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Where the Wild Things Shouldn’t Be

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When I get sick, I get kinda whiny. Okay, I get really whiny. I don’t want to do anything, I don’t want to talk to anyone, and I want to hide from the world on my couch, watch “Top Chef” and “Wife Swap” reruns with my kid. Unfortunately today, I was cursed with the dreaded “going shopping for one absolutely necessary item” trip to Walmart. To perk up the fact that I had to drive thirty minutes to get to Wally World for diapers (yes, we’ve moved THAT FAR OUT into the sticks), I began to look for a toy for my son. At least to make the trip fun, you know? While perusing the toy aisles, I came across this Yasmin, the Bratz Wildlife Doll.

Dude, are you kidding me? Now if you’ve read some of my other blogs, you may already know that I have a deep seated hatred for these dolls. I realize that some mothers think this kind of thing is perfectly acceptable. I however, am not one of these mothers. If I’ve offended you, I’m really sorry, but this is borderline plastic porn. 


Seriously, I think this company is still giggling at the “Let’s get Sandra” joke. At least, that’s what I have to assume if I’m going to keep my sanity. If not, this thing is actually geared toward kids my stepdaughter’s age, and that’s just insane. So, in true “Contemplations of an Army Wife” style, it is, in fact, time to make a list of things that suck. 


1. The Bratz are, most emphatically, not the “Only dolls with a passion for fashion.” Barbie pretty much started that trend. She had the house, the furs, the evening-sportswear-trendy and homemaker outfit lines. Barbie is global, for pete’s sake. Is there a Bratz doll wearing clogs, holding a milk jug and a tulip, standing in front of a paper windmill? Didn’t think so. 


2. Yasmin comes with a “collectable spotted leopard.” First, I’m surprised that the overpaid pedophilic bastards coming up with this doll can spell leopard. Second, what the hell makes it collectable? It’s not Christian the Lion, it’s a plastic, housecat lookin’ addition to a boxed set of nonsense. If that thing is a collectable, I have a rescue cat whose retardation came compliments of a Walmart bag (ironic, no?). She is also a collectable. Please feel free to e mail me with your bids. 


3. She is wearing thigh-high boots. Yep, you got it. If you need a second to look at the picture again, that’s fine. I’ll wait. Back? Good. It’s okay, I’m enraged about it, too. I might even be willing to give the manufacturer the benefit of the doubt, and assume that they are supposed to be knee high boots. I find myself at a loss, however, as this doll as a point A to point B, heel to where-the-sun-don’t-shine situation. There seems to be no indication that these boots are anything other than straight off of Hollywood Boulevard. So there will be no benefit of the doubt, other than I can only assume that this doll will, at some point, be sold with a doll sized bottle of penicillin. 


4. Her belt buckle is strategically placed in her crotch, and her other “outfits” are gold and copper lame, and her earrings are reminiscent of Usher’s “Yeah!” video. 


These terrifying plastic skankos are made by the same company that produce Fisher Price kitchens and baby Shrek dolls. I wonder if those fourteen year olds with the pregnancy pact had these in their old toy boxes? Congratulations, MGA, you have helped me decide that I am NEVER having a girl. How do you feel about things like this? Am I overreacting? And what are we teaching our girls (and boys) with toys like this?


Holy crap.

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