why did we ever part?

So, I admit it. I'm one of those people who somehow decided they needed to recreate some part of their childhood with plastic toys. And in this weird state of... stupidity, I went to 2 Walmarts, 2 Eckerds, and 1 Walgreens in search of a doll with cute little buns [odango!] on her head. Because I'm a dork like that. But I'll be damned if my inner impy didn't do a freakin' happy dance when I went into K*B and saw a whole damn army of them smiling [okay, smirking] at me. And I went back in, gave my [mother's] money to the little teenage boy, and bought Nolee a friend in the form of Chelsea who became a Talula when we came home because that was the song on at the time of her free-ing. Sorry, T.

Wheee. Saving up for my ticket to RotK and various presents. Fear not. Anyone who doesn't want a talking Rufus stuffed animal should speak now. [I kid, I kid. Who the hell wouldn't want Rufus?]

I bring this up because I killed my feet in the search and because I'm sifting through my mail from a My Scene list. That and the mudslide I had earlier contained far too much booze and I'm happy. Not drunk, not sloshed, not even tipsy. But happy. Because I manned the blender and didn't run screaming from the noise. [um, and I didn't paint the kitchen a loverly brown color by having the lid fly off. ;) ] God, now I remember why I stopped loving action figures. Well, money was part of it, as was the annoyance that at the time the damn female figures were packaged one to a box if you were lucky... and there was always some ass ready to buy six freakin' cases just to resell them without the goodies. Who knew people sunk so low as to do that with Barbies? o_O

And to top the more than decent day off, I watched Murder by Death with mumsy.

Aren't you bored yet? Move along.

*snickers softly at the thought of a Lindsay Lohan/Hilary Duff fued*