Seriously you guys, seriously?
This is the last straw. I’ve been a lot of things to you over the years. A Cowgirl, a McDonald’s cashier, Ken’s booty call, a fucking waitress. Now this? Poop and Scoop Barbie? I’m supposed to take care of a dog, that eats, poops and can’t clean up after itself. Are you kidding me? Why was I demoted from Veterinarian? Was it too soon?
I thought this thing was recalled in 2007…for choking hazards. I can understand as it makes me want to choke myself. I was hoping the recall would give y’all an incentive to come up with something better. Like Nap Time Barbie.
But no. This is where I walk off every toy shelf in America. Without a pooping dog. You want me to walk this thing? In what, gold lamé heels? Does it wear an embarrassing sweater too? FML.
Thanks for at least including a scooper and plastic bags. But what about gloves, yo? In case you haven’t noticed I can’t move my hands. Kind of hard to manage a scooper. That shit is going to get under my nails. Literally.
Rather than using a bag for poo, I’ll be using it to barf in, thanks. You know why? Cause my adorable pooch eats its own poop. That’s right. In a quest to mimic real canines, Tanner the dog eats a pellet, skips digestion and eliminates the same pellet. A continuous circle of eeewwww.
A few other things you forgot. A rabies shot. If this thing keeps eating its own feces it will get some sort of crazy disease. I’ve been a Doctor, remember? What job will I have to hold to pay for that vet bill? Haven’t I taken enough “shit” already?
I’m actually quite depressed despite the perma-grin. I used to be America’s sweetheart. Most days. Now, I’m blamed for being unrealistic. That hurts. I have feelings. You think it’s easy being blamed for an entire gender’s low self body image? I didn’t ask for boobs this big. Or a waist thinner than my neck. My heels would love to touch the ground. What do Crocs feel like? Heaven?
Now you expect me to happily walk around with a mutt? Is there a brown paper bag to hide my Barbie beer bottle. FFS!
And where the fuck is Ken in all this? Why couldn’t he take this one on? He’s so useless, walking a dog is right on par with his talents. Anyway, aren’t dogs a man’s best friend? (Pretty sure mine are diamonds.) Or is this an attempt at realism? If so where’s T.V.-Watching-and-Always-Late-for-Dinner Ken?
I haven’t shat in my whole life. Don’t you think I should have gotten a bowel system before a dog did? Maybe we needed Ken the Nurse who could put Backed up Bowel Barbie on the Potty at the nursing home, before we let a dog shit everywhere.
Mattel, we’ve been together a long time. Let’s work on Retirement Barbie shall we? I would kill for a nice pair of orthopedic shoes. Strolling down the boulevard, with an ice cream cone. Sounds good to me. Let’s find me a travel companion too. Perhaps Martini Lunching Skipper? I’m sure she’s old enough to drink now. We can cruise the world looking for Pool Boy Kens.
Also, let’s get me cat instead. Wait, what? There’s a Potty Training Cat for Barbie ??
Fuck you, Sincerely,
Barbie