Tag Archives: my little pony

An Open Apology to Innocent Girls Everywhere

No no no, it’s alright. There there, I’ll get you a pony. It’s going to be fine.

Dear girls and a few boys,

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you, for the unwanted nightmares, for the blind fear you’ve probably felt as a direct result of my blog. I’m sorry for the bizarre and uncomfortable thoughts I’ve exposed you to and the resulting compulsive habits you developed such as refusing to turn on faucet in the bathroom without a parent nearby or googling with your eyes closed. I’m sorry your pigtails have been electrified with terror and your precious eyes bugged out in horror. Careful, you’ll get your face stuck like that.

I hope you know I never meant to harm you.

I’ve been writing this blog for a little over a year now.When I first started, I was kind of like you: I knew nothing. I was an naïve blogger that just wanted to talk about her life, punctuated. I didn’t know how search engines worked, or the fact that far into the future, the vast majority of the hits on my website would come from children searching for images of my little pony and Belle the princess from Beauty and the Beast.

How was I supposed to know that Google’s crazy mixed up logarithm would rank my site as being an appropriate resource for images of Belle and My Little Pony? Did the logarithm know the secret behind the pictures? Did it know the content of the actual article written behind the images? Oh the humanity.

An elementary school girl (or boy) searches for Belle on google and unknowingly clicks on my site. The image is indeed the fair lass clad in yellow, but the article is one in which I pitch her and Beatrix Kiddo, of Kill Bill fame, in a fight to the death. All I have to say is: I’m sorry. I didn’t know you would be reading it. But if you did read it, you might as well tell me what you thought of it. Was it too much? Just right? Okay okay you’re scarred I get it.

And for all of you lovely lads and lasses searching for any variation of pink pony or little pink pony or any adorable construction therein, no doubt you have found my snippet of a story called “The land of tiny pink ponies and tiny pink pony eaters.” In this story, the adorable, glittery, pony playthings lived in constant fear of being devoured or falling into a poisonous river that dissolved their cute pony flesh. Girls, boys, what did you think of the story? Too gruesome? How do you usually plan your ponies’ deaths? You don’t? Oh.

So I just wanted to say I’m sorry to all those budding minds out there. It’s not my fault I have no idea how Search Engine Optimization works. Should I write a letter to the Google bot and tell it to remove my site from that search? Do I fax something somewhere?

Maybe the kids would know how to do it.

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The land of tiny pink ponies and tiny pink pony eaters

His name is Ralph.

The world was mostly pink with touches of pastel. The little pink ponies could and did defecate everywhere and no one was the wiser since their feces looked like little piles of pastel colored marshmallows that blended in with the pink and blue speckled grass. Even the air smelled faintly like bubble gum which was, of course, the result of pink pony farts. This magical pony fart scented land was known far and wide as Yoggin.

The fauna of Yoggin consisted mostly of tiny pink ponies, lavender land sharks, and glittery anteaters. The land sharks and the anteaters mostly kept to themselves, alternating long tournaments of backgammon with failed attempts at climbing the pink pine fir trees, so the ponies were free to scamper about the earth as freely as they could please.  The one restriction on their scampering was the unfortunate presence of giant monsters that lived solely off of the marshmallow flavored blood of the ponies. The monsters had insatiable appetites, and the ponies lived in mind numbing terror at being the next adorable horsey to go crunch between monster mandibles.

The ponies were no bigger than my grandmother’s Hummel figurines and ran around in petite herds, darting between the pink pine fir trees, pink ferns, and other pink vegetation much like pink schools of fish. It often seemed they moved as one creature, closely adhering to herd orders and ever mindful of the dreaded pink pony eater’s footstep.  In Yoggin, the clouds are pink, the sky a lovely robin’s egg blue, the sun pastel yellow, and the gently rolling hills are speckled pastel blue and pink. The pink shrubs nestle their limbs against the trunks of the pink pine fir trees, and the ferns’ leaves tickle the snouts of the pink ponies as they prance along.

The river that gently flows in the valley of the soft hills is heavily polluted. A noxious stench rises from its toxic waters that the little pink ponies are drawn to. Despite the innumerable corpses littering the riverside, at least once a month each herd loses a pony or two to the insanity that comes over them when they smell the wretched scent. Just like the sirens of old, the smell lures them and then sucks them down into the putrid waters where their soft pink flesh is digested within minutes and their cute skeletons spat back out on the playful earth. The pink pony eaters monitor the river closely to try to catch the creatures as they are seduced to their death, which is why once the ponies leave the herd, they are left behind forever. It is too dangerous to try to rescue them with a lullaby whinny or a prancy dance.

For many years, the pink pony tribes lived in peace with one another and there was much happiness in the land, despite regular pony disappearances because of the monsters.But that all changed one summer when Billy the pink pony decided he wanted to go to music school. The next year, Yoggin lay in ruins.

To be continued….

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