Dreams Really Do Come True -- I Got a Castle Greyskull.

There's a few things everyone wants out of life. Maybe a real classy car. A jetpack. Hell, maybe even a million bucks wrapped around bars of gold like bacon. Me? I'll take any three of those, actually. But I'll have to settle for what's a tad bit lower on the list. And, you know, actually affordable. And plausible.

I got a Castle Greyskull that's cool too yeah!

I can't claim to be a kid of the 80's. The closest I came was at least being able to register my own existance in '89, allowing everything before that time to come in as hallucinogenic, dreamlike visions and confusing, life-defining moments. No, I'm not working up the courage to admit to being touched, but giving you all the sense that my mind has been warped and shaped by the stupidest, most inane shit. I can still remember getting the Max Rebo Band playset, complete with big, blue Rebo himself, and a hippo playing a flute, for one of my earliest birthdays. I'm still weirded out by my older brother's D&D toys and "Choose Your Own Adventure" books, all these years later. Something affected me at a young age. I'm gonna blame it on the constant flow of amazing yet oddly mature toys for young kids. I can't tell what's going on today with the youngsters, but it semmed that back then, everything was either based in talking skeletons to witches with giant swords to twelve year old spies shooting commies in the face.



I picked this up at a local, secure location I'm not yet sure I want to reveal. Whereabouts unknown kinda stuff, ya know? But the place in question doubles as a comic book shop and a yardsale, specializing in loose, superhero action figures and everything else a 4 year old boy would go nuts over. My kinda place, really. I'm sure you could find this magical hole-in-the-wall-treasure trove if you really cared, but that would require caring.

I usually end up with superhero junk and all that I can be tempted with that's buried in the glass case near the register. It's mostly anything old-school WWF or outright bug-like. Big, insectoidd eyes and those gross, feeler things are a plus. I do appreciate the bagging technique, though (all your purchases are thrown in either a used Target or random grocery bag) giving you the perfect camouflage to resume the day in un-embarrassed peace. Nerdcrap is a whole lot less stressful to deal with when it's hidden behind a disguise of normal consumerism. Don't worry, ladies! I was only shopping at Sharper Image! Or the weight lifting store! You may now resume loving me.

But this time! This time...I struck gold. Plastic gold.

I fondly remember waging battle upon battle inside these walls. It was never any He-Man figures doing the damage, it was usually GI Joe or Robocop versus a GI Joe. Robocop would always win, due to his exterior being made of metal, but maybe it was because I just favor shiny things. Either way, the Greyskull was Jimmy's. At least I think so. And at least I think he even owned one. It may have very well been a knock-off, or a chapter in one of my complete, dillusional and made up childhood memories. Which is possible, because as time goes by, I think I'm slowly starting to create my own backstory. I figure I might as well start making up some good shit then.

But either way, I still like to think fondly of this beast, or at least I like to think that I thank fondly of it. Thunked? Thankeded?

And the reason a Rancor sits atop the highest peak of Greyskull is a simple one -- because it looks cool. I totally picked that up, too, at the Mysterious Shop of Shame. Davey was over, decided it must be done, did it, and there ya go. The most sexy thing you've ever seen. It's just so beautiful. Tears of love.

I also picked up a crapload of figures! I finally got Hordak (yes!) and most of the Horde, including Captain SuckMouth, shown above. I'd picture them all, but I fear a complete blog implosion when the allowed, free bandwith runs thin. I've gotta be choosey when it comes to posting pictures. And I choose to showcase Captain SuckMouth. Captain SuckMouth, meet your destiny.

Best thing about having a blog? You can end it whenever you want!

Later, guys!

Oh, and check out the latest installment of Davey's late night, video-editing obsessions:

If you like straightforward, in your face Calabrese propaganda...you're gonna love this!;)