FLIGHT OF THE MANNEQUIN

I was window shopping on Melrose and was amazed how conceited-looking the mannequins are. All puffed up in their perfect features...chiseled chins and noses. Hard biceps. That fake wisp of acrylic hair. It's such bullshit. Especially since they are better looking than I am.

The mannequins on Melrose are HOT. They even appear to have fake boobs. I was so convinced this one was real I asked her out on a date. You know what she said? She said NOTHING! Like most women do with me.

The only mannequins I feel comfortable with are those at K-Mart. Apparently, K-Mart didn't allocate a whole lotta budget to this side of the business. Have you been here? I don't think one mannequin has an entire set of limbs. They're all standing there lifeless, looking depressed, with half an arm...a missing leg. That one over there's foot busted off.

If mannequins were made in God's image, then God was decapitated.

It always amuses me to see mannequins with missing parts. Especially a missing head. Just how cheap are you to forego the purchase of the very body part that sets us apart from monkeys?

There's nothing sexier than seeing a torso modeling a bikini. Or just the legs and waist but no upper body whatsoever. Are they trying to save vertical space? Why not buy the ENTIRE being? Wouldn't you be able to advertise more product if you had the arms, the neck, the goddamn chest?

Maybe it's shoplifting. I think it would be pretty funny to catch someone walking out of the store with a third arm. "Hey, where you goin' with that arm, boy!"

If Winona Ryder had been smart, she would have stolen a Gucci hand while she was at it.

Is the K-Mart janitor a pervert sneaking a little in during his shift? "Gonna gets me some tonight with that mannequin over in the bra section." That would be a fun episode of in-store security camera. "Jesus. Look at Kenny. He's humpin' that mannequin!"

When I go to a place like the Sky Bar, I feel like I'm surrounded by a sea of mannequins. Just me walking through a crowd of stiff, plastic people. Their painted eyes staring blankly at me. Nobody acknowledges that I'm there. I feel so out of place.

Next time I'm going to break off one of their heads. Maybe that will get me the attention I deserve.