Tag Archives: Babies

Baby Unicorn Skanks that crap themselves all the rage!

Kids fads are getting weirder.

When I was a lad boys were into super heroes, riding BMX’s and playing with transforming robots.  Girls were into Barbie Dolls, Cabbage Patch Kids and beading sets.  It seemed to make sense.

But now the world has gone bizarre.  My son’s favourite thing is to watch youtube videos of other people playing video games.  Not play video games himself, but to watch others play them.  How that is more fun then getting a controller in your hand is beyond me.

But it seems girls are no better.  My wife came home last night with a colouring book for my daughter that she has apparently been requesting for some time.  The colouring book is called Poopsie, based on baby unicorns that poop.

Seriously…. What. The. Fuck. Is. This?!

This is apparently hugely popular!  I’ve seen the toy commercials myself where they are flogging unicorn poop which looks like glittery slime but I was ignorant to how big a fad it is.  I thought maybe it was like those baby dolls that wee themselves in a potty (which I always thought was odd but at least understood) but no, its just big balls of glittery shit from the arse of a baby unicorn.

 

If the idea of playing with mythical-creature fecal matter wasn’t bizarre enough on its own, things get way weirder.  I mean, is it just me or do these Unicorn babies , I dunno, look really slutty!?!

‘No, she really doesn’t. And neither do her trailer-park Unicorn parents it seems’

The tiny little tops that show the midriff.  The nappies that look like hot pants – I actually thought they were hot pants until I looked closer and saw the safety-pins holding them up.  The curvy body poses with big glazed eyes and almost drooling mouths that look like they would be more suited to a hentai movie than a little girls toy.  What depraved maniac decided they should look like this?! I showed pictures from the colouring book to five different women at work in case I was reacting wrong.  Maybe it was all in my head and I was some deranged pervert seeing sexuality where it didn’t actually exist.  Maybe I was being a misogynist and shaming female unicorns for dressing however they liked as they  indulged their right to shit themselves in a rainbow of different colours.  But nope,  every woman I showed uttered a shocked exclamation along the lines of ‘Oh my god!  Why do those babies look like drunk whores?!’

“hi, I’m Super Sonico from Japan. I have Dakimakura love pillows and Booby Mouse Pads based on me, yet I still look more wholesome than these Unicorn tarts!’

Now I’ll be the last to say that Unicorns can’t be sexy – one day dear Rarity from My Little Pony shall be my bride I swear it!  But these are babies in hot-diapers, kinda making this the pedophiles version of MLP.  Do we really need Unicorn Slut Babies marketed to our little girls?  I think not.

 

Of course let’s not forget the main theme of the Poopsie brand –  Coprophilia!

It’s bad enough that these little unicorn babies dress like they belong in the Japanese equivalent of a trailer park, but they also celebrate the scatological!  Have a look at some of the titles of the pages within this colouring book:

It’s gratuitous to a point that in my mind makes the colouring book grosser than the actual toys.   At least the toys are simply a capsule of glittery green slime that is supposed to represent Unicorn poop.  Weird but acceptable, it’s not like there aren’t a million little boys running around with plastic dog poops and hiding them in their parent’s shoes for a joke.  But really – ‘Turd is the Word?’ C’mon, no one needs that kind of thing marketed to them, let alone little girls.

 

So I am putting my foot down!  While I am not cruel enough to take away my daughters new colouring book, for the future I am putting Poopsie on the ‘not in my house’ list.  If my son can live without ‘Pokemon’ she can survive without this.

Well, if nothing else, its the most convincing impression of Brittney Spears I’ve ever seen.

 

Related Articles:

*Pokemon – a beginners guide to child abandonment. 

*Movie Review – My Little Pony

Ask Trev: Arrival and Departure Queries

Today we have not one but two questions, from an old mate of mine – Greg in Bendigo.

 

Question 1: ‘Where do babies come from?  I heard a stork or something or do they come from cabbage patches? I heard that rumour as well’

‘Oo-Ar, I plants me humans next to me zucchini to discourage moths!’

Forget storks.  Forget cabbage patches.  The actual answer is – the fear of death my friend, THE FEAR OF DEATH!

You know what a hassle it is to have bloody kids?  A massive one mate!  Ya can’t go out with ya buddies drinking all night anymore.  Ya can’t go over to ya hippy friends’ houses to eat their special cookies and giggle at how rectangular the doorframes are.  No sleep, no sex, no money – and chances are when they get older they will say all their emotional problems are your fault and stick you in an old farts home; they spending your life savings while you spend your remaining days soiling yourself and watching the orderlies steal your medication to sell to street kids.  Having babies sucks!

But – THE FEAR OF DEATH!

‘Am I dying or am I having a baby? I’ve heard both are rather unpleasant’

That’s right, that’s where babies come from.  The biological imperative to pass on ones genes to the next generation so that at least some of your DNA will survive your passing. So when you are gone there is still some living, breathing, tangible evidence that you ever existed in the first place.  It’s also why when those babies grow up into adults, their parents then pressure them to have subsequent babies, so you get to see yet a further generation carry your DNA on.  This way your genes may still be surviving a good 70 years after you are deep in the cold damp ground, the wormies turning you into compost inside a ludicrously expensive box.  Having descendants is really the only life-after-death one gets, no matter what the priests of various religions may tell you, using fear of your own mortality to get their coffers filled.

Of course, there are great-grandkids as well, but no one really gives a crap about them. Your DNA is too watered down by that point and chances are you are probably too senile to understand who the hell they are anyway.

 

Question 2: ‘Where’s Wally?’


Wally’s dead.  Died fighting in Syria.  No DNA legacy for him!

 

Any other info Greg might find helpful?  Pop it in the comments section below!