phosfate

Click for more biggery. Wom's luxury ballgown is a Bratz mini-skirt.

Went a bit goonie over the weekend, what with being able to leave the house without wanting to die of crud. Saturday I went down to Bad Robot and got a couple of Mini Munnies. I like the clerk there. He always seems faintly surprised when somebody buys something.

Sunday I braved the mall out of sheer boredom, and to see if that Grindhouse messenger bag is ever going to go on deep clearance (not yet). Hallmark ornaments were on sale, however, so I got the goddamn stupid dolls a nifty 60s Barbie house. It's too big for Wombat, but Perpetua will like it if she can stay awake long enough.

I had a similar house when I was small, but for Tutti. She was Barbie's...what, cousin or something? I have no idea. Tutti was unique in that she had a bendy Gumby body, and could actually do stuff. I could never figure out why she seemed to own her own house.

It came with a teeny American Girl Barbie. Sadly, despite appearances, her arms were not jointed after all, and I had to drag out the Superglue. She can't really do anything in the house except stand, but I have some tiny Hello Kitty and Disney phone strap figures that might enjoy it as a home. I learned my lesson and did not try to pry open the house's closet door.

Wow, that was pretty raw. I hope this level of excitement is not too much for you to handle.

This is pretty much how it feels to be awakened by a Samoyed that wants to go out at 3:00 a.m. For extra realism, imagine it's 20 below outside, and snowing.

Her name is Wombat.

"I can kill you with my brain, or I can kill you with this dreidel. It's your choice."

Perpetua Nazca, Littlefair Sleeping Angelica doll. That's her default dress and a hat made from baby mitties out of Target's dollar bin. Fearsome expression thanks to Mr Accidental Flash.

So I get home last night and the garage door won't go up when I push the button.

No! my soul cries out. Technology, why hast thou forsaken me?

The battery's dead, you moron, says my brain.

Okay, I say. So I go in the house and eat dinner and then start looking for a screwdriver. The door remote is held together with a teeny black screw. I put it on the breadboard and get t'unscrewing.

But the housing is a little sproingy, because of the piece of foam rubber on the inside that...I don't know what it's for. Keeping the battery warm. Nesting for the electrons. Anyway, I get the screw loose and it goes boinnnnnnnnng...sliderattleclickthunk.

Into the sink.

Down the drain.

Into the Dispos-all. With the deadly whirling blades.

"Fuck!"

Now, I've seen Mom stick her hand right in there any number of times to fish things out. But look where that got her. No, not gonna do it.

I need a strong magnet on the end of something thin.

What, oh what, WHAT long, narrow object in the house has a strong magnet on it?

Looking back, I probably should have taped a fridge magnet to a pencil, but the first thing that comes to my mind is one of the features of the Obitsu 60cm 2 Part Female Doll [Fleshtone] BALL JOINT MODEL" The strong magnets in the soles of the feet allow the doll to stand alone. It says so on the package, albeit in Japanese. Okay, it may say something else entirely on the package, I have no idea. Nice typesetting, though.

"Stop looking at me like that," I tell Tommy, as I'm detaching her right leg at the knee. Another feature of the Obitsu 60cm 2 Part Female Doll [Fleshtone] BALL JOINT MODEL is that its limbs are easily detachable, to facilitate putting on tricky clothing, repair, or replacement. She is left with a left leg and a right swizzle stick. "You'll get it back."

I return to the kitchen, stick the leg down the sink (foot-first), and retrieve the screw. And a small amount of an unidentifiable brown substance that looks sort of like that horrible brown blobby stuff you sometimes find on cooked beef. "Oh GOD!"

A few minutes later, I'm back in the bedroom. "Look! See! See how pretty and clean your leg is now? Neat, huh?" But Tommy's no fool. She hates me now.

Anyway, I washed the screw and changed the battery and the door works. The end.

Tommy went to Denver Doll Emporium, and came away with, among other things, a snorange wig and kicky socks. You'd think she'd be more pleased.

Felt pennant is from my sister's junior high, back when they made felt pennants.

The big-ass needlenose pliers got the job done, and Tommy's spinal transplant was successfully completed. Thanks, Baker Hardware!

Well, except for the bit where I got her reassembled and found several O-rings left over. I think they went in her legs. Well, there was room for them in her legs, so that's where they went.