(no subject)

I wanted to call new doll Tommy, but she gave me all kinds of shit until I suggested Gilda. This will be a relationship based on the butting of heads. Fortunately, mine is bigger and all full of wet, heavy meat, in a crunchy shell. I have punished her by putting her in my Lain doll's bear pajamas for the day.

I'm testing out various doll and bear clothing from the stash to see what fits her. Found a nifty punkish skirt in there that is too small, but can be made into one of those doofy-ass half-kilts the Japanese BJD outfit designers seem to think are a good idea. All very punk and hardcore, I'm sure. A vintage homemade doll outfit, one that probably made its original model feel very foolish indeed, becomes a sassy resort ensemble with bare midriff (ignore the ancient Tang stain). She's also got a chemise and bloomers (from the antiques mall, though almost certainly not antique, since they're machine stitched and cost two dollars), and a tank and boxers. If I could find her a properly-sized can of beer and The F.B.I. on DVD, it'd be just like having Dad around.

Found some nifty thin socks in my monkey bag, so I can make her legwear with proper ribbing.

Sent away for a couple of test wigs. Apparently I'm a bigger fan of Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby than I'd ever have thought.

dammit!

Why is the Pink Panther Flakes cereal jingle stuck in my head?

ETA: "Pink Panther Flakes, are pink, and sweet and sugar frosted. Tickle me pink."