<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823730371440966796</id><updated>2011-04-21T11:02:20.611-07:00</updated><category term='doll soup episode 3'/><category term='doll soup episode 5'/><title type='text'>Doll Soup</title><subtitle type='html'>The story of three dolls: naive, religious Pam, hardline feminist psuedo-intellectual Switch and vaccuous, vain model Leela. Will they find love and career fulfilment in the Big City? Or will they fall foul of strange mental illness, evil cults and their sadistic landlady Morag?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lubin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069047544779918389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7977/131/1600/bluelady.0.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823730371440966796.post-5985425897269097038</id><published>2009-05-17T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T08:41:44.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Episode 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Episode 6. Everyone is Mostly Naked but It's Integral to the Plot&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAq2YQgjDI/AAAAAAAAAaA/_pAvqvc2PW4/s1600-h/010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 263px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAq2YQgjDI/AAAAAAAAAaA/_pAvqvc2PW4/s400/010.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336812672147033138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier today, Pam had left the following message on Biff's answerphone. "Hi sweetie, it's Pam. Since I'm pregnant, I thought I'd better pay a suprise visit to you so we can plan our dream wedding. I don't want to shame Baby Jesus and give birth to a bastard!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAq2n8jRpI/AAAAAAAAAaI/KSMFra8xd7w/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAq2n8jRpI/AAAAAAAAAaI/KSMFra8xd7w/s400/012.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336812676358293138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, Biff had been hanging around a public convenience used by the local army base all morning and had not checked his messages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What was your name again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAq2jOqEfI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/R1_HiYQf-N4/s1600-h/014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 206px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAq2jOqEfI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/R1_HiYQf-N4/s400/014.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336812675092058610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi Biff! Oh Mary and Joseph! What are you DOING with that man?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShArakkmkEI/AAAAAAAAAag/2ty8oZyE6CY/s1600-h/017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShArakkmkEI/AAAAAAAAAag/2ty8oZyE6CY/s400/017.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336813293927829570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please, Pam, I can explain everything!" said Biff. "We were just.... wrestling."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh! Oh! Oh! You're a Uranian!" cried Pam (whose knowledge of homosexuality was somewhat outdated). "I knew something was up when you I saw all those DVDs of past Eurovision Song Contests under your bed!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAraR8lsmI/AAAAAAAAAaY/juLt7aoGffg/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAraR8lsmI/AAAAAAAAAaY/juLt7aoGffg/s400/015.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336813288928162402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You never loved me!" Pam blubbed. "You were just using me to get your uncle's money. Well bitch, the wedding is off, and I'm going to tell Uncle Alistair everything!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She flounced out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That was awkward," said Biff's trick. "I suppose this isn't a good time to tell you I don't do anal."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAp9HMg-DI/AAAAAAAAAZI/uBdUMH4Dvqg/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAp9HMg-DI/AAAAAAAAAZI/uBdUMH4Dvqg/s400/002.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336811688314337330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Leela had been showing Switch a new way of life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh Leela, I've been having such fun since I stopped caring about feminism, politics and the environment! Tell me again, WHO is Jennifer Aniston dating?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAp9DlGsGI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/mocEPgxPrlU/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 228px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAp9DlGsGI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/mocEPgxPrlU/s400/003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336811687343730786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her rival, Jeremy Moncole appeared. Switch dug in her pocket and handed Jeremy a small piece of paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi Jeremy. I want you to know that I'm giving up my PhD. Here's all of my extensive notes and stuff - you can use it for your own PhD. All I care about now are designer labels, celebrity gossip and weight loss."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAp9bB5Y2I/AAAAAAAAAZY/OwRaaxMDe1M/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAp9bB5Y2I/AAAAAAAAAZY/OwRaaxMDe1M/s400/004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336811693638509410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No! You can't give up!" said Jeremy Monocle. "You are my inspiration! Who am I going to copy from now?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know," said Switch. "See you, Leela's going to give me a makeover."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShArakJMiwI/AAAAAAAAAao/R4C_jHXgO18/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShArakJMiwI/AAAAAAAAAao/R4C_jHXgO18/s400/018.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336813293812878082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pam dramatically knocked on the door to Uncle Alistair's mansion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry to break the news, but I just found your nephew naked with another man!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAra8a0l7I/AAAAAAAAAaw/Yix2P6ZCcog/s1600-h/019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAra8a0l7I/AAAAAAAAAaw/Yix2P6ZCcog/s400/019.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336813300329256882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Filth! I knew it!" spat Uncle Alistair. "Right, I'm going to tell him he's out of my will."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShArbLsvabI/AAAAAAAAAa4/Ac7eWzQvqv0/s1600-h/020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShArbLsvabI/AAAAAAAAAa4/Ac7eWzQvqv0/s400/020.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336813304430946738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Pam had gone, Uncle Alistair had another visitor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, it's you. What do you want?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAr4m7d20I/AAAAAAAAAbA/u0cuLpeZAUQ/s1600-h/021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 263px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAr4m7d20I/AAAAAAAAAbA/u0cuLpeZAUQ/s400/021.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336813809956674370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You!" said Morag. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since Episode 5. Let's rut like wild animals!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAr419AWGI/AAAAAAAAAbI/9xnG7CuvFMo/s1600-h/022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAr419AWGI/AAAAAAAAAbI/9xnG7CuvFMo/s400/022.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336813813989660770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Get away from me you crazy bitch!" shouted Uncle Alistair. "I'm NOT ATTRACTED TO YOU. You smell funny. You're weird. You have nasty hair." He ran inside his house and locked the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAr49TbejI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/jAF3ixOm20M/s1600-h/023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAr49TbejI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/jAF3ixOm20M/s400/023.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336813815962761778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morag remained rooted to the spot for a long time. It began to get dark and cold. A wind started to blow. This was not going to be good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAr46A8UFI/AAAAAAAAAbY/xhjxsam9s2A/s1600-h/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 238px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAr46A8UFI/AAAAAAAAAbY/xhjxsam9s2A/s400/024.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336813815079915602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that day, Uncle Alistair visited Biff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pam told me about your perverted inclinations! I'm cutting you out of my will. You'll get nothing. You're dead to me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't care," said Biff. "I now realise that my own identity is more important than money."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAr5CHv36I/AAAAAAAAAbg/nicCzxHNiCE/s1600-h/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAr5CHv36I/AAAAAAAAAbg/nicCzxHNiCE/s400/025.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336813817255944098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But after Uncle Alistair was gone, Biff let out a big scream. "Oh fuck my identity! I want the money! WAAAAAHHH!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAp9SHGajI/AAAAAAAAAZg/JJoCoyBQ7yM/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAp9SHGajI/AAAAAAAAAZg/JJoCoyBQ7yM/s400/006.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336811691244415538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Switch was in the middle of her makeover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've just burned your lesbian chimney sweep outfit in the garden," said Leela. "Now, let's look at the new Switch!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Switch gave a twirl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Very nice dear, but I'm afraid that while you were wearing it, it went out of fashion. You'll have to try something else."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAp9o5LZyI/AAAAAAAAAZo/FE9Ijo5uQU0/s1600-h/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAp9o5LZyI/AAAAAAAAAZo/FE9Ijo5uQU0/s400/007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336811697360037666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But all I've got is this bikini top," said Switch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's better", said Leela. "Yes, wear that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I'm cold and almost naked," Switch complained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fashion doesn't care about your comfort," Leela told her. "No-one said being shallow was easy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAshG3sq_I/AAAAAAAAAbo/LIyYUW9QzYs/s1600-h/026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAshG3sq_I/AAAAAAAAAbo/LIyYUW9QzYs/s400/026.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336814505725570034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biff had gone to visit Leela to tell her about his bad day. "That's funnny, the door's open but there's no-one in. Hey, what's that muffled sound from the basement?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAshTYKyLI/AAAAAAAAAbw/qB9aJLxwnb4/s1600-h/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAshTYKyLI/AAAAAAAAAbw/qB9aJLxwnb4/s400/027.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336814509082986674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's Uncle Alistair! But why is he handcuffed and gagged? What's going on?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biff removed the gag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAsheTd9fI/AAAAAAAAAb4/DcFxB7pNPMM/s1600-h/028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 254px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAsheTd9fI/AAAAAAAAAb4/DcFxB7pNPMM/s400/028.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336814512016061938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let me free nephew! That crazy cow Morag kidnapped me and is using me as her sex slave."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hmmm, I thought I was dead to you," said Biff. "So why should I help you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAshs0uJjI/AAAAAAAAAcA/KBwuM-aTOik/s1600-h/029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 254px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAshs0uJjI/AAAAAAAAAcA/KBwuM-aTOik/s400/029.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336814515913631282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh no!" said Uncle Alistair, "She's back...." He started barking like a dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello Biff," said Morag. "As you've discovered my little secret, I'm afraid you'll never leave this basement alive..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7823730371440966796-5985425897269097038?l=dollsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/5985425897269097038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2009/05/episode-6.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/5985425897269097038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/5985425897269097038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2009/05/episode-6.html' title='Episode 6'/><author><name>Lubin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069047544779918389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7977/131/1600/bluelady.0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/ShAq2YQgjDI/AAAAAAAAAaA/_pAvqvc2PW4/s72-c/010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823730371440966796.post-671113876820234053</id><published>2009-04-05T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T11:37:35.259-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='doll soup episode 5'/><title type='text'>Episode 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Shallow Values 1: Switch 0.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4MIn-IbI/AAAAAAAAAWg/nKA3WKyVrPs/s1600-h/501.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 284px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4MIn-IbI/AAAAAAAAAWg/nKA3WKyVrPs/s400/501.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321275847095493042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biff and Pam had been having sex all afternoon. "Biff can I take the mask off now?" asked Pam. "It itches." &lt;br /&gt;"You may as well," said Biff sadly, "It's not really working for me anyway."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4MaKSXgI/AAAAAAAAAWo/yMwk7Sx6JEA/s1600-h/502.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4MaKSXgI/AAAAAAAAAWo/yMwk7Sx6JEA/s400/502.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321275851802828290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I love you Biff," said Pam. "I never thought I'd ever meet a man who likes exactly the same things as me! Your superior beauty skills have done wonders for my dry unmangeable hair, you know all the lyrics to Dreamgirls and have the biggest collection of embroided lace doilies I've ever seen!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4Mq8LopI/AAAAAAAAAWw/R8BZh8NkDx8/s1600-h/503.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4Mq8LopI/AAAAAAAAAWw/R8BZh8NkDx8/s400/503.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321275856307069586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly Biff's hatrosexual Uncle Alistair came in. "Just checking up on you," he said. "Are you still with that girl? Remember, no heterosexuality, no acknowledgement in my will."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4MzGTxvI/AAAAAAAAAW4/nByECmqTh6Q/s1600-h/504.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4MzGTxvI/AAAAAAAAAW4/nByECmqTh6Q/s400/504.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321275858497029874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morag, hearing an unfamilar voice, flew into the room, showing her fangs. "Oh!" she said. "Who are you?"&lt;br /&gt;"It's my Uncle Alistair," said Biff. "I like the way he smells," said Morag. "Hey, why don't you stay for dinner? Pam, go and make a six course meal now!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4M3f9yWI/AAAAAAAAAXA/BZKVyCk2PTA/s1600-h/505.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4M3f9yWI/AAAAAAAAAXA/BZKVyCk2PTA/s400/505.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321275859678382434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morag then tried to impress Uncle Alistair by reciting a selection of Robbie Burns poems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What though on hamely fare we dine, &lt;br /&gt;Wear hoddin grey, an a' that? &lt;br /&gt;Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine - &lt;br /&gt;A man's a man for a' that"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've never seen her in love before," said Pam. "She's even weirder than usual."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4rXiThEI/AAAAAAAAAX4/4pd-y7YfTOw/s1600-h/512.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4rXiThEI/AAAAAAAAAX4/4pd-y7YfTOw/s400/512.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276383674205250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Switch was still trying to follow Leela around, in order to make Leela the subject of her PhD: "Shallow Values".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where are you going Leela?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm having a decadent Pamper Day at my favourite spa, Indulge Yourself," said Leela.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, can I come?" asked Switch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4rRZXcQI/AAAAAAAAAYA/5USbZMRn2-I/s1600-h/513.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4rRZXcQI/AAAAAAAAAYA/5USbZMRn2-I/s400/513.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276382026100994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's funny, Jeremy Monocle wanted to come with me too, oh here he is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4r79drnI/AAAAAAAAAYI/O8GdlCJUTLI/s1600-h/514.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4r79drnI/AAAAAAAAAYI/O8GdlCJUTLI/s400/514.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276393451794034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Switch freaked out. "No! He's trying to steal my idea, I mean, my friend," she said. "Leela, you should go with me, it'll be great, we'll have a girly chat about boys and lipstick and empty consumerism and all that stuff you like!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4r09TBLI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/xF2b-XnG9i8/s1600-h/515.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4r09TBLI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/xF2b-XnG9i8/s400/515.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276391572047026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK then!" said Leela. "That sounds fun! Sorry Jeremy, you can't come."&lt;br /&gt;"Damn you!" cried Jeremy Monocle. "You win this time, but I will get that PhD written first!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4ai1hZGI/AAAAAAAAAXg/7bqIyifoyjk/s1600-h/509.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4ai1hZGI/AAAAAAAAAXg/7bqIyifoyjk/s400/509.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276094649820258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Morag's dinner party, Morag fired question after question at Uncle Alistair, each one becoming more personal and inappropriate. "Do you like slugs? Who's your favourite political dictator? What do you think of my hair? How much money do you earn? What size underwear do you have?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4ZgeeTPI/AAAAAAAAAXI/bfvmYl_aBFg/s1600-h/506.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4ZgeeTPI/AAAAAAAAAXI/bfvmYl_aBFg/s400/506.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276076836408562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Poor Morag," said Pam. "She's never had any use for social skills before, and she's just embarrassing herself by trying to be like a normal person."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Shut your flaps!" hissed Morag. "Aren't you supposed to be a goody-two shoes Christian!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4ac3NZRI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/Ef7o8KQjAIw/s1600-h/507.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4ac3NZRI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/Ef7o8KQjAIw/s400/507.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276093046285586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And by the way, this food you've cooked us is muck!"&lt;br /&gt;"Well I didn't have any help," whined Pam. "I had to do it all by myself. And I don't feel well."&lt;br /&gt;"Not surprised," cackled Morag. "I'm gonna hurl it all up myself..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4aaGh3FI/AAAAAAAAAXY/bNQiCX5H_PM/s1600-h/508.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4aaGh3FI/AAAAAAAAAXY/bNQiCX5H_PM/s400/508.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276092305235026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh don't!" cried Pam. "I REALLY don't feel well."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she threw up. All over Morag's clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"AAAARRRRRGGHHH! You fucking bitch!" screamed Morag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4rFNmeBI/AAAAAAAAAXw/pAoycM3Hy-U/s1600-h/511.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4rFNmeBI/AAAAAAAAAXw/pAoycM3Hy-U/s400/511.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276378755528722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's morning sickness!" said Uncle Alistair excitedly. "She's pregnant! Well done Biff!"&lt;br /&gt;"Christ!" said Morag. &lt;br /&gt;"Christ!" said Biff also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj45b7Jd0I/AAAAAAAAAYY/5B32zti2j18/s1600-h/516.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj45b7Jd0I/AAAAAAAAAYY/5B32zti2j18/s400/516.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276625370314562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the Indulge Yourself spa, Switch wasn't pleased.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Leela, it cost £400 just to get in, and then we have to pay another £500 for a hot stone massage and then £600 to be wrapped in cling film."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj45qJGzKI/AAAAAAAAAYg/ymI29-9mL2Q/s1600-h/517.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 329px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj45qJGzKI/AAAAAAAAAYg/ymI29-9mL2Q/s400/517.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276629186956450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But Switch, it's worth it because I'm worth it," said Leela. "Just like Rachel off Friends says on the advert."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj45scBT5I/AAAAAAAAAYw/XTHFDK66Ecw/s1600-h/519.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj45scBT5I/AAAAAAAAAYw/XTHFDK66Ecw/s400/519.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276629803159442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look, why do you think I'm happy all the time and you're miserable all the time? It's because I buy myself stuff. While you just sit around complaining and finding fault with society."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj45-nmywI/AAAAAAAAAY4/oisnd_a-eAA/s1600-h/520.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj45-nmywI/AAAAAAAAAY4/oisnd_a-eAA/s400/520.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276634683591426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why not try a seaweed massage, it might help get rid of your orange peel skin and then boys would look at you and you wouldn't feel so unloved and ignored all the time," said Leela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj45o-72tI/AAAAAAAAAYo/CSTpn4H0cnI/s1600-h/518.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 272px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj45o-72tI/AAAAAAAAAYo/CSTpn4H0cnI/s400/518.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321276628875860690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," said Switch. "I supposed I do have orange peel skin, and I am miserable all the time. Maybe you're right. Maybe I should eschew my critique of consumer capitalism and embrace Shallow Values!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's my girl!" said Leela, "Come with me to the Dark Side. I have such things to show you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7823730371440966796-671113876820234053?l=dollsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/671113876820234053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2009/04/episode-5.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/671113876820234053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/671113876820234053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2009/04/episode-5.html' title='Episode 5'/><author><name>Lubin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069047544779918389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7977/131/1600/bluelady.0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/Sdj4MIn-IbI/AAAAAAAAAWg/nKA3WKyVrPs/s72-c/501.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823730371440966796.post-3465164964922593538</id><published>2009-02-24T11:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T11:42:32.885-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing With Dolls: A brief history of Doll Soup</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaRJ5waPt-I/AAAAAAAAAWI/nY3axk6BqU4/s1600-h/leelaface1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 92px; height: 100px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaRJ5waPt-I/AAAAAAAAAWI/nY3axk6BqU4/s400/leelaface1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306447517545641954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaRJ5qzvbyI/AAAAAAAAAWA/iTz1trNzc0c/s1600-h/switchface1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 84px; height: 98px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaRJ5qzvbyI/AAAAAAAAAWA/iTz1trNzc0c/s400/switchface1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306447516041965346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaRJ5fvWp3I/AAAAAAAAAV4/wvGtSmU5t0I/s1600-h/pamface1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 91px; height: 98px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaRJ5fvWp3I/AAAAAAAAAV4/wvGtSmU5t0I/s400/pamface1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306447513070774130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first incarnation of Doll Soup began in July 1999 and ran weekly for 35 episodes until May 2000. The text of the episodes (but not the pictures) are available via this &lt;a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20010406054227/www.dollsoup.co.uk/dollsoup/page1.htm"&gt;internet archive&lt;/a&gt;. I was inspired to create my own internet soap opera after reading Jacqueline Suzanne's Valley of the Dolls and enjoying American tv soap operas like Melrose Place, which had become increasingly surreal (could anyone keep track of Kimberly's multiple personalities or Sydney's kitsch costume changes?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had initially toyed with using my own friends as actors, but realised that dolls would be much better - they would be constantly available, never throw star tantrums and not mind if I set their hair on fire. The original cast consisted of housemates Switch, Leela and Pam, along with their evil, somewhat magical landlady Morag. Romantic interest was provided by earnest Dr Stefano and grunting cro-magnan Butch. There was a gay couple (Julian and Christian) for a while, and later a nouveau riche couple called Beverly and Ben joined the cast. Various other glamorous characters flitted in and out - the imperious supermodel Hambel Campbell, drug-raddled Lady Sapphire, Cher and Posh Spice. The dolls' grip on reality was often severely challenged, with episodes where they travelled in time and went to (Doll) Hell. Dr Stefano got cloned at one point. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember that much about the episodes, although a couple of things stand out. One was episode 10 where Pam set Morag's hair on fire (that was a very difficult shot to get right). Another was a complicated storyline involving the characters' obsession with a Faberge egg. I had met a rich Los Angeles gay couple a few years previously, who had been in raptures over a Faberge egg which they had received for Christmas. I couldn't believe how ridiculous it was, and the Faberge egg became a symbol of silly consumerism and the belief that stuff will make you happy (despite all the camp and silliness in Doll Soup - it's really about social messages). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had decided to use the "interactivity" of this new internet thingie (it was the 1990s!) to allow readers to get involved in the soap. I set up hotmail accounts for the dolls - and people actually sent them emails. They were mainly bizarre disturbing ones in caps-lock, interspersed with German. I guess you would have to be insane to send an email to a doll. There was a chat-room (that nobody ever used to my knowledge), you could send a Doll Soup greeting card and leave a message in the Guest Book (if you were on the internet in the late 1990s, you'll remember how popular all those things were). I also tried to keep up the conceit that the dolls were "alive" and just acting, conducting their own celebrity lives off-stage, by printing interviews with them and bits of celebrity gossip about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The series ended with the dolls all condemned to Doll Hell forever. The reason for ending Doll Soup was that the series had become popular enough to attract commercial attention and I was commissioned to create a new soap opera (for what I thought was a ridiculous amount of money per episode), for a gay online website. So I started again with &lt;a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20010201170400/www.dollsoup.co.uk/gay365/page1.htm"&gt;Doll Babylon&lt;/a&gt;. This was basically a gay version of Doll Soup - Biff was the "straight-acting" repressed one, Aspen was a queer activist while Poppy was a disco-bunny. I don't remember anything about it, although it lasted for 25 episodes, and then the dot com bubble burst, all the money ran out and that was the end of that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided I'd had enough. Around 2001 not only did the world change hugely, but my life underwent a number of large changes. I stopped being in my 20s, I finished my PhD and got a full-time job. I felt it was about time to put aside my "toys" and concentrate on more important things like doing academic research. In other words, I "grew up".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After almost a decade, why have I started making Doll Soup again? I guess I miss those dolls and their crazy antics. In many ways, the cultural, political and social follies I tried to poke fun of in Doll Soup have become amplified over the last decade - there is still much to write about. Even ten years ago there was actual talk of "the end of history" - then 9.11 happened and all bets were off. We've had eight years of an idiotic Christian fundamentalist right-wing American president (Pam loved George Bush incidentally) and social progress over the last ten years has often been a case of one step forward, two steps back. The world is definitely a scarier and less certain place than it used to be. Selfish capitalism has been embraced whole-heartedly by much of the world, and it's only now starting to cause problems for those who advocated it in the first place. In the UK at least, society seems to have become apolitical - simply because there seems to be less of a real choice. Instead, to distract us we have celebrity culture, reality tv and consumerism (for which Leela is the perfect totem pole). An issue like homophobia - which ten years ago I had hoped would have been a non-issue by now, doesn't seem to be going away any time soon. And liberal types like Switch seem to spend their time tying themselves up knots by not trying to offend anyone while somehow managing to be as patronising as hell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes feel I've grown up too much. I don't watch tv any more (except for the news and a few high "quality" American series), I don't buy lifestyle or celebrity magazines. I read The Economist and the Times Higher Education magazine instead. The world makes me depressed and disappointed and angry. So starting Doll Soup again is a release, in that it's a comforting distraction from my personal real world of work and the wider real world of political instability, economic depression, war, famine and global warming. But it's also a way that I can poke fun at my own anxieties about that world. I suspect that there will be more stories about Faberge Eggs and few stories about Doll Hell coming up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I miss what happens to my brain when I start thinking up storylines for the characters. I go into a state which psychologists call "flow" - and there's a huge sense of pleasure in realising how a storyline is going to develop and how the characters can even act as proxies for all the things I want to say and do but can't and shouldn't because I'm an adult with responsibilities in the real world. I don't know where the ideas come from - they just pop into my head. I'm all for people doing what they enjoy, and if playing with dolls, even if you're a 36 year old man, makes you happy in some way, then I'm all for it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lubin Odana 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaRJ-VtnItI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/qlizLyyiToM/s1600-h/moragface1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 91px; height: 93px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaRJ-VtnItI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/qlizLyyiToM/s400/moragface1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306447596278457042" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7823730371440966796-3465164964922593538?l=dollsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/3465164964922593538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/playing-with-dolls-brief-history-of.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/3465164964922593538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/3465164964922593538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/playing-with-dolls-brief-history-of.html' title='Playing With Dolls: A brief history of Doll Soup'/><author><name>Lubin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069047544779918389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7977/131/1600/bluelady.0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaRJ5waPt-I/AAAAAAAAAWI/nY3axk6BqU4/s72-c/leelaface1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823730371440966796.post-6127107937569189769</id><published>2009-02-23T11:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T11:41:59.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Episode 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Episode 4 What A One Night Stand With Disgraced Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich Looks Like&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL9_vGy0ZI/AAAAAAAAATE/IvBFVLMFO38/s1600-h/401.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL9_vGy0ZI/AAAAAAAAATE/IvBFVLMFO38/s400/401.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306082582414414226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Switch was moping around the house. Morag flew in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, love the whole new 'lesbian chimney sweep' look," said Morag. "That bin bag you'd been wearing for the last three episodes was starting to stink."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh leave me alone," moped Switch. "I still haven't forgiven you for eating my PhD data."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL9_2y4iqI/AAAAAAAAATM/zmBDm4z9G3s/s1600-h/402.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL9_2y4iqI/AAAAAAAAATM/zmBDm4z9G3s/s400/402.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306082584478386850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was doing you a favour!" said Morag. "Did you really think you could get a PhD by 'analysing' Virgina Woolf's shopping list? Did you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She flew away, cackling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-AOKkZAI/AAAAAAAAATU/PDpMbGX74Fc/s1600-h/403.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 293px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-AOKkZAI/AAAAAAAAATU/PDpMbGX74Fc/s400/403.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306082590751745026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a knock at the door. "Oh what do you want Jeremy Monocle?" Switch asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've come to apologise for trying to steal your data," said Jeremy. "I want to confess everything. You see, I'm a famous entrepreneur - I invented chairs and the letter W. Every time someone sits on a chair I get paid £1."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What does that have to do with me though?" asked Switch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-Ab-hu1I/AAAAAAAAATc/HXbLuxF4w6Y/s1600-h/404.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 306px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-Ab-hu1I/AAAAAAAAATc/HXbLuxF4w6Y/s400/404.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306082594459335506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well," continued Jeremy Monocle. "I have everything: an enormous house on the artifcial island Palm Jumeriah, I own cloned versions of every Oscar and Grammy Award winner of the last 50 years, I have the largest collection of Faberge eggs in the known universe. The only thing I don't have is that elusive prize - an almost incomprehensible ultra-specific PhD in a social sciences subject... I thought I could steal your idea and the PhD would be mine!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well thanks to you, Morag ate my PhD data and now I'll have to think of a whole new topic!" snapped Switch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-AmEfBbI/AAAAAAAAATk/I77V0ZQDY9c/s1600-h/405.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-AmEfBbI/AAAAAAAAATk/I77V0ZQDY9c/s400/405.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306082597168678322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leela swanned in. "Switch! You're dead clever right, can you help me with this dilemma? I've been slavering my face and body with this self-tanning cream for the last 6 months. However, I'm now reading that girls in Asia are trying to get their faces to look like white people so they've been using this skin-lightening cream. So what colour should I be?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-bpuD40I/AAAAAAAAATs/KoQ4qMEIr-o/s1600-h/406.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 249px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-bpuD40I/AAAAAAAAATs/KoQ4qMEIr-o/s400/406.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306083062004835138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Switch sighed. "Why not mix the two creams together?" she suggested ironically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Perfect!" cried Leela, "Why didn't I think of that? No wonder you're doing a PhD!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-b-1qOaI/AAAAAAAAAT0/m51P2p8DUr4/s1600-h/408.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-b-1qOaI/AAAAAAAAAT0/m51P2p8DUr4/s400/408.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306083067673852322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Leela is like an embodiment of everything that's wrong with today's selfish capitalist, commerical, advertising, people-as-commodities, unfulfilled-wants culture!" cried Switch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" asked Jeremy Monocle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She would make an ideal case study for my PhD!" said Switch. "I could just follow her around and write down everything she says and does, and then critique it, and that's my PhD!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-b-LRN0I/AAAAAAAAAT8/zn7SMUgTxjU/s1600-h/409.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 282px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-b-LRN0I/AAAAAAAAAT8/zn7SMUgTxjU/s400/409.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306083067496052546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Biff was taking his 'girlfriend' Pam to meet his uncle Alistair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh I do hope your uncle will like me! What a big house!" gushed Pam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-ccoLZ4I/AAAAAAAAAUE/qhJqoAsvv3k/s1600-h/410.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 295px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-ccoLZ4I/AAAAAAAAAUE/qhJqoAsvv3k/s400/410.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306083075670370178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello nephew!" said Uncle Alistair. "Who's this with you? I thought you were a big queer!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-cacTcLI/AAAAAAAAAUM/bxgAPqvU_uI/s1600-h/411.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 306px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL-cacTcLI/AAAAAAAAAUM/bxgAPqvU_uI/s400/411.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306083075083694258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Certainly not", said Biff. "I'm as straight as Tom Cruise! This is my girlfriend Pam. She's a Christian &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; a virgin, so you can't get more normal than that can you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_JiIT9jI/AAAAAAAAAUU/kU7CSPy0ojg/s1600-h/412.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 304px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_JiIT9jI/AAAAAAAAAUU/kU7CSPy0ojg/s400/412.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306083850241439282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Glad to meet you," said Uncle Alistair. "Come on in and let me show you around my enormous house."&lt;br /&gt;"Enchanté" said Pam (pronouncing it "enn-chant").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_J4Bl6OI/AAAAAAAAAUc/lrfiYkdLLqE/s1600-h/413.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_J4Bl6OI/AAAAAAAAAUc/lrfiYkdLLqE/s400/413.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306083856118835426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you sure you're not a queer?" asked Uncle Alistair, while Pam was on the loo.&lt;br /&gt;"I swear on Cher's life!" said Biff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_KB86BdI/AAAAAAAAAUk/caZP3YfGTNQ/s1600-h/414.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 297px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_KB86BdI/AAAAAAAAAUk/caZP3YfGTNQ/s400/414.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306083858783536594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, it's a bit suspicious that she's still a virgin," said Uncle Alistair. "I want you to fuck her, and then I'll change my will to leave everything to you."&lt;br /&gt;"I can do that!" said Biff. "I'll get it done tonight."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_K0XCa6I/AAAAAAAAAUs/o-63PTbmkfM/s1600-h/415.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_K0XCa6I/AAAAAAAAAUs/o-63PTbmkfM/s400/415.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306083872314911650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back at the house, Biff was desperate. "My hatrosexual uncle wants to make me have sex with Pam. How am I going to go through with it?" &lt;br /&gt;"Just pretend she's a man," suggested Leela. &lt;br /&gt;"My imagination has been ruined by years of watching gay porn," said Biff. "I know! I'll make her wear a mask of a man."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_LXGOXAI/AAAAAAAAAU0/-I0qVEDmWZs/s1600-h/416.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_LXGOXAI/AAAAAAAAAU0/-I0qVEDmWZs/s400/416.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306083881639631874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh I love crafts! I'll make you one," said Leela. "Who's face should I get?"&lt;br /&gt;"How about Tom Cruise," said Biff. "But not a recent picture. He's got wrinkles now. Get one from his Top Gun days." He went off to write Pam a sexy love letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_p_u440I/AAAAAAAAAU8/Bso0Yl31hH0/s1600-h/417.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_p_u440I/AAAAAAAAAU8/Bso0Yl31hH0/s400/417.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306084407943684930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening, Biff came back to the house.&lt;br /&gt;"Here's your Tom Cruise mask!" said Leela. "It took me ages to make it."&lt;br /&gt;"That's not Tom Cruise you uninformed little idiot!" said Biff. "Its disgraced Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_qLTt5gI/AAAAAAAAAVE/Q88IXEd4Bhc/s1600-h/418.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_qLTt5gI/AAAAAAAAAVE/Q88IXEd4Bhc/s400/418.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306084411050944002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'll have to make me another mask, and quick! I'm meeting Pam in 10 minutes!"&lt;br /&gt;"I don't have time!" cried Leela. "Switch wants to go shopping with me, she's been very pally lately. See you!" And she swept out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_qVUFVPI/AAAAAAAAAVM/k_bgkIo4Eeo/s1600-h/419.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_qVUFVPI/AAAAAAAAAVM/k_bgkIo4Eeo/s400/419.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306084413736834290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then Pam arrived. "Biff, I got your letter. And I think I'm ready to lose my virginity. I'm so excited!"&lt;br /&gt;"Well, to make the event extra special, you should wear this sexy mask," said Biff.&lt;br /&gt;"I don't understand!" said Pam.&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry," Biff told her. "Everyone wears a mask on their first time. It's normal!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_qnrVUvI/AAAAAAAAAVU/YiIkp414JCM/s1600-h/420.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 257px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_qnrVUvI/AAAAAAAAAVU/YiIkp414JCM/s400/420.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306084418666189554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, OK!" Pam put on the mask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_qqIs46I/AAAAAAAAAVc/tZBLMc1J8Fo/s1600-h/421.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_qqIs46I/AAAAAAAAAVc/tZBLMc1J8Fo/s400/421.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306084419326239650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Take me Biff! I'm ready!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_9gSh6fI/AAAAAAAAAVk/T-4l1XGh7Yo/s1600-h/422.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL_9gSh6fI/AAAAAAAAAVk/T-4l1XGh7Yo/s400/422.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306084743100623346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biff closed his eyes and climbed on top of Pam. This was going to be very difficult...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7823730371440966796-6127107937569189769?l=dollsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/6127107937569189769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/episode-4.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/6127107937569189769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/6127107937569189769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2009/02/episode-4.html' title='Episode 4'/><author><name>Lubin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069047544779918389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7977/131/1600/bluelady.0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SaL9_vGy0ZI/AAAAAAAAATE/IvBFVLMFO38/s72-c/401.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823730371440966796.post-691183668404271610</id><published>2009-01-31T03:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T11:42:48.328-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='doll soup episode 3'/><title type='text'>Episode 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Episode 3 Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf's Shopping List?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ8_Hf3MbI/AAAAAAAAAQc/zDcxqTJVZRY/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 328px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ8_Hf3MbI/AAAAAAAAAQc/zDcxqTJVZRY/s400/001.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297426116736659890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pam was in a state of excitement: "I'm so looking forward to my next date with Biff!" she gushed to Leela, who looked bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ8_TdKk6I/AAAAAAAAAQk/eatW82YTphk/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ8_TdKk6I/AAAAAAAAAQk/eatW82YTphk/s400/002.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297426119946572706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Last week he took me and 20 of his male friends to see the Steel Magnolias: The Musical starring Cher, Bette Midler, Patti Lupone, Rue MacClanahan, Lizi Minelli and the exhumed corpse of Judy Garland. Afterwards we went in this weird bar - the women were a bit rough though - I even think some of them had stubble!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ8_eD5zCI/AAAAAAAAAQs/4ci3dQyS_bM/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ8_eD5zCI/AAAAAAAAAQs/4ci3dQyS_bM/s400/003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297426122793405474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh here you are Biff! You're an hour late, where were you?"&lt;br /&gt;"I was having a manicure so my nails would look fabulous for you!" said Biff.&lt;br /&gt;"They're lovely!" said Pam, giving Biff a hug, although he seemed oddly stiff and cold and did not respond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ8_R3hJ-I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/UGVw8JSElko/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ8_R3hJ-I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/UGVw8JSElko/s400/004.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297426119520233442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pam didn't seem to notice: "Come on lover!"&lt;br /&gt;"Where are you taking Pam tonight?" asked Leela.&lt;br /&gt;"Stallions, it's kind of like a health spa," said Biff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ8_ex0UxI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/-jugszkrUCc/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ8_ex0UxI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/-jugszkrUCc/s400/005.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297426122985984786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See if they can do something about Pam's enormous open pores," said Leela. "If I have to look at them for much longer, I swear I'm going to take a needle and thread to them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ9ZtGSz7I/AAAAAAAAARE/-yEcBS4oOEY/s1600-h/05a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ9ZtGSz7I/AAAAAAAAARE/-yEcBS4oOEY/s400/05a.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297426573506564018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After they had gone, Morag appeared. "How's the evil plan going?" she asked. "Has Biff convinced Pam he's straight so he can get his inheritance from his homophobic uncle?"&lt;br /&gt;"It seems to be working," said Leela.&lt;br /&gt;"Just make sure I get my share of the money bitch!" spat Morag. "Anyway, I'm off. I'm on a New Labour Quango and afterwards I'm playing Kerplunk with Peter Mandleson."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ9ZtSPs-I/AAAAAAAAARM/FHV_BO7JsSI/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ9ZtSPs-I/AAAAAAAAARM/FHV_BO7JsSI/s400/006.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297426573556691938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a lovely day and Switch had decided to do some work on her PhD in the garden.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh Virginia Woolf, what feminist message were you telling the world when you wrote "2 turnips" on your shopping list? Will I ever decipher your code?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ9Z5jhZSI/AAAAAAAAARU/DpiL1k-HKmo/s1600-h/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ9Z5jhZSI/AAAAAAAAARU/DpiL1k-HKmo/s400/007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297426576850380066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She became aware that a man was watching over her shoulder. "Who are you and what do you want?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;"My name is Jeremy Monocle," said the man. "I have some important news for you. You must give me Virginia Woolf's shopping list at once!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ9Z_EkDTI/AAAAAAAAARc/f7N1X1PtWss/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ9Z_EkDTI/AAAAAAAAARc/f7N1X1PtWss/s400/008.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297426578331143474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But why?" asked Switch. "This shopping list &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; my ticket to a PhD!"&lt;br /&gt;"I've travelled here from 1000 years in the future," said Jeremy Monocle. "Your PhD resulted in a feminist revolution - women all over the world read it and they rose up against male oppression. There was a devastating war and all of the men were killed. I am the Last Man on Earth and I've been sent back in time to stop you from writing your PhD! Now give me Virginia Woolf's shopping list"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ9Z-Sr8mI/AAAAAAAAARk/Y8g_v5WtYP4/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ9Z-Sr8mI/AAAAAAAAARk/Y8g_v5WtYP4/s400/009.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297426578121945698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Get away from my face!" cried Switch, gathering up her things and running into the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ92gYrfoI/AAAAAAAAARs/ZDZSA5xkQYg/s1600-h/010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ92gYrfoI/AAAAAAAAARs/ZDZSA5xkQYg/s400/010.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297427068310224514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once safely inside, Switch started to have a panic attack. "I can't deal with this! Leela, you gotta help me. Here, take Virginia Woolf's shopping list and hide it for me while I think about what to do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ925KPqWI/AAAAAAAAAR0/MtspbdfB-fg/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ925KPqWI/AAAAAAAAAR0/MtspbdfB-fg/s400/011.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297427074960566626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I couldn't really care less about you or Virgina Woolf's shopping list, but I guess it'll fit in my bag," said Leela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ92-XDZ8I/AAAAAAAAAR8/ftejL5CCfBs/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ92-XDZ8I/AAAAAAAAAR8/ftejL5CCfBs/s400/012.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297427076356466626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Biff and Pam were on their date at Stallions. "What an odd place!" said Pam. "I'm the only woman here! And most of these rooms don't have any lights on!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ92xmfE1I/AAAAAAAAASE/ZHVSbJAG4mc/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ92xmfE1I/AAAAAAAAASE/ZHVSbJAG4mc/s400/013.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297427072931533650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why don't you wait here for a bit," said Biff. "I'm going to go and check out the steam-room. See you in a couple of hours."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ92yYY-JI/AAAAAAAAASM/FlRCR904F44/s1600-h/014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 349px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ92yYY-JI/AAAAAAAAASM/FlRCR904F44/s400/014.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297427073140848786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK darling!" said Pam. "I'll just sit here quietly and say the Lords Prayer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ-YoruY7I/AAAAAAAAASU/YvA9i9_69ic/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ-YoruY7I/AAAAAAAAASU/YvA9i9_69ic/s400/015.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297427654653141938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back at the house, Switch had taken some beta-blockers and was feeling relatively calm again. "Leela, can I have Virginia's shopping list back!" &lt;br /&gt;"Oh dear," said Leela, "I'm afraid it's not in my bag any more. Perhaps it fell out when I was in Claire's Accessories."&lt;br /&gt;"Nooooooooooooooo!" screamed Switch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ-YkVI_9I/AAAAAAAAASc/OIrCpvqQ5Fc/s1600-h/015a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ-YkVI_9I/AAAAAAAAASc/OIrCpvqQ5Fc/s400/015a.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297427653484675026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly Jeremy Monocle appeared.&lt;br /&gt;Switch jumped on him, clawing at his throat. "Where's the fucking shopping list? WHERE IS IT???"&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know!" said Jeremy Monocle. "Get off me. This is cashmere!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ-YkrrSyI/AAAAAAAAASk/7f2hJzPPE8M/s1600-h/016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ-YkrrSyI/AAAAAAAAASk/7f2hJzPPE8M/s400/016.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297427653579197218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh I remember now," said Leela. "I think I might have given Virginia Woolf's shopping list to Morag."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ-YzfJu0I/AAAAAAAAASs/wZxjgh5QsJU/s1600-h/017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ-YzfJu0I/AAAAAAAAASs/wZxjgh5QsJU/s400/017.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297427657553197890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's right bitches!" said Morag appearing suddenly. "Hello everyone. Me and Peter Mandleson have been playing Kerplunk all afternoon and I'll tell you what, all of that exertion has made me hungry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ-YxvIJmI/AAAAAAAAAS0/ccSmMu88HW4/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ-YxvIJmI/AAAAAAAAAS0/ccSmMu88HW4/s400/018.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297427657083332194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yum yum!" Morag ate up Virginia Woolf's shopping list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ-1v-ExeI/AAAAAAAAAS8/eae8UQRfego/s1600-h/019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ-1v-ExeI/AAAAAAAAAS8/eae8UQRfego/s400/019.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297428154825360866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Burp! Not as nice as Alan Bennett's electricty bill, but it certainly filled a hole."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now I'll never get a PhD!" cried Switch. "My life is OVER!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7823730371440966796-691183668404271610?l=dollsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/691183668404271610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2009/01/episode-3-whos-afraid-of-virginia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/691183668404271610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/691183668404271610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2009/01/episode-3-whos-afraid-of-virginia.html' title='Episode 3'/><author><name>Lubin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069047544779918389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7977/131/1600/bluelady.0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SYQ8_Hf3MbI/AAAAAAAAAQc/zDcxqTJVZRY/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823730371440966796.post-2197546015691849131</id><published>2009-01-13T11:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T12:24:42.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Episode 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Episode 2 Pam has facial hair, Biff needs facial hair, Leela hates facial hair, Morag hates everyone.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzwwEpjGAI/AAAAAAAAANY/eSOCFOJf_bw/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzwwEpjGAI/AAAAAAAAANY/eSOCFOJf_bw/s400/009.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290868370925885442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Switch was busy working on her English Literature PhD thesis. "It's so hard!" (She had written 5 pages in the last 2 years.) Suddenly her evil landlady Morag appeared as if by magic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzwwC5caMI/AAAAAAAAANg/6NO3BvS25yA/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzwwC5caMI/AAAAAAAAANg/6NO3BvS25yA/s400/012.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290868370455685314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"You still on with that rubbish?" Morag hissed.&lt;br /&gt;"It's not rubbish. I'm looking at a very important topic - A feminist interpretation of a shopping list written by Virginia Woolf."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzwv6nDvQI/AAAAAAAAANQ/XoGl4TXcRW0/s1600-h/008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzwv6nDvQI/AAAAAAAAANQ/XoGl4TXcRW0/s400/008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290868368231087362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Others may have looked at 'To The Lighthouse', but that's the easy way. I think that this shopping list of hers tells us more about feminist thinking than all of her novels put together."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzwwYJauWI/AAAAAAAAANo/5W3tWjNY7JE/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzwwYJauWI/AAAAAAAAANo/5W3tWjNY7JE/s400/015.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290868376159828322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Not interested," said Morag. "Oh, and I'm doubling your rent as of last month. Pay up!"&lt;br /&gt;"Why?" asked Switch.&lt;br /&gt;"Because you're fugly and I hate you," said Morag. "Goodbye."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxO0DAUuI/AAAAAAAAAN4/TVcxA0bW2rs/s1600-h/020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxO0DAUuI/AAAAAAAAAN4/TVcxA0bW2rs/s400/020.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290868899045200610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Switch put away her PhD thesis. "Sorry Virginia but you won't pay the rent, I guess I'll just have to write twice as many articles for Labia magazine this month instead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leela was passing by and overheard this comment. "You write for a magazine? Darling, how wonderful. Tell me what to like!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzwwR7trkI/AAAAAAAAANw/vcjgmwU5Chg/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzwwR7trkI/AAAAAAAAANw/vcjgmwU5Chg/s400/018.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290868374491737666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"What do you mean? Switch asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, I'm too busy and stupid to have any opinions of my own, so I just read magazines and they tell me what to think," said Leela brightly. "So... what's in and what's out? I need to know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxO2dNSJI/AAAAAAAAAOA/l_tUedm0tbY/s1600-h/023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxO2dNSJI/AAAAAAAAAOA/l_tUedm0tbY/s400/023.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290868899691972754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Labia isn't really that sort of magazine", said Switch huffily. "For instance, I'm writing an article about how this female cleaner earns £20 a week while this male banker earns £20,000 a week. It's clear sexism!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxPoaiBtI/AAAAAAAAAOI/ibf_kqZGg2c/s1600-h/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 245px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxPoaiBtI/AAAAAAAAAOI/ibf_kqZGg2c/s400/025.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290868913102522066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"So...." said Leela, motors whirring furiously in her brain... "Bankers are in? I should go out with one? What colours go with a banker?" She wandered off, leaving Switch brimming with murderous rage and hatred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxPuA50RI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/NwaMnj23wnM/s1600-h/028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxPuA50RI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/NwaMnj23wnM/s400/028.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290868914605642002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Pam had been cleaning the kitchen all morning. "Nothing makes Jesus happier than a work surface that's been drenched in Dettol!" she said. She was interrupted by Biff and Leela, who had been "promenading" around outside. Pam felt herself go red again - she didn't know why, but Biff made her feel odd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxPmpuQyI/AAAAAAAAAOY/oMY24p3kr0E/s1600-h/030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxPmpuQyI/AAAAAAAAAOY/oMY24p3kr0E/s400/030.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290868912629367586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Hi Pam!" said Leela. "Would you like us to show you how to bleach your moustache?"&lt;br /&gt;"No!" cried Pam, putting her hand to her top lip in horror. &lt;br /&gt;"I guess not," said Leela. "It wouldn't make any difference. You're a lost cause. Get me a drink Biff."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxw08kdcI/AAAAAAAAAOg/zqo_yoQwRVY/s1600-h/032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxw08kdcI/AAAAAAAAAOg/zqo_yoQwRVY/s400/032.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290869483402196418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"How about a gin and tonic, duchess?" said Biff. "Oh the top on this bottle's too tight for me." He gave it a big twist and ending up spilling the contents over himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxw7xKDuI/AAAAAAAAAOo/_fqCCP4SaOA/s1600-h/034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxw7xKDuI/AAAAAAAAAOo/_fqCCP4SaOA/s400/034.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290869485233376994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Oh look at me, I'm such a silly bitch, I don't even know my own strength! Well at least those illegal steroids are working!" Biff and Leela fell about laughing. &lt;br /&gt;"Take off that top -you can borrow one of my t-shirts," said Leela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxxCQ-FaI/AAAAAAAAAOw/w7djYGiM7aM/s1600-h/035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 295px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxxCQ-FaI/AAAAAAAAAOw/w7djYGiM7aM/s400/035.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290869486977422754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Biff stripped and for a second, Pam forgot how to breath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxxHpHJqI/AAAAAAAAAO4/O-YM3GgHFfE/s1600-h/036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 303px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxxHpHJqI/AAAAAAAAAO4/O-YM3GgHFfE/s400/036.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290869488420857506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"I'll be quick, there's an episode of The Golden Girls starting on UK Living that I don't want to miss", he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxxHOD4UI/AAAAAAAAAPA/5VfmcgPWn3g/s1600-h/037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzxxHOD4UI/AAAAAAAAAPA/5VfmcgPWn3g/s400/037.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290869488307396930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Just out of interest", said Pam, "Is Biff seeing anyone at the moment? Is he seeing &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;Leela spat out gin and tonic everywhere. "Oh honey, no he's not &lt;i&gt;seeing&lt;/i&gt; anyone - well apart from half the local gym. Well, he's certainly not seeing me - I'm his fag hag!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzyDWhQhWI/AAAAAAAAAPI/Xa-noSNSzPY/s1600-h/039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzyDWhQhWI/AAAAAAAAAPI/Xa-noSNSzPY/s400/039.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290869801652094306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Does that mean you buy his cigarettes for him?" asked Pam, who was unaware of the sophisticated language used by city folk.&lt;br /&gt;"Er.... Yes, that's exactly what it means," said Leela. "Why, are you interested? Shall I tell him you want to fuck him?&lt;br /&gt;"Goodness!" cried Pam, shocked. She ran from the room like a lady in a Victorian melodrama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzyEbjg3gI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/neJX2qlXXFA/s1600-h/041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzyEbjg3gI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/neJX2qlXXFA/s400/041.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290869820183600642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When Biff came back, Leela told her about Pam, and they both did a horrible cackly laugh for 10 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzyFvZ4jgI/AAAAAAAAAPg/gveMHFOLvf4/s1600-h/046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzyFvZ4jgI/AAAAAAAAAPg/gveMHFOLvf4/s400/046.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290869842691788290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Actually," said Biff. "I could do with a beard. My evil homophobic uncle Alistair is about to die, and he said he wouldn't leave me any money unless I was married. To a woman."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzyEw1ar3I/AAAAAAAAAPY/TKPkQ1_UsPE/s1600-h/044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzyEw1ar3I/AAAAAAAAAPY/TKPkQ1_UsPE/s400/044.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290869825895837554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Well Pam's about the only woman in the country who'd fall for it," said Leela. "I'll help to convince her that you're straight, if we can share the cash!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzyGcrHRTI/AAAAAAAAAPo/ZJ9-zvHFBgE/s1600-h/048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzyGcrHRTI/AAAAAAAAAPo/ZJ9-zvHFBgE/s400/048.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290869854843651378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Suddenly Morag materialised. "What a spiteful little plan," she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzyN3-zIvI/AAAAAAAAAPw/DYBk277mr1k/s1600-h/052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzyN3-zIvI/AAAAAAAAAPw/DYBk277mr1k/s400/052.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290869982433059570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"I want a 50% cut of the money."&lt;br /&gt;"What if we say no?" said Leela.&lt;br /&gt;"I'll kill you both," Morag told them.&lt;br /&gt;"OK, I guess it's 50%".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so a wicked plot was hatched...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7823730371440966796-2197546015691849131?l=dollsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/2197546015691849131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2009/01/episode-2-pam-has-facial-hair-biff.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/2197546015691849131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/2197546015691849131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2009/01/episode-2-pam-has-facial-hair-biff.html' title='Episode 2'/><author><name>Lubin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069047544779918389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7977/131/1600/bluelady.0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SWzwwEpjGAI/AAAAAAAAANY/eSOCFOJf_bw/s72-c/009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7823730371440966796.post-109755044160776145</id><published>2008-12-31T08:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T12:07:56.715-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Episode 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Episode 1 - If You Have Split Ends We Can't Be Friends&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuXxTqZRwI/AAAAAAAAAKY/hMGxZ7L77r4/s1600-h/IMG_1084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuXxTqZRwI/AAAAAAAAAKY/hMGxZ7L77r4/s400/IMG_1084.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285985460996884226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"My first time away from home!" said Pam excitedly. "Being in the city is wonderful! I'm sure I'll be able to secure a rewarding job which will let me change lives for the better, perhaps as a social worker. Ah, here's my new home - I can't wait to meet my new housemates, I just know we're going to be lifelong friends!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuXwg7KtiI/AAAAAAAAAKI/on2t5WCfkzg/s1600-h/IMG_1081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuXwg7KtiI/AAAAAAAAAKI/on2t5WCfkzg/s400/IMG_1081.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285985447377024546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A sulky-looking doll answered the door. "Hi, I'm Pam!" said Pam, giving her a hug. "I'm a Christian, my hobbies are doing word-searches, mending clothes and looking at sunsets! What's your name?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuXxaBaL9I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/_w7QP2oTJ00/s1600-h/IMG_1082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuXxaBaL9I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/_w7QP2oTJ00/s400/IMG_1082.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285985462704025554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Oh Christ!" said the doll wearily. She then changed her tone, as if she was talking to a 5 year old. "I'm Switch. I have an important job writing for Labia - it's a feminist magazine. I'm actually bisexual myself. And if you don't like it, that's your problem, OK?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuYZOwDI3I/AAAAAAAAAK4/hX1YGbBaoOk/s1600-h/IMG_1089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuYZOwDI3I/AAAAAAAAAK4/hX1YGbBaoOk/s400/IMG_1089.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285986146873189234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Fortunately, Pam didn't understand any of the words that Switch had said, so she simply smiled happily and said "How wonderful! I know we're going to be best friends. I think God had a plan for us to meet! Just one question, why are you wearing a binbag?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuXwb8ETgI/AAAAAAAAAKA/3YT32_kDiSc/s1600-h/IMG_1080.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 366px; height: 298px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuXwb8ETgI/AAAAAAAAAKA/3YT32_kDiSc/s400/IMG_1080.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285985446038621698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Clothes are a form of patriarchal oppression!" snarled Switch. "My binbag is a protest. And it's nothing to do with my recent weight gain."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, there was a drop in room temperature. "Here's Morag," said Switch. "She owns the house."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuYZIc7jVI/AAAAAAAAAKw/qTFBwRjmckU/s1600-h/IMG_1088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuYZIc7jVI/AAAAAAAAAKw/qTFBwRjmckU/s400/IMG_1088.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285986145182387538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Hi!" said Pam. "But my goodness! What's happened to your lips and face? You look like you've been in a car accident!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You fucking cunt!" screamed Morag. "I paid £50,000 to have all this surgery. You jealous bitch!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuYYyWDjSI/AAAAAAAAAKo/znF_16RYi4U/s1600-h/IMG_1087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuYYyWDjSI/AAAAAAAAAKo/znF_16RYi4U/s400/IMG_1087.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285986139247971618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Fortunately, Pam had never heard a swear word before. "What an interesting Scottish accent you have," she concluded. "It'll take me a while to get used to it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Later, bitch!" hissed Morag, flying out of the room, just as another doll sailed in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuYZOYT9sI/AAAAAAAAALA/VBJSUG2eQ4U/s1600-h/IMG_1090.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuYZOYT9sI/AAAAAAAAALA/VBJSUG2eQ4U/s400/IMG_1090.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285986146773628610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Switch! You got to help me!" she said. "If the big hand is on the 2 and the little hand is on the 6, what time is it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's half past you're mentally retarded!" said Switch. "This is Leela - she has an IQ of minus 400 and is a model. How surprising is that!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuYZZv3EbI/AAAAAAAAALI/ZmwJPsaA_nI/s1600-h/IMG_1091.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuYZZv3EbI/AAAAAAAAALI/ZmwJPsaA_nI/s400/IMG_1091.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285986149825188274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Enchante!" said Leela to Pam, letting her kiss her hand. "I'm sure you've seen me on television. I'm a presenter on that new channel - Slutz TV. People phone in and pay me money for me to lick my own fingers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh!" said Pam. "I don't watch television. Mummy says it rots the brain."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuY8QJknKI/AAAAAAAAALQ/qnEvTbkmacw/s1600-h/IMG_1092.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuY8QJknKI/AAAAAAAAALQ/qnEvTbkmacw/s400/IMG_1092.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285986748544097442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Darling, how about you sort out your split ends, then we'll talk," said Leela disdainfully. "Anyway, I'm bored of you now. And Biff is coming over, so only have three hours to decide which shade lipstick to apply."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuY8ayC29I/AAAAAAAAALY/cZBEjLG1lds/s1600-h/IMG_1093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuY8ayC29I/AAAAAAAAALY/cZBEjLG1lds/s400/IMG_1093.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285986751398206418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Seeya, don't wanna be ya!" Leela sailed off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuY8YUZN3I/AAAAAAAAALg/krBdp_dfTQE/s1600-h/IMG_1094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuY8YUZN3I/AAAAAAAAALg/krBdp_dfTQE/s400/IMG_1094.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285986750736971634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just then, the doorbell went. "That must be Biff already!" gasped Leela, running for the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuZpWO5OJI/AAAAAAAAAL4/uXRTSgEQK-Y/s1600-h/IMG_1095.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuZpWO5OJI/AAAAAAAAAL4/uXRTSgEQK-Y/s400/IMG_1095.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285987523271145618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A very attractive and muscular man entered, causing Pam to experience a strange sensation in her tummy, unlike anything she had ever felt before. "You must be Leela's boyfriend!" she said. "I'm Pam, pleased to meet you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuZposcMcI/AAAAAAAAAMI/hEXofruK51U/s1600-h/IMG_1102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuZposcMcI/AAAAAAAAAMI/hEXofruK51U/s400/IMG_1102.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285987528226910658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Oh honey!" drawled Biff, ignoring Pam completely. "Where did you find this one? So anyway girlfriend, you'll never guess who I've just been rimming in the steam room all afternoon..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuZpTGFanI/AAAAAAAAAMA/j1cEa0u04Vo/s1600-h/IMG_1101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 349px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuZpTGFanI/AAAAAAAAAMA/j1cEa0u04Vo/s400/IMG_1101.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285987522428889714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Biff then started a monologue that lasted one hour. Again, Pam didn't understand any of it, only the odd word "White Party.... krystal.... fisting.... pecs.... Streisand.... gimp suit.... Dolce and Gabanna...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuaii601vI/AAAAAAAAANI/KWaeCJ5SZo8/s1600-h/IMG_1111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 222px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuaii601vI/AAAAAAAAANI/KWaeCJ5SZo8/s400/IMG_1111.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285988505929176818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"You and your silly, decadent capitalist, hedonistic, consumer lifestyle!" screamed Switch, who could bear it no more. "You make me want to vomit!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh honey, a bit of bulima's just what you need, you could do with losing the weight!" giggled Biff, and he and Leela fell about cackling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuaRaZ-XXI/AAAAAAAAAMg/07JfVZIXoJY/s1600-h/IMG_1106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuaRaZ-XXI/AAAAAAAAAMg/07JfVZIXoJY/s400/IMG_1106.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285988211586129266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That night Pam unpacked her suitcase and settled into her new room. However, when she turned back the covers of her bed, she discovered something horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Someone's done a big smelly poo in my bed! Who can have done such a thing and why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuaRTeu2UI/AAAAAAAAAMo/6ArhPT2tnuA/s1600-h/IMG_1107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuaRTeu2UI/AAAAAAAAAMo/6ArhPT2tnuA/s400/IMG_1107.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285988209727035714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"It was me!" said Morag, climbing out of the wardrobe, where she had been spying on Pam for the last hour. "That'll teach you to diss my face."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuaRn2D2hI/AAAAAAAAAMw/MD_pgJsyk3E/s1600-h/IMG_1108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuaRn2D2hI/AAAAAAAAAMw/MD_pgJsyk3E/s400/IMG_1108.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285988215193590290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Morag then put her face very close to Pam's and licked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuaR4CuV4I/AAAAAAAAANA/TaKfkRgCtkw/s1600-h/IMG_1110.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuaR4CuV4I/AAAAAAAAANA/TaKfkRgCtkw/s400/IMG_1110.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285988219541673858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Sleep tight bitch!" she said, before leaving the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuaR3Qse7I/AAAAAAAAAM4/LwAUPioPJmU/s1600-h/IMG_1109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuaR3Qse7I/AAAAAAAAAM4/LwAUPioPJmU/s400/IMG_1109.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285988219331836850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After she had gone Pam reflected on everything that had happened during her first day in the city. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she burst into tears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7823730371440966796-109755044160776145?l=dollsoup.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/feeds/109755044160776145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2008/12/episode-1-if-you-have-split-ends-we.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/109755044160776145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7823730371440966796/posts/default/109755044160776145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dollsoup.blogspot.com/2008/12/episode-1-if-you-have-split-ends-we.html' title='Episode 1'/><author><name>Lubin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03069047544779918389</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7977/131/1600/bluelady.0.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_DQEVJ2qvpxo/SVuXxTqZRwI/AAAAAAAAAKY/hMGxZ7L77r4/s72-c/IMG_1084.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
