Looking for that perfect, non-denominational Holiday Gift for your Christmas Warrior? Look no further than "Milky! The Marvelous Milking Cow!"
Obscene? A little. Unnatural? You bet! Creep out the Bill O'Reilly fan on your list and put this thing under their heavily taxed Christmas Tree!
Then, while the kids are manufacturing fake milk out of weird chemical dust, you can make fake eggnog! Once you've poured in a pint of Captain Morgan, you won't care where the hell it came from! (Psst! It came from Union Carbide).
I remember watching that ad during Saturday morning cartoons - I also recall my brother and me being amazed in a train wreck sort of way at the WTF nature of it, and that was when we were no more than 7 or 8 at the time.
I was slightly older, Uglucks, but had the exact same reaction when I saw that commercial. It's one of those "WHAT were they thinking?" toys.
They were probably thinking, "Well, we've got a design for a cheap plastic pump that can suck up water. But what do we do with it?"
"We could make a racehorse that pees."
"No-o-o-o, but you're on the right track..."
Personally, I'd like to hear an explanation of the design process that led to huge Steven Tyler lips on the cow.
I'm STILL trying to get MY plastic polled Hereford bull (not polled originally, but that's what they get for giving it to a two-year-old with anger issues!!!) back from the Fallen Uterus, as well as the apparently ONLY copy of the portrait of me as a crying 3-year-old clutching said Hereford whilst being shrieked into obedience by said Fallen Uterus.
Never had any animals that excreted anything, that I can recall, all of MY toys were fucking BABY DOLLS, play dishes, hand-me-down/yard-sale "kitchen" appliances/pretend-furniture out of loverly tin. Teh F.U. was planning on me turning out like HER, in other words. Always got SOOOO pissed that I wanted the livestock and the Tonka trucks... so at least I did SOMETHING right, eh?
Oh, I *did* have a baby doll that peed & pooed as soon as you fed it, a rather inefficient and unrealistic design, not to mention the fact that one ran out of "diapers" in a DAY and the F.U. wasn't thrilled to be sharing her fuckin' paper towels. Then don't give me EXCRETORY TOYS, DUMBASS!!!!!!
P.S. Scott: Those aren't Steven Tyler lips, either the originals or the five plastic-surgery sets. Those are Angelina Jolie Face-Vagina(C) "Lips," available now from RONCO!!!
And Mary? I'd wager that it was more Monsanto or the precursors to what became globe-eating/famine-producing scumbags aka CON-Agra. Accent on the "con," of course. Scumbags. Triple-serving of douchebag for Monsanto. I wonder how many stupid kids DRANK that chemical excretion before it was yanked off of the market?
(And yes, that painful udder image just sliced through my head, and sorry, 'twas NOT intended!!!)
There IS a toy currently on the market, which our store carries, that is just as horrible, if not worse:
Have you seen these?
They're little plush dolls with O-shaped mouths that produce creepy devil-like sounds when you press their tummy.
I swear, they really, really creep me out. If I was a child, I'd be afraid of them.
Beats the hell out of those neolithic, originally-designed-in-1919 "Maaa-Maa!" soft squeezy-dolls, often featured in Hitchcock's and fans of his films/TV shows to give just that perfect touch of childlike evil in the pre-"Shining" days... same mechanism as those canned cows, where you turn the can upside down and the weighted bellows makes it do a long, drawn-out, tortured-sounding "mooooouuuuuhhhhh." That would be a FABULOUS GIFT for the PETA fucktard on your shopping list, btw.
What I hate about going out in public, especially Wally World or Dollar General these days, is that there are these almost-television displays mounted on EVERY OTHER FUCKING END-CAP, and as soon as they sense the approach of a warm body, THEY START TALKING *TO* YOU, which I consider to be far too forward, rude, intrusive, and outright fucking CREEPY AS ALL HELL!!! You don't KNOW ME, bitch, so don't presume that you have my permission to DISCUSS MY FEMININE HYGIENE PRODUCTS (or dog food, as NO retailer gives a flying RAT-FUCK about CATS, especially in the PUPPY=GIVING SEASON!!!, or dish soap or deodorant or denture cream, etc.!!!)!!!
Aeon Flux had less-creepy, almost-less-invasive "technology," fer fuck's sake, and, as flawed as the screenplay was, and as far as it was from THE ORIGINAL in every sense, at least it starred my pretend-girlfriend, Charliiiiiizzzzze.
(TRUNCATED BY FUCKING BLOGGER!!!)
Oh, and then, if you are unfortunate enough to be stuck out in the boonies, having to frequent retail shit-holes like Fred's Super-Ghetto Store, you can hear worn-down-battery/beaten-to-fuck-and-back DOLLS, not action figures, not poseable likenesses, but soft-plush-stuffed fucking DOLLS of Jeff Foxworthy (yeah, HE'S so redneck, he's got a fucking Masters in code-writing and left his WHITE-COLLAR JOB AT fucking IMB to go on the road and pretend that HE'S a so-called "redneck," when he's never broken a sweat doing an honest day's labor in his LIFE!!) Larry The Pedophile-Looking Cable Guy (no further commentary needed THERE) AND, what really kills me, Bill Engvall, one of the two of the quartet who has a few actual brain cells left to rub together over topics more complex than PROFIT MARGINS. I still don't know what "HEEEEERRRRRE'S YOUR SIGN!" means,and I'm okay with that, but I still can't believe Engvall needed the money THAT fucking badly.
At least the HONEST redneck on that tour, a man who walks the walk and talks the talk and could drink a 1996 ME under the fucking table, Ron "Tater Salad" White (I liked him before I ever heard of the nickname) -- RON, to my knowledge, never consented to have his voice, his comedic material, OR his likeness slapped onto these horrifically-anatomically-incorrect DOLLS from the ass-end of nowhere, China.
Dunno if they'll be putting out new ones this year, but I bet, if you go to that Fred's Super Ghetto Store where that lying skank redneck trailer-trash skank lied to us all about Lee having a "brain tumor," you can still find one on those very same filthier-than-a-parish-health-unit-bathroom shelves.
Sorry, Bill, didn't mean to hijack yer thread there, darling, I just got a little carried away. I don't generally WANT machines to talk to me, be they vehicles, GPS, computerized random-dialers that are SUPPOSED to be fucking ILLEGAL, hospitals/dr.'s offices calling to confirm appointments and you have to wait FIVE MINUTES to get to the part where you can push the button TO CONFIRM, obnoxiously-loud "ring tones" of rap songs, cunt-ry "songs," cartoon voices, Pohler chainsaws, ET CETERA, ET CETERA.
(TRUNCATED A-FUCKING-GAIN!!! )
(LAST ONE, I PROMISE, MARY, AND BILL!!!!!! Then I will shut the fuck up and crawl back into my cave where I belong, I promise!!!)
(P.S.: *FUCK* BLOGGER!!!)
I don't like machines that tell ME shit, *I* am the one that's supposed to be giving the stupid machines THE ORDERS, capice? Plus, the only talking doll I ever had, "Baby Ann," as it turns out, wasn't as waterproof as was advertised, and one vague bath rendered her as mute and useless as a groom at a Kardashian wedding. To this day, I don't like machines that talk to me. If you can't spare a minimum-wage HUMAN BEING to talk to me, THEN GO THE FUCK AWAY until you CAN.
Any other good nightmare-inducing toys that you can remember, Bill? That pee-and-poop doll STILL gives me the shivers, if only from the yelling from the F.U. to STOP WASTING HER FUCKING PAPER TOWELS... I'd asked Santa for a Tri-Lab Kit and a Tonka Truck. I got a scatological BABY DOLL and more yelling. Wheeeeeeee. I fucking HATE this, the most crassly-commercial invented-entirely-out-of-whole-cloth-by-teh-Unholy-Roman-EMPIRE so-called fucking formerly-Druidic "holiday" and every dime that is spent upon it.
If you are fortunate enough to be able to give gifts to your friends, grocery store gift cards, electrical-company/co-op credits (yes, it is possible, I've done it for a friend before, believe it or not), even that most-evil of all Chinese merchandizing monoliths, Wally World --- if your friends are in the same shape as everybody else this year, especially like Scott & Mary, as well as Sheri's boundless generosity towards critters of literally EVERY description, PetSmart or Tractor Supply gift cards would be VERY thoughtful, if not outright PayPal cash (I'm working on it, y'all, I prmoise!!!), even gift cards for postage for goody boxes from the USPS, you can help get a friend a leg-up in SO many ways this year, and none of them come from a fucking SHOPPING MALL, thank fuck.
Okay, sermon over. Back to evil toys & dolls that create horrifying noises, excretions, and other inadvertently-amusing perversities.
You would have thought that Kenner, flush with all that Easy Bake oven and Play-Doh money, could have paid for a songwriter with the ability to write a lyric that rhymes: "She's raising her head / its milkin time now / her pre-tend milk /is-a feelin the pail"? I've heard better rhymes at the Aphasia Society's Annual Rap Battle
I'd also like to nominate the Oozinator as the most disturbing toy of all time.
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