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Ok, I'm a major Barbie torturer. First I rip their heads from their no-way-in-hell-anyone-could-ever-look-that-good-with-those-breasts-cuz-they'd-break-in-half bodies and then I paint them with blood red nail polish (only because real blood isn't an option). I may poke a few needles in their eyes and what not, but then the fun part comes when I toss their precious little heads into the fire and watch them burn. "Help me. Help me" they would cry if they had voices. And I would laugh at their pain. When the fire dies down and their heads are still visible (you can't really char rubber to ashes. It's not that easy), I dig them out of the ashes and shove sticks up into their plastic skulls and poke the sticks into the ground and take pictures of their warped, bloody faces and charred hair. BWOOOOAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!
I also like horses and cold dark places and rain and autumn and those stupid little childhood memeories of eating snow on the way home from school. :)
Ok, so all that Barbie devilishness was kind of immature. But if you've ever done it, you'd know that it can be quite the laugh. It also signifies (for me anyways) the dying of my childhood and the "beginning of a new era". Ok, so maybe not that last part, but it's like burning all your papers at the end of the school year. It means something.

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