah, bring home your "Bitty Baby" and say goodbye to your future.

Pity the unfortunate blond moppet (pictured) who is yet to taste the bittersweet nectar of synthetic homicide.

Ah, the bliss of ignorance. Better make the most of your day on the town, girls, because it will be your last.

Note the malicious, future thinking grin on the dial of the doll in green.

What pretty evil these maidens bear.

The "finding friendship" mini-essay above refers to a group of "mean girls" who are making it hard for Chrissa to fit in. Her dilemma is: Will she side with Sonali (sounds like a foreigner!) or Gwen?

Well, she decides to go with the local lama instead.

Say a prayer for the gullible beast.

The Spring catalog of plastic killers promises: "She'll look her best in a new Spring doll dress."

Unfortunately, our covergirl will be lucky to live beyond bedtime.

When this doll strikes, it's blood- and brain-splattered sheets all the way!

6 comments:

  1. Fancy a vacation Phantom? Why not visit La Isla de las Munecas--a tourist attraction riddled with the remains of creepy gnarled/decomposing dolls in the canals of Mexico City!

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  2. Please tell me more about this La Isla de las Munecas, d. Have you been there? It sounds like heaven.

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  3. Coincidentally, I was just reading an article about it on Bizarre's site before I read this post and it seemed a natural segueway. For some reason I cant paste the url here.

    The story is that a hermit chose to live on the island, away from his family, for over 50 years. He believed he was being haunted by a girl who drowned and turned the island into a shrine of discarded dolls and doll parts to appease her. These are strung up and nailed over the entire island, exposed to the elements and thus look rather ghastly.

    Apparently it's a hike to get there but as I was reading I immediately thought this would be your kind of fun.

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  4. d -- I did some research, too, and found a couple of videos about the place on youtube. I am now determined to go there. Such a fascinating backstory.

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  5. Regarding Chrissa and her feeble yet touching attempts to fit in, I am sorry to note there is in fact not one, not two, but three mean girls in this sad little story- the third member of this triumvirate of evil being the wicked old grandmother, who has 'advised' the unsuspecting Chrissa to impress her vacuous ill-tempered friends by showing off her new investment portfolio- a herd of alpaca.

    Of course the joke will be on poor Chrissa; there will be tears and gnashing of plastic teeth when the mean girls start laughing and dancing about like a coven of witches over a cauldron, and break the news to Chrissa that the arse has in fact fallen out of the alpaca industry, and her granny has given her the shittiest piece of investment advice since Randolph hollered across the stock exchange floor, "Pork bellies!! Sell, Moritmer, Sell!"

    What a miserable old bitch granny is!

    Or is it possible Grandma is not the cunt I think she is, and simply has dementia??

    Either way, poor Chrissa pays, financially and socially, alas...

    It's a cruel, 'dog eat alpaca' world...

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