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#a36 :: Mimobot

March 20, 2008

032008.jpgWhen it comes to urban vinyl, check I’m a dry drunk.

I walk through Munky King or KidRobot and drool.

I never buy anything in the $125.00 range, nor even the $9.00 range, never pick anything up to hold it or ask to see something in the case. I shuffle around the shop, hands shoved into pockets, shoulders hunched, staring into case upon case full of exotically painted (and priced) vinyl caricatures and … just … drool …

Not over cookie-cutter Dunnys or frickin’ weren’t-even-funny-the-first-time Smorkin’ Labbits, either. I drool over the elaborate sci-fi figures, the lowbrow icons and the Boschian acid casualties, the untouchable limited-edition freaks and the overpriced little fuckers like this.

I blame Mom and Dad – and thank them in the same breath – for the hardcore toy lust.

My parents were forever declaring of non-educational toys (Motorific, Rock’em Sock’em Robots, Creepy Crawlers – I weep for you) – “No, you can’t have that, it’s a piece of junk.”

So, denied toys in childhood, I have littered my adult life with them, amassing – for the most part – a nice collection of robots of various sizes.

But the frugality my folks instilled in me prevents me from paying $49.95 for the same quantity of blowmolded, hand-painted vinyl you find in the average doggie chew-toy. So I’m doomed to shuffle and drool.

Then along came RayD8. He leered up at me from a demo table at a game show. And he whined in a sinister Peter Lorre sneer, “Taaake me hoooome. I’m preeehhhktical.”

So I did. $49.95 later, I have a friend who reminds me I don’t need useless toys that won’t do anything more than collect dust.

When not helping me move files from my home-office Macs to my work PC and vice versa (his little blue-LED ass-bone blinking merrily), he stands around.

Glowing softly in the dark.

He’s not a piece of junk.

Filed under: Art, Fetish, symbol, Tool, Toy | Comments (1)

1 Comment

  1. Kit Reed March 21, 2008 @ 3:55 am

    Actually, it was Tom Whedon who said “you can’t have that, it’s a piece of junk,” a useful word in any parent’s lexicon. I do, however, remember Pop Rocks and Make-it Bakeit, sleds, bikes, legos up the kazokas so yr childhood wasn’t all *that* deprived. um, the train set, complete with bells and whistles, little plastic things that we kept stepping on in the night, the matchbox menagerie and… and… but owait, in retrospect we all stacked cordwood instead of playing and went to bed on gruel and all the water that clung to the tines of a fork.

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