barbie balls


Wigs Untangled Ch.01 Ep.01 is up on my Youtube channel <3


I cannot stress enough that two time Tony Award Winner Andrea Martin played the villain in Barbie as the Island Princess and she sang a weirdly dark song to her pet rats (one of whom is a mime) about how she married an old man with a heart condition for money and in no uncertain terms intends to murder the ruling family.


Went to a Target in San Francisco and I was surprised to see all the new dolls!

The first Courtly I grabbed had such awful glue over her entire forehead.

Target also had the Made to Move Barbies, but at $37. All of the San Francisco Targets have them listed at $37. The surrounding areas have them for $15.

Days Go By

Originally posted by justjensenanddean

Pairing: husband!Dean x wife!Reader
Word count: 402

Like Father, Like Son

Dean walked back in the bunker, dropping his bag as he walked in on January 3rd. “Baby! I’m home!” He called out, surprised that he didn’t hear his kids running to him, or you greeting him with open arms. Furrowing his brows, he started looking through every room. Their rooms looked a bit cleaner, but he thought nothing of it. You were always trying to downsize.

It was what was lying on his pillow that killed him. Your wedding bands, and a note.

Guess you really are a Winchester.

Like father, like son.

It felt as though his world came crashing down around him. His eyes never left the note as he sat on the side of the bed. Taking a deep breath, tears starting to fall as he opened his hand. Your simple wedding ring set was in his palm, mocking him.

He had no way to know when you’d left, but he did know where you would go. You would go straight to your sisters. She was your best friend, and knew all about what he did.

The words from the paper were eating at him. It didn’t take him long to realize what you meant. He’d been on the road, hunting, missing birthdays, Christmas’s, first steps…everything. His chest ached and sobs shook his body. Clutching your wedding ring set, he couldn’t remember ever hurting this badly. Sam was off on his honeymoon, and Dean had no idea how long he’d be unreachable.

– Jan 4 –

He’d barely slept, waking up feeling like a zombie. Shuffling through the bunker to the kitchen, it felt like all the life was sucked from his home.

All day, he went through the motions. Constant reminders of his family hitting him, never letting the pain ease up. Barbie dolls, soccer balls, stuffed animals, kids books, and tiny shoes. Each one cut him deeper and deeper.

– Jan 7 –

Dean was barely holding it together. He couldn’t sleep in the room he had shared with you, the bed where he held you, where he’d made love to you. He slept in a spare room. If you could call it sleeping.

Come lunch time that afternoon, he caved. There had been no texts, no calls, nothing. He was going insane. The thought of eating just made him sick. Grabbing his cell phone, he called your sisters house, hoping that you’d talk to him.

Merry Christmas, Dean
Didn’t Make It

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Dying -Baekhyun

kpopandanimelover: Baek angst scenario, tiltled “Dying” when his girlfriend didn’t make it during the surgery and due to the loss of blood?

A/N: There’s a very sensitive topic within this scenario and if anyone notifies me that it made them uncomfortable I can delete it and rewrite it with no hesitation. Please leave feedback.

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you can tell them apart by their kitchens. the mothers with epcot sweatshirts and vanilla-scented mini vans have cupboards full of sugary cereal, the kind you yearn for in the grocery store, chocolate frosting dreams your mother never buys. after school their counters overflow with chocolate chip cookies baked straight from the tube. they ask over and over if you’ve eaten enough. they want you to stay for dinner. their daughters have cheeks like red delicious apples and loud, musical laughs. they have a trampoline in their backyard and a golden retriever named sparky. their house reeks holiday yankee candles, imprinted everywhere with child hands: painted all in crayon masterpiece, barbie dolls and soccer balls. oversized television screens and blow up swimming pools. they are loud and alive. sunk in modular home suburbia. fleece blanket warm.

the mothers with manicures and shiny new suvs buy only the newest, most expensive health foods. items circled in simple living magazines. chia seeds and almond oil. after school they remind their daughters that dinner is in 3 hours. their fridge is a desert of diet coke and non-fat yogurt. when you stop eating, they ask you for your secret. if only their daughters were as dedicated to perfection. if only they could lose ten pounds. you lie and say braces make you small. their houses are overbright, stark white modern. vases full of sticks, lemongrass air freshener. stiff and expensive. laminate and granite. all childhood erased. their daughters are ghosts with straightened hair. they are silent and screaming. piercing plasticity. reminds you of the light dentists shine so they can see everything, every chipped tooth, every spot on your tongue. a cold that burns. 

Chain letter email #94

A man walks into the toy store to get a Barbie doll for his daughter. So he asks the assistant, as you would, “How much is Barbie?”

“Well,” she says, “we have Barbie Goes to the Gym for $19.95, Barbie Goes to the Ball for $19.95, Barbie Goes Shopping for $19.95, Barbie Goes to the Beach for $19.95, Barbie Goes Nightclubbing for $19.95, and Divorced Barbie for $265.00.”

“Hey, hang on,” the guy asks, “why is Divorced Barbie $265.00 when all the others are only $19.95?”

“Yeah, well, it’s like this….Divorced Barbie comes with Ken’s house, Ken’s car, Ken’s boat, Ken’s furniture…”


The Debutante by Plastic Beauty
Via Flickr:
Vintage American Girl Barbie wearing one of my favorite ensembles: “Debutante Ball” (1966-67).

Why My Dad is the Most Dad of Them All

My dad is the father of four children, and if every child serves to increase one’s concentration of “dad-ness,” then my dad is at max capacity. I am the oldest, and certainly the strangest of his children (but I got it from him). In honor of Father’s Day, I would like to tip my hat to the best father I’ve ever had.

To be fair, I’ve only had one. I also don’t wear hats, so I really don’t have anything to tip. I always have Cheetos, though. I tip my Cheeto to you, dad.  

Here are just a few reasons why my dad is most dad of them all:

1. He once told this joke:
“Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Clean your room.”

2. He loves mowing the lawn.
Some of my most vivid summer memories involve my dad stomping into the house with his grass stained clothes, and handing us something that he found in the yard saying, “HERE! I ALMOST MOWED THIS!” Barbie dolls. Ping pong balls. Books. Science projects. Shoes. A lot of slap bracelets (it was the 90s). It made him absolutely crazy. I felt like he would come in the house every day with something new, shouting, “I almost mowed this!! LOOK WHAT I SAVED. STOP LEAVING STUFF IN THE YARD.”

And yet, it couldn’t have been every day because not even my dad loves mowing enough to do it every day. 

One time he came in with an entire basket of toys and dropped it in front of my sister and I. It was full of baseballs, tiny doll shoes, pencils, an umbrella, and various other odds and ends.

“THIS was ALL in the yard. And I almost MOWED IT. YOU ARE GOING TO BREAK MY MOWER,” he said, and stormed away.

My sister shrugged and turned to me, “I think he loves finding stuff in the yard. I leave things out there on purpose. It makes him secretly happy.” 

3. He shares the news.                                                                                  My dad wakes up at 5:00 a.m. every day so that he can read all of the news, and he will tell you the most graphic parts over breakfast.
“Good morning, you will never guess who was decapitated.”

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