Put a fork in me. I’m done. No seriously. I’m totally cooked in inside, or roasted, or toasted, or melty gooey. Forget the fork; get a pitchfork.
Even though it’s not available here (although lest we forget, we still have Bratz Dolls… go hourglass figure), this still exists in the world:
Are the coke habit and bastard child being watched by mom sold separately?
Naive me first thought that the doll might be this kind of Poll Dancer:
"I'm taking a survey... It'll cost you $1 per answer."
Even if it’s culturally insensitive (but it’s okay to say because I am one), this would have been an acceptable Pole Dancer toy:
The Polish are good at four things: dancing, drinking, and counting.
I mean, with that doll existing, what’s the worst that could happen?
Are there enough pitchforks to go-go around?
monkeyBLOG monkeyDO 
Ahh. Thanks for sharing this. Hilarious Pole Dancers joke (I’m one, too!).
Re: That last photo. Reminds me of MJ holding his baby off the balcony. Therefore, whoever is doing this to that baby will likely be killed in a drug-related homicide, as well. Only stands to reason.
A fellow Polock? Well I never knew… next time I’m in town, or if you make it over my way, let’s get everyone together to change some lightbulbs!