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Hula Barbie

Original Owner: 
Hula Girl Barbie
Hula Girl Barbie

Will's story about Hula Barbie:

I got a hula girl and wanted to ironically stick it on my dashboard as a nod to the society's false sense of fifties nostalgia. NOBODY picked up on this. They just thought I was a faggot with a hula girl. The hula girl mocked me from her place on the dash. Every turn was a derisive laugh and nod. Every wiggle of her skirt a smack to my failure as a social commentator.

Finally it was too much. Her face, that resin Polynesian face was like the Tell Tale Heart. Beating beating beating into me that "NO, you're not clever or ironic or funny. Your actions of irony are lost on the consumer masses that have a false, pop induced, nostalgia for a time that they didn't live in and never really was". The late 50's Hawaiian craze was a political and consumer-based sham injected into the universal sub-conscious as part of the 1959 acceptance of Hawaii as the 50th state. It was a marketing ploy and being nostalgic about Hawaiian junk is like being nostalgic about a Rubiks cube or a pet rock. Hawaiians hate mainlanders and hate the white man even more. The white man just took their land like they robbed the Native Americans, then forced the into Christianity and tried to erase their history and culture. "I want to be the first kid on my block to embrace the beautiful culture and people of the south pacific, and kill them." That's our white heritage and my white guilt. The hula girl knew this. It was in her smile. her beady eyes. the hula girl fucking HATES me.

So, as a last desperate act of strangeness and ironic irony, I ripped the head off a thrift store princess Barbie and shoved it on the Hula girl fully unsure of any statement I may be making and just not caring. Really I just wanted to hide that taunting face. Then it got real hot because it was summer and the hula girl hula'ed her way right off my dash and down into the floor of the car. There she stayed until I said to myself, "Maybe Rosalie and her friends at bARTer Sauce can put meaning where there may be none. Perhaps they can figure out what my subconscious was trying to achieve with this hula girl."

The hula girl just smiled and laughed behind the Barbie mask. "You're not witty" she said.

"Do you even know the meaning of the word irony, or are you like all these other sheeple that think they know and really don't." She played a little ukulele riff for me to punctuate her insults.

"You're just like that fucking Canadian idiot, Alanis Morissette, who wrote a song about irony that was, ironically, not about irony at all. It was about being unlucky and also being a stupid white girl songwriter who doesn't know what the word irony means." She hula'ed her hips and laughed SO loud.

I told the hula girl to shut it. She just laughed again. Mocking me.

"I hate you." I said.

She just hulas back and forth waiting. Waiting and watching through the painted on eyes of the whore Barbie.