I love robot sofubi. I especially love Gundam sofubi. Minister Alt is to blame for this.. That’s right YOU, it’s all your fault you cheap bastard. Well, in reality, they certainly are not cheap anymore. Such total CRAP! The perfect kind in my opinion..
I have an unrequited love for carded sets of Gundam sofubi. Unfortunately, they are often elusive and very sought after these days. This one in particular is just amazing:
Gotta catch em all!! har har… Nevermind..
According to the Center for Disease Control, the first sign of zinc poisoning is usually intestinal distress, followed by a metallic taste in the mouth. I couldn’t agree more. These zinc-alloy Gundam figurines — I hesitate to call them toys — are appalling playthings even by my disturbingly low standards. Yet I felt compelled to force my sister to win them off of ebay for me nonetheless. (Yes, I have sunk this low: I cancelled my ebay account, only to beg bids off of family members. Just shoot me now.)
Released by Clover, the little toy company that tried but never quite “got it” when it came to things Gundam, these all-metal figures represent a pinnacle of sorts, though I can’t tell if it’s a high or a low one. Hell, they even ran out of paint halfway through the run!
I desperately want to say something witty here to salvage some pride and wrap this up, but I’ve got to run and gargle to get this metallic taste out of my mouth.
You know you want one of these..
I’m totally into the inflatables right now. All the companies made them of just about every character. Keep an eye out for a group shot coming soon.
I’m a huge fan. If it comes in a little plastic purse for me to carry around I love it even more. These are the red headed stepchildren of Gundam collecting for a reason. They are absolutely terrible. They are “BAD”. In my opinion they are Michael Jackson “BAD”. Or as Run D.M.C. would say “Not bad meaning bad, but bad meaning good!”. Yep.
I admit it. I’m koo-koo for soft vinyl robots. Not just any robots: they’ve got to be “real” robot characters from the Eighties. Why? Because nobody else cares, and I’ve taken it upon myself, like Mother Theresa, to give these leprous bastard children the cardboard box under my stairs they so richly deserve. And this is your lucky day, because you get to meet the undisputed king of my collection: the Clover “Treker (sic) Beagle Treker Cruser (sic) The Main Machine of ‘The Gorilla’ (sic)” Srungle. Sick. Intended for mental ages of five or lesser, it is an impressionist, shroomy portrayal of a robot that looks like an ambulatory coffee maker at the best of times. Let the Srung times roll with a trip back to the old Srungle datafile.