OMG! I can't believe you're the big 5-0! One minute you're pursuing your many fascinating careers and patiently ignoring snippy comments about your fabulous figure, and the next minute there you are, spending another Sadday night with Ken, sitting on the couch wearing matching Snuggies ("Honey, it's a blanket with sleeves!!") and watching wrasslin' on TV.
As your lifelong friend, the one with the also-ran spouse, Alan, I, Midge Mattel, just want to say "Welcome to my world!" Have you seen the parody of you as Cougar Barbie on YouTube? What do you mean, what is YouTube? Girl, you have got to get out more. Things have changed a lot since you came along in '59. For starters, everyone now knows that Ken was gay for at least most of the '80s and '90s. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
I have to admit, every time I heard some little snot pout on Christmas morning because Santa brought me or Skipper or Christie instead of YOU, it did chafe a bit. OK, more than a bit. I swear there was a time back in the mid-70s when I toyed with asking GI Joe (who, incidentally, like my Alan, PREFERS a real woman with red hair, freckles and dowdy floral shifts) to, well, accidentally on purpose toss a grenade into your Dream House or at least tamper with the brakes on that ridiculous Pepto Bismol convertible of yours. Good times.
Oh, don't look so surprised. You made life insufferable for the rest of us with your perfect polystyrene proportions. Remember how you'd be wearing your black tulle "Nightclub singer" evening gown and I'd be wearing, let's see, oh yes, I remember now: PLAID FREAKIN' CULOTTES.
So if I seem a little smug about you turning 50, please don't take it too hard. The truth is, we all hated you. Even Becky, the one in the wheelchair. In fact, she hated you the most. Hahahahahaha!
Oh, Barbie, now that you're 50, maybe you'll finally understand that it's inner beauty that counts. YOU SHALLOW COW!!!! Oops. Did I just say that out loud?
Barbie, I'd love to write more, but I'm afraid I'm out of time. Alan and I have a full and productive life that has nothing to do with you but has a great deal to do with cooking up large quantities of meth in our RV and getting the young'uns to sell it to their school friends. Oh, DON'T JUDGE ME! You don't know what it's been like for me living in your shadow all these decades. But no more! You're just five years away from senior coffee at McDonald's. So, from all of your "friends" at Mattel, happy flippin' birthday. Gotta go. Alan says it's time for my "crazy pills."
Sunshine & Rainbows,