Tuesday, 05 September 2000 19:00

Letters To Santa

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Barbie's Letter To Santa:



Dear Santa,



Listen you fat little troll, I've been helping you out every year, playing at being the perfect Christmas Present, wearing skimpy bathing suits in frigid weather, and drowning in fake tea from one too many tea parties, and I hate to break it to ya Santa, but IT'S DEFINITELY PAY BACK TIME!



There had better be some change around here this Christmas, or I'm gonna call for a nationwide meltdown (and trust me, you won't wanna be around to smell it). So, here's my holiday wish list for 1999, Santa.



1. A nice, comfy pair of sweat pants and a frumpy, oversized sweatshirt. I'm sick of looking like a hooker. How much smaller are these bathing suits gonna get? Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon and velcro up your butt?



2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. Preferably white. What bonehead at Mattel decided to cheap out and MOLD imitation underwear to my skin?!? It looks like cellulite!



3. A REAL man... maybe GI JOE. Hell, I'd takeTickle-Me-Elmo over that wimped-out excuse for a boytoy Ken. And what's with that earring anyway? If I'm gonna have to suffer with him, at least make him (and me) anatomically correct.



4. Arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is anatomically correct.



5. Breast reduction surgery. I don't care whose arm you have to twist, just get it done.



6. A jog-bra. To wear until I get the surgery.



7. A new career. Pet doctor and school teacher just don't cut it. How about a systems analyst? Or better yet, a public relations senior account exec!



8. A new, more 90's persona. Maybe "PMS Barbie", complete with a miniature container of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream and a bag of chips; "Animal Rights Barbie", with my very own paint gun, fitted with a fake fur coat, bottle of spray on blood and handcuffs; or "Stop Smoking Barbie," sporting a Nicotrol patch and equipped with several packs of gum.



9. No more McDonald's endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl.



10. Mattel stock options. It's been 37 years-I think I deserve it.



Okay Santa, that's it. Considering my valuable contribution to society, I don't think these requests are out of line. If you disagree, then you can find yourself a new bitch for next Christmas. It's that simple.



Yours Truly,



Barbie



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Ken's Letter To Santa:



Dear Santa,



I understand that one of my colleagues has petitioned you for changes in her contract, specifically asking for anatomical and career changes. In addition, it is my understanding that disparaging remarks were made about me, my ability to please, and some of my fashion choices. I would like to take this opportunity to inform you of some of issues concerning Ms. Barbie, and some of my own needs and desires.



First of all, I along with several other collegues feel Barbie DOES NOT deserve preferential treatment - the bitch has everything. I, along with Joe, Jem, Raggedy Ann & Andy, DO NOT have a dreamhouse,corvette, evening gowns, and in some cases the ablility to change our hairstyle. I personally have only 3 outfits which I am forced to mix and match at great length. My decision to accessorize my outfits with an earring was my decision and reflects my lifestyle choice.



I too would like a change in my career. Have you ever considered "Decorator Ken", "Beauty Salon Ken", or "Out Of Work Actor Ken"? In addition, there are several other avenues which could be considered such as: "S&M Ken" , "Green Lantern Ken", "Circuit Ken", "Bear Ken", "Master Ken". These would more accurately reflect my desires and perhaps open up new markets.



And as for Barbie needing bendable arms so she can "push me away," I need bendable knees so I can kick the bitch to the curb. Bendable knees would also be helpful for me in other situations - we've talked about this issue before.



In closing, I would like to point out that any further concessions to the blond bimbo from hell will result in action be taken by myself and others. And Barbie can forget about having Joe - he's mine, at least that's what he said last night.
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