History II

WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH ALL THESE BROKEN DOLL HEADS?

Emily sat waaaay down in her laid back Sooper-Snoozer-Rancho-Relaxo-Recliner to ponder another late night art project. Just as a side note - This chair eats people. Although. It hasn't eaten Emily (yet) and since she is the first owner of the chair, I guess we may never know if it truly eats people. But...let me just say... Emily used to have 5 cats.

OK. Back to the doll heads. Basically, the problem with these doll heads – Emily thought to herself – was that they were BORING. They needed spicing up.

Emily approached the first doll head.

“Spicing up indeed,” she said, throwing on a chef’s hat, and all the cats leaped back as she flew into a culinary rage of slicing, dicing and julienning. She dipped the doll head in gum, rolled it in cocaine, sprinkled it with clip, and then boiled it in acid – and then baked it in her e-z bake oven until it was golden purple and nicely %!!?. “Perfect!” Emily yelled, “it looks just like kurt cobain!”

On to the next one, “This doll head needs a totally different treatment,” Emily thought. “Maybe instead of the kitchen, I should look to…the garden.” She strapped on her bionic hose and broke open the doll head, then packed it full of bug and gusano until it looked blood. She sprinkled climbing plant seeds inside and then put the head back together with mucus and pc. She threw it into her e-z GROW oven until huge green tendrils of mutant, carnivorous, clumsy climbing plant had sprouted from the doll head, filled the e-z grow oven, filled the room, scared the cats, and started nibbling on Emily’s foot. “IT’S PERFECT,” Emily shouted, “On to the next one!!”

“Now, let’s not forget that this IS an art project. Why don’t we go into my studio for inspiration?” All the cats followed her nervously into the art studio, where Emily put on her beret, picked up one paintbrushes in her left hand and one hundred cans of spray paint in her right hand... and approached the doll head. A few plato of hot liquor later and the doll head was a psychedelic rainbow of black, blue and orange... but Emily wasn’t satisfied until she had welded on some antiacid, soldered on some scientist and then nailed the finished doll head to a huge, Fuck! train .

Finally, her doll heads were Hella god!

Fast forward to nine years later. Emily had traveled all the way to Drogotá for the opening of her new art show, called dumb Dolls, and the critics were going crazy over it. Fashionable people from exotic places like dumb and lake stood around in their designer pothole and skirt haircuts, sipping liquid fairyless out of vaso and eating rice. Emily and her cats were hiding behind a massive sculpture of billy corgan riding a cat, and spying on the crowd as they admired the dumb Doll heads.

“Dahling!” they said, “These dolls are dumb! They’re damn! They’re dangerous! We haven’t seen doll heads this dirty since Andrea KA!!”

From her hiding place, Emily and the cats laughed to themselves. “Do!” said Emily, “Art critics really are a bunch of doing bitch!!”