Born to be wild? Prove

Born to be wild? Prove it by purchasing a leather clad Ken and a wheelie-poppin' Barbie doll. Just looking at them makes me yearn for the open road; for a rebellious Harley-riding, up-yours, wind-in-my-hair-sans-helmet-fuck-you-with-your-helmet-laws, existence. Now where'd I put my "very hip black leather jacket with silvery studs" anyway?