Saturday, 5 July 2014

Life in a HubbaBubba

Multicolored, that's what every kids' thing had to be. The colors of the 'eighties, so pretty on a child... I see them on the tutus of the skaters passing by. 
The powder blue and well-rounded, candy scented "my little pony" toys, tattooed with love hearts under their pastel rainbow manes, looked at me dolefully from their cartoonish, made-up eyes, as I melted a pack of flying saucers under my tongue. And Barbie with her ethereal, half-sleepy and half-perky, preppy and sexually available, lifeless and painfully perfect look of blue eyeshadow and long lashes just stood or lay there catatonic as someone wriggled her in and out of an iridescent plastic siren dress. 
These dazzling and somewhat estranging objects, which looked a bit like living beings, but then again not, curiously resisted most games.  Along with the tiaras and the glittery firefly wings, there was only one way you could play with these toys. This ain't  Legoland...
Like all the things my friends had, which I wanted but didn't get, these multicolored, silicone and rhinestone studded, rayon delights hailed from a toyland beyond the towering gates of shopping centers full of headless rubber mannequins behind glass, where you could eat soft ice cream and play in a cage full of multicolored plastic balls.
But whatever all this was--and it also went in pairs with the Disney movies, and the kids' cartoons on TV--it was brightly colored, and it was sticky, and semi-transparent, like rose colored glasses made out of jello sweets, and it buried all of life under a huge, bubblegum-flavored condom. I seemed to be just on the edge of life in a hubba bubba, trying to kick in a door, but hey, it was a stretchy, elastic door, and it was pink...

My first novel (similar style) on amazon

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