Okay, look. I am as pro-baby rock on with your bad self awesome women who shoot fruit from their nether bits as the next girl. But, dudes. I have my limits.

I HAVE MY LIMITS. These dolls, well these dolls are my limit.

Starts all cute, right? Awwwww, preggo doll getting ready to burst forth a life. Then, well, then there was placenta. See, what happened there was when the placenta, even though it’s just red felt, showed up I heard a loud buzzing and felt a pop. Then I went blind and lost all control of my bladder. So, I am pretty sure that I have suffered a major doll-placenta related stroke.

I went blind before I could even see the snap nipples or to fully comprehend the $130 price tag. Then something started leaking out of my ear at the thought of stuffing that little baby doll back up into the mama doll to relive the birthing experience.

Goodbye, cruel world!

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I know what you’re thinking.  But just wait.  It gets better.

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You know, I think this one pretty much speaks for itself.  Technically I suppose it IS hunting season.  But really?  There’s nothing that makes this ok.  Nothing.

Of course it’s mounted on knotty pine.  *Sigh*

Now I can’t stop picturing it singing “Take Me To The River” like one of those creepy bass fish gag gifts.  Crap.  I’m never going to sleep again, am I?

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Elly Lou celebrates free range, hormone free, sustainably farmed vaginas.

If lady bits make you squeamish, then this post is probably not for you.

If you have a problem with bats, also probably not for you.

And if you have anything other than positive feelings about blue Fimo clay, then this post is definitely not for you.  But in that case you also probably have no sense of humor, which means that this entire site probably isn’t for you.

However, if you think stupid crafts made of Fimo clay that relate to lady bits and bats could be funny, then you should probably read on.

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I’d love to stay here and share countless witty observations about this fetching accessory, but I can’t suppress my overwhelming urge to scurry to the nearest mall and buy a new sports bra.  Scratch that, I’m going to replace all my bras with those terrifying, uber-supportive eighteen hour numbers.  I’d like to keep my girls sitting above the waist, thanks very much.

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Elly Lou would like to thank her mother for teaching her the importance of under wires.