What they say: "As long as the kyte of the boy and girl sweethear pigs are stuck together, the girl(boy) pig would make the sound 'bobo' as if they were kissing, and then the girl(boy) pig would say: 'I LOVE YOU!' Their face would both turn red during the time they are saying these words. It's so funny! What's more, they will make these interesting action only when a girl pig meet a boy pig, and there will no response when two boy pigs or two girl pigs meet together."
These fuzzy pigs are a great teaching tool to warn your kids about the evils of homosexuality. I can almost see the educational drama playing out before a gawping toddler as his earnest, but evil, father demonstrates why gay is wrong.
"Do you see, little Billy? When I stick a boy pig to a girl (boy) pig with a kite they kiss, but when I stick the boy (girl) pig to the other boy pig with a kite nothing happens."
Fifteen years later the kid's father will be sitting in his recliner and reading the paper when he spots a terrible headline.
It won't take him long to recognize the calling card mentioned in the article: "bobo" scrawled on the wall in the victim's blood. From there it's only a matter of months until his son is caught and convicted. A few years after that the kid will be a song on a Nick Cave concept album and nobody wants that for their kid.
What they say: "The frog can be changed in different eyes. Children can eat candies when they enjoy toy."
This toy sounds like a pretty straightforward and crappy Pez rip-off with customizable eyes, but I sensed something special about the product and the company when I read Wellwin's corporate bio.
"Standing in the competition of today's business world, we advocate WIN. Our aim is 'to win, to wellwin, to wellwin the world' with our best service on new designs, fine workmanship, high quality and favorable price."
I would have placed this hunk of junk higher on the list, but I am a personal advocate of win and I can't help but empathize with the manufacturer. Empathy aside, this toy is wellshit.
Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
Ignore the hype. Find out how these games will likely go right or wrong.
It is said the Lord did write upon the sky, "Only the Most Awful shall be cataloged herein." And a wind did come and blow away the words and turn them into a skull. And the writers did fall upon their knees and give thanks, for yea, the Most Awful was good. Thus the lists were born. Read them, sons and daughters, and be strong.