Cripple Barbie

this is a picture of my Barbie doll

Picture of a Barbie doll (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I was playing with a friend’s kid the other day.  She’s awesome and smart and cute and funny, but she likes to play with Barbies.  She’s like I was at her age, though; she likes to shave their heads and pull off their arms and leave them lying naked and mutilated all around the house, so that’s all right.  She also likes to dress up Ken in Barbie’s clothes (which will only go on him if you leave them unbuttoned, if you’re curious), which is a refinement of the art that was lost on the pre-teen Little Blind Girl.  I was impressed.

She also likes to use props meant for other games and appropriate them for Barbie.  One of the props she reassigned this time around was a wheelchair; Barbie had gotten in a car accident driving her convertible after taking her “evening soothers” (don’t ask) and had to trade in four wheels for two and kick it in a wheelchair for a while.  This was fine until she got to her Dream House…and the wheelchair wouldn’t go in the door.

That’s right:  Barbie’s Dream House is not handicapped-accessible.  The imperfectly abled may not pass the threshold of Barbie’s home.  Gimps and cripples must sleep outside.  I was appalled at this message of intolerance and indifference to suffering that surrounds our children, insidiously infiltrating their still-forming minds and imparting a lasting disregard for the rights of others. We must stand up against this atrocity!  Well, not Barbie, because she’s now enfeebled, but the rest of us must stand up!

And then I remembered that, if Barbie were a real person, her height would be 7’2, her weight would be 101 pounds, her bust would be 39FF, and both her head and her waist would be 19″ around, and I was like, screw it.  Barbie can gimp it on the streets.  I’m done wheeling her bony butt around.  How’s that for a life lesson?

35 thoughts on “Cripple Barbie

  1. My sister has never forgiven me for a Barbie episode. She was somewhere with our mother, and while she was gone I hung all her Barbies with cord. She came home, saw her Barbie’s hanging ( you know, dead like) and got a tad upset. I thought it was rather funny. My parents didn’t think it was funny, . Of course this was before the days of “OMG . . . he’s a sick little SOB . . . we have to have him .checked out by a professional!” I jus’ got a good ol’fashion ass whuppin! My little sister needs to let this one go.

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    • Hee! That’s hilarious. Some kid somewhere is arranging his sister’s Barbies in different reenactments of murder scenes, complete with fake blood and little tiny weapons. That’s the one you’ve got to watch out for!

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    • Ah…the good ol’ days when a beat down was enough to get your kids in line instead of all the psycho babble nowadays. I never got beaten, my mom always reasoned with me, but I’m sure if I wudda made her mad enough I woulda gotten a whoopin. LOL…I always knew better than to mess with her!!! HAHAHA…I think hanging the Barbies was brilliant!

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  2. This was such a great one! You never cease to make me laugh! (even sometimes when you absolutely are dead serious and don’t WANT to make me laugh). Anyhow, I have lots of vivid memories of what you used to do to YOUR sister’s Barbies, but my silence can be bought….however, act quickly. That little girl, by the way, sounds like someone I would enjoy hanging out with. Bring on the Evening Soothers and let’s cross-dress our pets next.

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  3. Barbie should be doing a PSA – don’t take evening soothers and drive. you partake in evening soothers, you drive, you lose. friends don’t let friends who’ve had too many evening soothers cross-dress. or something.

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  4. Hilarious… absolutely hilarious – not Barbie being disabled you understand!! but the way you write about it
    My daughter preferred Sindy dolls .. did you have them in America?? much more normal looking and shaped !!

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    • I don’t think we had them, at least not where I grew up. I think part of the fun of Barbies when you’re little is how funny they look once they’re bald–all disproportionate and embarrassed-looking!

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  5. Am I the only one who is disturbed over this little girl’s imagination? Hahaha…scary. I thought my imagination as a kid was weird. LOL Awesome post. Does Barbie commit suicide for no longer fitting her unreachable stereotype?

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      • No wonder poor Barbie enjoys an occasional Evening Soother! I would too if I had to bunk with Strawberry Shortcake!!! Oh, that saccharine lump of cloyingly wholesome schmaltz in a silly pouf hat. Yes, our Barbie is definitely depressed. Forget Bob the Builder and call Dr. Phil immediately!

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