Monday, March 7, 2005

Bag of Crap #1


From the heavens it arrived, begging to be opened and loved with reckless abandon.


I knew what I had to do… review!  With a comically low price tag of 45 cents, this bag of junk deserved to be looked at with closer detail.  Just what exactly did it contain, and why was it capturing my attention in such a manner?


First off, a Spider-Man ball.  This thing could have been a kid’s meal prize, or something even stupider.  For what it’s worth, it will never be used again as shortly after I discarded it via throwing it into a neighbor’s yard.  Farewell.


There are many beautiful things in the World, and this is certainly not one of them.  What in the hell is this?  Someone out there must know the truth.  From what I can gather it’s a robotic insect hybrid with big eyes.  Next!


Just what I’ve always wanted, a plastic screwdriver!  Dumb.  Although, upon closer inspection I found the Lego name was on this, so that brings it up a few notches on the scale.  What scale you ask?  You know, the fluorescent plastic tool scale established in Boston in 1978?  It exists.  Yes, it does…


Here’s something extremely pointless.  I fumbled around with these two contraptions for all of 10 seconds before tossing them aside.  Other than being made in China, I know absolutely nothing about these.


A propeller?  My first guess was that it had something to do with the two objects above.  But, after trying to use them in conjunction, I found my efforts entirely fruitless and wasted.  Alas, it’s just a lonely propeller.


Probably the coolest thing in the bag, this renegade homeboy looks mighty tough on his motorcycle, all the while keeping in touch with his love for fashion, wearing purple pants and what appears to be a large bronze arm.


The most insipid spider web decoration ever.


When I first caught a glimpse of this thing I was excited.  It’s a kid’s meal toy and from the Transformers series, which rocks.  Then, after looking my prize over, I noticed it was broken and missing a good percentage of the actual toy itself.  It doesn’t get much shittier than this, folks, but there’s still one gift left.


What every collection of toys needs, a gun, of course!  Nothing better to get the idea of firearms as a plus in kid’s heads than by giving them toy counterparts of the real life thing at a young age.  The most mysterious thing about this gun, however, isn’t its violently bright orange shade, but the letter “M” written on its handle.  What does the letter represent, is it a sign, or just youthful scribble?  Somebody knows the answer, and they’re not telling.  I believe there are more bags of junk in my future.

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