You Were Warned So Quit Your Whining--It's Creepy Doll Time

A funny thing happened after I posted those Creepy dolls a while back; people started to think of me when they encountered anything creepy doll-related. It's so flattering. I think. Maybe. Maybe not. Anyway, since people were kind enough to take time out of their day to send me nightmares, I figured I would be caring enough to share the love. I do, after all, care about you. And you. And you. And, yes, even you cowering in the corner. You will need to open your eyes. Thanks.

First there was a link to a video explaining the "other" side of the story forwarded by Oraeley. Beware of that video, though, because it can lead to hours of appalling YouTube video viewing. There is just SOOOO much freaky to behold.

Later there there were numerous people who sent me the story about how police smashed a window to "rescue" a reborn doll when it was mistaken for a real kid. I have to admit, I nearly fell out of my chair laughing at the story.

Then there was the story Pam sent me about edible dolls made out of marzipan. Check 'em out, they are tiny and certainly not appetizing in appearance.

Creepy? Yes. Edible? No. It turned out that part of the email forward was a hoax. Thank goodness.

Sadly, I can't say the same for the edible baby Gina and Modern Matriarch sent me. This is a cake, yo. A very expensive cake.

You know, I've always dreamed of eating a chocolate baby head. That cake is so (NOT) going to be my next birthday cake.

All those emails/tweets/messages got me to thinking. I realized that I hadn't noticed any action going on with the creator of my favorite dolls. I checked out ebay and discovered that the seller had closed up shop. Never one to be deterred, I turned to Google and asked him where or where she had gone.

At first Mr. Google was all HEY! RICHARD SIMMONS HAS DOLLS! And I was all, huh? What? It turns out that Richard Simmons does indeed have a doll line. So I asked self, "Self, whatever in the world is he doing with a doll line?" Self replied, "Self, take a look at one of those dolls. Obviously, he's making them so that people will end up too freaked out to eat."

Tell me that thing doesn't look exactly like Richard Simmons in drag. I guarantee that if you still that thing in your fridge, you'll lose ten pounds in a week.

Since you won't be eating them anyways, you can always use apples to make some dolls. No, really. People use dried apples to make doll heads. See:

The do get cuter when you put the heads on some sort of body.

Or not.

The problem with the apple head dolls is that they just aren't realistic enough. This is a little more like it.

Actually, I take it back. That one is not realistic enough. THIS one is the realistic, um, queen? Princess?

Um, yeah. I really, really, really, really don't want to know who or what buys life-size excessively realistic dolls. Oh, and your welcome that I censored the image. The original? Will burn your retinas.

After a VERY brief venture into Googling realistic dolls in search of my favorite creator, I came across some not realistic but still creepy images.

Dolls should have faces. Not like the apples up there, but they should have faces. Please and thank you.

How about this face?

Ha! I just heard you jump out of your chair! That doll is intentionally creepy. The lady who makes them obviously has an interesting sense of humor. I think we could be friends.

After that foray into my next Halloween project, I found her. Yes, I found my favorite reborn doll creator. She was hiding in plain sight once I correctly remembered her name. The good news is that she's been busy lately. The bad news is that she is now charging $700 per doll. I guess I'll never get to have this precious widdle baby:

I'm sad, because really, she's fantastic. Oh, the fun I could have pushing her around in a stroller and letting the Toddler drag her by a leg . . . It's a shame. Really. I mean, look at her! Realistic veining! Realistic hair! Realistic crabby face!

You're welcome.

Earning Her Keep

(BTW, there is a Freaky Doll post coming Monday night. Consider yourself warned, y'all who whine about them.)

Girls Gone Wild

Mr. Husband was gone ALL day today for some sort of concert thing or whatever (I seriously don't actually know exactly where he was or what he was doing and it's probably better that way), leaving us girls to our own devices. Miss Alexis and I discussed what we should do with our alone time, and eventually ended up debating whether we should spend it doing some very serious potty training or shopping. Then I came to my senses and we trekked out to the car.

Off Alexis and I went, spending most of our day running from the mall to a store to another mall then off for dinner together before heading out to some more stores. We've done the all-day shopping spree thing before, so I know Alexis is 100% game for whatever I throw her way, just as long as there is snacking and shoes involved.

As we were nearing the end of our mall escapades, my dear sweet daughter dropped a deuce to end all deuces. I'm pretty sure every mom in the play area a story below us paused to check their own kid as we rushed past on our way to take care of it because that sucker had an olfactory radius several miles wide. I long ago stopped carrying a diaper bag and instead just keep the necessary supplies in the back seat of the car. So through the lot we rushed and I opened up the car door and discovered . . . nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Apparently, he who most recently changed a diaper using the car supply neglected to mention that he thought maybe he used the last diaper. He who shall remain unnamed is just lucky that he actually changes diapers or I might be preparing a stern lecture or two.

I couldn't stomach the thought of containing that odor in the car as we drove over to pick up a package of diapers, so we ended up having the opportunity to accomplish both tasks we had earlier contemplated. Now that I've had the joy of having a not-quite-yet potty-trained kid going commando in the car, I've decided that it is the only thing that come close to equaling the stress of playing chicken with the gas gauge. Keep in mind, this is the same car which I am constantly scolded about because I *brace yourself* sometimes leave a receipt or two and a few straw wrappers in it. I'm pretty sure Mr. Husband would have blown all remaining gaskets if he had been there as we potty-trained while driving for fifteen minutes. Fortunately, we survived our commando mission.

Later we decided, OK, I decided, that ice cream needed to be part of the plan. Ice cream is at the top of my food pyramid, obviously, because watching Alexis eat it is a form of torture. She manages to suck out most of my joy as she eats it sooooo slowly that it's usually completely melted by the time she gets to the third bite. It would be so much easier if she would just let me help, but it's always, "No, I do it." So I have to maintain a safe distance as I pray she doesn't end up looking like she went swimming in a pool full of bright blue ice cream.

Today was a little different, however. Alexis ate it EVEN slower than usual. It seems that she was horribly distracted by a four or five-year old little girl who was standing outside, right by the big glass wall. Remember the old Madonna video where she's doing a peep show behind glass? That is EXACTLY what the little girl was doing. Seriously. I don't think the glass at Baskin Robbins has ever seen that kind of action. Alexis couldn't stop staring and eventually I just scooped her up thinking that it wasn't worth waiting to see if she was considering joining in on the dancing or what.

As we walked out the door, I realized that the little girl had been singing at the top of her lungs as she was grinding on the glass (I wish those weren't the right words to describe it, but they are). As we walked past, she wailed, "Do you like my booooody? Do you think I'm seeeexy"

Yeah, so that was special.

(I will never again complain about listening to Signing Time endlessly in the car. At least my kid only sings things like, "When I say jump, I wanna see you jump."

I'm thinking Alexis and I need to schedule another Girls Day Out soon. Preferably of the stripper-free variety.