Lowbrow Answer: Stinky Pete (Toy Story 2)
He's old. He's fat. And he smells. Remind me again why we're supposed to be afraid of him? I feel like even Jessie the Yodelin' Cowgirl could have beaten the shit out of this doofwang. Although, I guess that would have made for a pretty anti-climactic film:
Woody: Quick Buzz, we have to get out of here before Stinky Pete shows up!
Jessie: Stinky Pete? Are you serious? That's who we're running from? He's like an Alzheimer's Santa Clause.
Jessie stops. Turns. Bitch-slaps Stinky Pete, who falls to the floor crying.
Buzz: Good work, Jessie. Well. That solves that problem. Hmmm. So. Umm. You guys wanna go get a beer or something?
Middlebrow Answer: Sid (Toy Story)
Can we get this kid some Ritalin? Or maybe a lobotomy? And where the hell are his parents while he's using illegal explosives and setting fires? You know how sometimes you see those serial killers on the news who have murdered and skinned 36 women using only an ice-cream scoop and you wonder where the hell they came from? Sid. Sid is where they came from.
You do have to admire his artistry though. He's got a Doctor-Mengele-meets-FAO-Schwartz thing going on. Some of his creations look like those weird little Japanese toys that sell for $16 a pop. What a racket. I should start cutting the heads off barbie dolls and replacing them with fishing hooks and razor blades. I'll call them, "Barbie Mauls" and make a fortune. I'll probably get rich way faster that way then with this Cocaine business I've got going. Damn junkies always asking to pay on layaway.
Highbrow Answer: Lots-O'-Higgin' Bear (Toy Story 3)
This dude is twisted. He lures you in with his delightful laughter and his stomach that smells like fresh strawberries only to tear you away from your friends and lock you in a prison. He's the Adolf Hitler of plush toys. (Historical Fun Fact: Hitler suffered from a rare genetic condition that caused his stomach to smell like Alabama Sweet Cherries)
And how about his henchmen? Jesus. I'm going to have nightmares about "Big Baby" until the day I die. There's nothing scarier than fucked-up looking children. Well, maybe spiders. With their furry legs and those little fangs. And don't even get me started on snakes. Sheesh. Give me the willies.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Best Fad Toy?
Lowbrow Answer: The Boomerang
Let me get this straight. I throw it, and it comes back. I throw it again, and it comes back again. I throw it a third time and... well, you get the point. Or, perhaps more appropriately, the complete lack thereof. Boomerangs were only fun for those kids who ate a lot of paste and had their name sewn to the outside of every piece of clothing they owned. Poor, dumb bastards.
I hate Australia. With their stupid accents and their shrimp on the barbie and their Crocodile Dundee. And what's the deal with Koalas? They look so cute and then when I try to pet one, it rips my esophagus out through my eye sockets. Mean little prick. No wonder you're endangered. Maybe if you were a little nicer, I'd stop cutting down your Eucalyptus trees to print cheap pornography and X-Men comics.
Middlebrow Answer: Pet Rock
This is some existential shit. Can a rock be your friend? Is there some kind of cosmic connection between nature and humanity? If I imbue an inanimate object with my own set of emotions, does that object become animate? How can light be both a particle and a wave? If a tree falls in the woods and nobody is around to hear it, does that mean we're still inside the Matrix? Am I the only thing that's real, or is reality real and I'm just a version of myself inside that reality? E.T. phone home?
To be fair, however, punch yourself in the face if you ever bought one of these. It's just a rock. Like, a rock. Ya know, one of those stony things outside on the ground. You've heard of "outside" right? It's that place you go when you aren't strapped to your computer at your trivial job, sipping a double-double whipless half-caf mochachino and updating your Facebook status to: "Sipping a double-double whipless half-caf mochachino!"
Highbrow Answer: The Rubik's Cube
Remember how playing with one of these wasn't any fun? How you'd just spin the sides over and over until the thing feel apart and your dog started using it as a chew toy? Remember how your parents would encourage you to try and figure it out, even though you were much happier eating mud or shoving army men up your nose? Of course you remember all that. You're proletariat filth with no respect for three-dimensional geometry or mathematics.
The cube was created in 1974 by Hungarian sculptor and architect Erno Rubik. Those Hungarians. They can do anything. They invented ballpoint pens, noiseless matches, and holography. Their country was founded by direct descendants of Atila the Hun. (Hence, "Hun"gary) They have the highest rates of male cancer and female suicide in Europe. Ah, female suicide. The great trump card in the game of highbrow poker.
Let me get this straight. I throw it, and it comes back. I throw it again, and it comes back again. I throw it a third time and... well, you get the point. Or, perhaps more appropriately, the complete lack thereof. Boomerangs were only fun for those kids who ate a lot of paste and had their name sewn to the outside of every piece of clothing they owned. Poor, dumb bastards.
I hate Australia. With their stupid accents and their shrimp on the barbie and their Crocodile Dundee. And what's the deal with Koalas? They look so cute and then when I try to pet one, it rips my esophagus out through my eye sockets. Mean little prick. No wonder you're endangered. Maybe if you were a little nicer, I'd stop cutting down your Eucalyptus trees to print cheap pornography and X-Men comics.
Middlebrow Answer: Pet Rock
This is some existential shit. Can a rock be your friend? Is there some kind of cosmic connection between nature and humanity? If I imbue an inanimate object with my own set of emotions, does that object become animate? How can light be both a particle and a wave? If a tree falls in the woods and nobody is around to hear it, does that mean we're still inside the Matrix? Am I the only thing that's real, or is reality real and I'm just a version of myself inside that reality? E.T. phone home?
To be fair, however, punch yourself in the face if you ever bought one of these. It's just a rock. Like, a rock. Ya know, one of those stony things outside on the ground. You've heard of "outside" right? It's that place you go when you aren't strapped to your computer at your trivial job, sipping a double-double whipless half-caf mochachino and updating your Facebook status to: "Sipping a double-double whipless half-caf mochachino!"
Highbrow Answer: The Rubik's Cube
Remember how playing with one of these wasn't any fun? How you'd just spin the sides over and over until the thing feel apart and your dog started using it as a chew toy? Remember how your parents would encourage you to try and figure it out, even though you were much happier eating mud or shoving army men up your nose? Of course you remember all that. You're proletariat filth with no respect for three-dimensional geometry or mathematics.
The cube was created in 1974 by Hungarian sculptor and architect Erno Rubik. Those Hungarians. They can do anything. They invented ballpoint pens, noiseless matches, and holography. Their country was founded by direct descendants of Atila the Hun. (Hence, "Hun"gary) They have the highest rates of male cancer and female suicide in Europe. Ah, female suicide. The great trump card in the game of highbrow poker.
Labels:
Australia,
Boomerang,
Pet Rock,
Rubik's Cube
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