1.11.2005

Next up, Intersexual Infants



I found this baby during my night out on the town with L. Lo, and I have an inkling that it might belong to her. One would think she'd have the decency to clothe the poor bastard before carelessly stuffing him into her tic-tac of a Gucci bag, but then again Manolos don't come in infant dimensions and Donna Karan, though seasoned in the art of adorning eating disordered celebrities in near infant-sized apparel, does not market a product line for the 12-inch and under crowd.

But at least, at LEAST, she could have the decorum to smack a pair of undies on this poor genderless creature. I'm not sure, but Victoria's Secret probably makes panties (manties? infanties?) in it's size. I mean seriously, have you SEEN what those sick perverts call an XS? Shit wouldn't even cover one of my hair follicles without busting a seam, but I'll bet it's perfect for the satin-savvy neonate with a wicked sense of style. Incontinence be damned, 2K5 is all about that sex appeal.

I feel sorry for babies with ambiguous genitalia, really. I mean, who wants to be a genderless entity with no sense of self in those wee early stages of life? Not to mention, what self-respecting young human wants to OWN said genderless entity as a toy (besides Lindsay Lohan that retarded lesbian)? As a child, I wanted my toys to have pee-pee's or sho-sho's, and if they didn't comply to my standards then I found a way to fashion some form of pudenda to their hollow plastic shells. Just because they're flammable doesn't mean that they don't deserve a gender, people!

When my brother was born, my mom bought me a gender-specific babydoll that looked like a REAL INFANT with a REAL PENIS. I think she was anticipating that a pecker-wielding toy might keep me occupied in a way that would require less of her parental supervision. Well, she got what she deserved for abandoning her only near-perfect offspring for the one who now spends his days pondering the functionality of a gravity bong. He also has this deranged tendency to smell everything from screwdrivers to toothbrushes, not to mention his incorrect pronunciation of words like "cimmanon" and "mazagine" until early adolesence.

Anyway, when she gave me that little baby I was so excited because a) I finally got to name something I owned STEPHAN and b) I could take him to kindergarten show-and-tell and, for once, truly SHOW-AND-TELL. My baby didn't eat or cry and his limbs were stiff and rubbery, but he was my favorite toy because he had a penis, and little girls like me ain't got no love for toys without the junk. I also enjoyed using him as a voo-doo doll for a few years before I learned that I didn't need no stinking doll to inflict physical trauma on my baby brother. After he became too big for me to continue beating him down with my fist, I sprung for the psychological trauma of using the baby to teach him about sex.

Babies... they got it going on in all the ways your drunken prom date could only dream of. And then some.

Comments:
I laughed a lot when I read this. Then I pondered and worried for a while, then I decided to just laugh and not think too hard on it.... I'm going to have nightmares about genderless dolls tonight thankyou very much missy.
 
Poor masses of genatalia-free dolls. I'm going to cry.
 
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