The Trouble with My Little Ponies
There was always something a bit wanton about My Little Ponies. Their curvy plastic
bodies, the colour of pink vibrators and slut flavoured eye shadow, ‘midnight
mauve’, ‘blow job blue’, and ‘you know you want to, cherry red’ (pastel is the blush
of virgin blood; every good My Little Pony knows that). They had painted on doe eyes
and glitter stuck to their cheap behinds, and fountains of blonde hair that you
could run your fingers through for hours. A pack of synthetic strippers, unleashed
somewhere on the gold coast, running wild, taming the Fathers with the magic trick
of taking off all their fluorescent g-strings at once. Their brave young legs and
silicon souls ready for anything that doesn’t look like love, in the empty ashtray
hour of the morning, My Little Ponies are the kind of toys that will go for a ride with
just about anyone …