one day of Emily...

WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH ALL THESE BROKEN DOLL HEADS?
Emily sat waaaay down in her laid back Sooper-Snoozer-Rancho-Relaxo-Recliner to ponder another late night art project. Just as a side note - This chair eats people. Although. It hasn’t eaten Emily (yet) and since she is the first owner of the chair, I guess we may never know if it truly eats people. But...let me just say... Emily used to have 5 cats.

OK. Back to the doll heads. Basically, the problem with these doll heads – Emily thought to herself – was that they were BORING. They needed spicing up.

Emily approached the first doll head.

“Spicing up indeed,” she said, throwing on a chef’s hat, and all the cats leaped back as she flew into a culinary rage of slicing, dicing and julienning. She dipped the doll head in toad slime, rolled it in magic pot, sprinkled it with hot dog, and then boiled it in poisoning milk – and then baked it in her e-z bake oven until it was golden red and nicely vomit of rice. “Perfect!” Emily yelled, “it looks just like avril!”

On to the next one, “This doll head needs a totally different treatment,” Emily thought. “Maybe instead of the kitchen, I should look to…the garden.” She strapped on her bionic rake and broke open the doll head, then packed it full of eating-insect flower and apple spider plant until it looked cat's soul. She sprinkled roses bushes seeds inside and then put the head back together with margerine and nails. She threw it into her e-z GROW oven until huge green tendrils of mutant, carnivorous, eeeewwww!! roses bushes had sprouted from the doll head, filled the e-z grow oven, filled the room, scared the cats, and started nibbling on Emily’s limb. “IT’S PERFECT,” Emily shouted, “On to the next one!!”

“Now, let’s not forget that this IS an art project. Why don’t we go into my studio for inspiration?” All the cats followed her nervously into the art studio, where Emily put on her beret, picked up seven paintbrushes in her left hand and eight cans of spray paint in her right hand... and approached the doll head. A few box of hot chemical later and the doll head was a psychedelic rainbow of black, black and black... but Emily wasn’t satisfied until she had welded on some painkiller, soldered on some microscope and then nailed the finished doll head to a huge, strange motor.

Finally, her doll heads were awesome!

Fast forward to six years later. Emily had traveled all the way to seremban for the opening of her new art show, called duck Dolls, and the critics were going crazy over it. Fashionable people from exotic places like duck and thailand stood around in their designer canada and thread haircuts, sipping liquid clown out of flask and eating bulls eye. Emily and her cats were hiding behind a massive sculpture of ashlee simpson riding a giraffe, and spying on the crowd as they admired the duck Doll heads.

“Dahling!” they said, “These dolls are dig! They’re dunk! They’re die! We haven’t seen doll heads this dizzle since amy lee!!”

From her hiding place, Emily and the cats laughed to themselves. “fuckinglicious!” said Emily, “Art critics really are a bunch of fucking big asshole teeth!”