Market research has determined that processed artificial cheese goop is not disgusting enough, so this graphic that emphasized its unnatural color and staining properties as well as its unearthly drippy ooze-properties was called necessary.
Like every other bad thing, dyed chemical slop sludge now encourages its users to think they are talented, clever and powerful just for liking it. People don’t criticize cheez-whiz for being a science fiction nazi-like horror that goes against everything your intestines stand for, right? They’re just “haters” who can’t handle how unique and epic it is and that you also are for using it, and having simplified the issue like that you thus need not consider trying to see your behavior from another perspective.
It is true that I hate liquid processed cheese product and that this is not a nuanced issue that I have researched at length. However, some things simply deserve to be hated.
The first frozen burrito laboratory-tested and guaranteed to cause post-traumatic stress disorder. Nothing to hate there. I didn’t say I was going to give examples of hatable things! This cheese flavor is at least non-wet. My disapproval for cheese as colored ooze is enough that I temporarily overlook my disappoval for cheese as colored dust, though not enough that I accept salt-shaker as a funamental factor in nacho creation.
Anyway, which of these bad Barbie Christmas movies should we buy? Be not concerned that you cannot read the labels under this horrible lighting; these covers were not designed for readers.
It is BarbieTM AS Eden StarlingTM. But you know it is really BarbieTM playing the part because BarbieTM‘s charisma and screen presence are unmistakable, and you would know that if you had been watching
The Barbie Channel. Nobody bloops and polls quite like Barbie. The first bloop was likely the sound of Barbie dropping her TM into the pool.
Excuse me, that is Turbie. Totally different. Turbie does not get to pretend to be other people on film. Turbie just wears a folded towel out of a plastic bag on her head and pretends this is an astounding innovation. Barbie only shills for new and wonderful things like Barbie.
Do not be confused since they have both been seen on tv; that could just mean Turbie has been arrested on Cops 2.0 or sold into slavery on QVC. Turbie has never been seen on the Barbie Channel. The Barbie studio guards have been ordered to arrest Turbie on sight, and equip her with an iron mask and escort her to the north tower. You will never be king, Turbie! Your TM shall be confiscated and offered as turbute to the one true bie on the block.
To get back to the main topic, as a psychologically buried alternate personality of Barbie, Eden Starling’s name is marketable and trademarked, despite being a stand-in for Ebenezer Scrooge who caused much suffering during the prime years of his life and is not somebody whom children should emulate, because unlike Ebenezer Scrooge, Eden Starling is Barbie and pretty and perfect and glamorous and doesn’t have a scary name. Eden Starling knows that it’s what is inside that counts, which is why her cruelty did not “freeze [her]
old features” as happened to Scrooge. This film shows that you can turn your life around and be positive so long as you’re rich, young, unblemished and Barbie. I am curious how this handles the section in which Barbie orders a peasant to go out and buy Christmas dinner for her clerk costume designer and childhood friend.
“Do you know whether they’ve sold the prize can of Red Bull that was hanging up there? Not the little can; the big one?”
“What, the one as big as me?” returned the
“What a delightful
boy girl!” said Scrooge Starling. “It’s a pleasure to talk to him her. Yes, my buck doe! That should suffice to keep all the house hold awake all the day and provide ample liquid material to comprise the bileous humours which shall accompany more solid, less desirable nourishments during the traditional post-meal expulsion”
Barbie’s caloric intake fits in well with Victorian London, I now imagine. This is probably the only Christmas Carol adaptation in which the hardened protagonist could abuse people by encouraging them to take better care of themselves.
According to Barbie Movies Wiki, instead of Jacob Marley, Eden Starling is visited by Aunt Marie, whose cruelty in life was forbidding Eden/Barbie to celebrate Christmas. The ghost of Christmas Present informs Barbie that her coworkers tease her but actually want to be like her. In Christmas yet-to-come, Barbie fires her staff and the replacements “fail to live up to her expectations.” Barbie’s former servant became a famous fashion designer but would not help Barbie due to her past selfishness.
The moral of this story: be nice to Barbie, so Barbie can be nice to other people who will become famous so that they can also be nice to Barbie and not leave her to depend on people who aren’t good enough for Barbie, everyone’s idol. Instead of dying alone and having nobody want to go to her funeral and her belongings plundered, with children left to die from her stinginess, Barbie just loses some money and though she receives no charity her former friend will at least acknowledge her existence. I am fascinated by the idea of an official Mattel “visibly poor” destitute Barbie but I could only turn up parody editions while searching for “poor barbie” and I am certainly not going to watch this thing, although if I had done that instead of writing this I would have been done by now and would have been too heart-warmed to dare analyze it.
Barbie Movies Wiki also inadvertently contradicts the hype on the DVD box proclaiming this as the first Barbie Christmas movie, which was actually Barbie Nutcracker. Maybe Ken had the right idea all along.
Ah good, TMothy is back. Yet I wonder: What would happen if Mattel printed the name “barbie” without adding TM afterward? WHAT WOULD HAPPEN? Why does TM NEED to be there EVERY time? We know Barbie is powerful. She can handle it.
No foe has been able to stand up to Barbie since she was bitten by a radioactive box. They try and they fall down laughing.
So cruel, and yet so necessary.
I am thinking only of your best interests, bimshwel. Why will you not do the same for me?
How am i supposed to succeed in a world where 30 million people would look at this once willingly, or even slightly fewer millions than that more than once?
I don’t know what this video is; the content is beside the point. The point is that I never make it to the content because I don’t want to click on it. The content does not matter, unless multi-million people said to each other “hey watch this video; I swear it is good despite the unsightly punchable shouting scruffbag in the preview.” I did not have a person show it to me, just a lifeless robot that knows nothing of my interests but thinks it does just because it tracks the imaginary things that my mouse point touches.
The fashionably sad “goths” of the 1990s and the marketably sad “emos” they begot for the 2000s have somehow led to a giggly, artifically happy and positive yet somehow consistently vulgar, ostensibly progressive but subtly traditional-gender-role-reinforcing* “cuteness” that would make me vomit if I had a functioning gag reflex.
*I think I was referring to the tendency for those born male to disregard tradition-mandated ideas of what sort of activities and entertainment they should like but still maintain horrible facial hair. They don’t grow full beards but they keep the hair short so it seems more like dirt than something that had a biological function at one point. I can’t get over that they are alright with being men but won’t take advantage of the opportunity to have great wizardly beards. This may be a more irrational gripe than usual. I will let you know if I remember that I meant something else.
But it is worse than goths because it isn’t a subculture and there is nothing conspicuously, obliviously weird enough about it to laugh at. It is too common to not be normal. There is no bizarre wardrobe to go with it. Their fashion is notable for its lack of notability. They wear jeans pants and ugly t-shirts and draw pictures of themselves wearing that and using the internet and drawing pictures of themselves posting pictures of themselves on the internet. They thrive on being totally average, and they thrive on celebrating that they thrive on that.
Do you think I thrive on not liking that? I do not! I want to stop being aware of these things. I know I will never like them. They come looking for me. Because they are proud of themselves and have no self-regulatory functions they are highly likely to shove their existence into everyone else’s and dismiss anyone who criticizes their behavior as a “hater.” They’ve had Barney and Dora and Elmo telling them that they are special and unique and important since before they had any opportunity or means to do anything special, unique or important, so they believe that and will not believe otherwise, and they don’t have to because everyone else they know has had the exact same experience and they relate to each others’ unconditional enthusiasm. It is easy to enjoy life when you enjoy mediocrity. I should wish that I did, but I have had something better and was spoiled by it, and it left me behind. Satisfaction demands that I work for it, and then it laughs at me and goes drinking/clubbing/boring with mediocrity anyway.
I left this behind for two months, not wanting to post in a bad mood, and when I came back to it all i could think was how much I wanted to slap/shave this guy. Then I left it for two more months because I was busy with unsatisfying things but somehow it was still here waiting and taunting me. I am more mad now than then!
This is what happens when “geeks” become “cool.” Everything that’s totally uninteresting and not cool in the slightest amount is potentially “awesome” or “epic.”
What were the old biggest geek stereotypes? They lived with their parents, they didn’t clean themselves, and they had difficulty procreating. Well when everybody is a geek the third one solves itself, but the other two, essentially, acting like children, just get worse.
It probably is not fair to pick on this one fellow because he is probably singing and that’s just a face people make when they are singing, I suppose. Unless you are an anime character with a naturally triangle-shaped mouth, mid-song is the only time when that face should show up. But then the oaf might be yelling “AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH GUYS fuck.” And if he is singing, I still don’t want to look. I don’t want to look at anyone’s vain contextless head inside a room made out of communion wafers just emitting noise, but least of all this one’s. I hate that! You know I hate that! If everything I have said is a total exaggeration, the basic, initial fact remains that I do not want to look at this.
he looks like those stupid advice aliens from the space ship levels of The Lost Vikings.
He looks like Duke from Paladin’s Quest.
He looks like Tina Fey from this weird package of yogurt. What did the photography director say to Tina Fey? “Open your mouth like you are eating the yogurt whose label you are appearing on while trying to look at your own ear.”
This then reminds me of ronald mcdonald ecstatic to be drowning in apples and abandoned and dirty.
He looks like a model for Campbell’s Bag of Douchebag soup brand.
That guy back there, he looks like the only opportunity to use an uppercut against Don Flamenco. He looks like Timothy Speed Levitch. He looks like one of those people who every couple of years tries to get me to watch the pilot for “a kitty bobo” on youtube and laments that it was never made into a full series. He looks like someone who knows what dresden kodak is. He looks like someone who acted sad when Billy Mays got dead. He looks like somebody who would be in an “updated” revival of Rent.
I cannot compete with this because I do not understand it. I am going to dig a hole. I am finally going to start living under a rock as hacky writers across all disciplines who think their own self-focused niche is the toast of all towns have insisted I have been doing for the past 20 years anyway.
Unless you’ve been living under a rock to see that I am not there you probably assume I have been living under a rock.
What a dork of a gargoyle! With buck teeth, at that; you fool! That is less than three quarters of a euro! You can’t buy anything with that!
Gargoyle trouble is nothing new around here, alas. And the news only gets worse.
I was told the Paris trip would “change [my] life” but nothing could have prepared me to learn such ancient secrets. There is so much unknown knowledge in the world. But I must look and acknowledge.
And maybe I want him wear a wizard hat and big silly earmuffs but I imagine I won’t get mentioned on the heffalump post for saying so. I like to imagine the blue lumps in the lower corners are this person’s hands in boxing gloves.
I will not watch this oaf’s head and his closet and his cans of cooking spray and his television screen with bottles in front of it. I do not take obvious advice from somebody in such a hurry to video record his mouth any time words come out of it that he is oblivious to his own surroundings. My own room is a mess but if I were putting pictures of it on the internet I would know my room was a mess prior to somebody else seeing these pictures. I certainly do not take orders to receive advice from sources with really crummy taste in advice.
Then I don’t give a fuh hyphen hyphen kuh what she thinks. How about that! Or is that the whole point? I don’t know because the thoughts of others no longer matter to me! We can just scowl at each for eternity, would you prefer that? Don’t bother answering!
Aren’t rappers typically characterized by being vulgar and not caring what anyone thinks? how is this special? saying a rapper uses harsh language and minimally regards the views of others is like saying an anthropomorphous video game animal runs fast and has a bad attitude.
and shouldn’t “Socially Conscious” include giving a hump what people think? We need social consciousness to protect ourselves from people who don’t give flocks of consideration to what we think. How can you be conscious and willfully oblivious simultaneously? Am I supposed to be glad and want to support the career of this person who wants me to know that she thinks my perception is worthless?
To be fair, during the previous occasion in which I lost my mind over a stupid huffington puffington ost headline, it turned out to be a ruse just to get people to click on the thing, and the entire article an empty circle that only existed to support a provocative headline. I will not be the person to determine how this situation has been misrepresented to DARE me into looking at it because in the end I don’t enjoy having people yell at me angrily regardless of the beat behind it.
I am not going to support this click economy anymore. If the only way to make me look at something is to imply that I am inadequate, so that I must investigate, so to sort out the details and convince myself of my adequacy or become adequate through acquiring the knowledge, then I will simply not look. I do not know this writer and this writer does not know me. The headline writer cannot even decide on the most effective way to not type out the ehhhhhf word but still get internet edginess credit for implying that they said it (I find that works well). The acidic individual may well give consonants and punctuation marks what I think if we met but I know that we have not. I wrote up something specifically on the topic, we will see if I get to it.
is there no fuck trigger? Or do you tell people who ask for one that they are exaggerating the state of their psychological condition for attention and sympathy?
Why exuberantly celebrate this anyhow? are you glad that you need trigger warnings? A more appropriate title would be “oh trigger warnings. I must resignedly admit that these are preferable to being triggered.”
No, I am offended, or perhaps disgusted by the hyperbolic, always in love or always in hate attitude. Why sit on the ground nude in cold darkened grottoes if it puts you in a mood like this? Maybe I am just concerned.
My gripe is specifically with the gerund ing form, used so ubiquitously that it lost most meaning. It was meant to add emphasis, but since it never was not present, it only emphasized a lack of self-control or self-awareness. A desire to be unpleasant toward anybody who is not totally in on your babyish self-indulgence.
I think you just need to calm down.
Click here for the shocking exposé