Playmobil Zombie Pirates? Of Course!

I've never really liked pirates. Between the current (well, semi-current) obsession with Disney's most boring ride turned into three, boring movies, it's really left a weird, Deppy taste in my mouth.

Naw, I'm being too harsh. Pirates are pretty cool. Swashbuckling and pillaging and being a badass are all things I can support. But obviously, anything will turn into a stomach-churning, boring mess when it's overtly used in all sorts of mediums ranging from cliche tattoos to really weird, Steven Tyler mixed with Cyndi Lauper-esque fashion statements. Plus, the "Pirates" movies weren't that bad. Granted, I've only seen the first one and almost fell asleep in the second one, but it really did seem to lose it's charm quick.

Oh, what was my point? Ah, right. I found some cool zombie-pirates!

I've always liked Playmobil toys. It's kind of a creepy statement to make, since I've only actually invested legitimate time with the things since my teen years. Although, I remember Jimmy had a castle when I was a youngster, maybe, that was Playmobil oriented, which had a few knights with reallyreally neat looking horses, but I've never actually been knee-deep in the stuff. I can't tell you the history or origins of the toy company, but what I can tell you is that they make figurines and vehicles and buildings ranging from the most insane, outerspace and otherworldly, to the most mundane, boring, "why was this made into a toy?" design. You can snag yourself a moon-scavaging playset, or the group of figurines and vehicles detailing the inner workings of the airport. You into dangerous, underwater sea adventures? Or what about taxi drivers or the gas station attendant set instead? It's this idea, that nothing is too mediocre or dull that keeps me coming back for more. And yeah, I actually own that Playmobil taxi, complete with taxi driver. It even comes with luggage! For the taxi's trunk! Gleeee!

This blog is, essentially, my diary. My shameful, shameful diary.


Overall, pretty nice. They come with an array of battle gear, skeletal clothing (or is that they are, in fact, nothing but bones? You decide!) and one has frighteningly orange hair. I like that. But to be honest, one of the main goals I've secretly harbored while perusing the aisles of the Toys R Us was to demand countdown satisfaction during Christmastime. That, and to not look like a pervert while speed walking through the little girl/Barbie/stroller section to get to the good stuff. This good stuff:

Countdown satisfaction! I've wanted this for a while now, maybe this year I'll pony up the dough. Basically, starting December 1st, for every day, you open up a secret compartment, filled with a tiny, token of Christmasy fun (in this case, it's a pinecone or a dirty raccoon) leading up to the grand finale on December 25th -- Santa Claus and all the woodland creatures celebrating the birth of potatos. The cover and general marketing idea makes you think you'll be riding down the religious route, but as soon as you notice the basket of 'taters they're huddled around, you'll be able to rest easy, you heathens. Trust me.

Wanting this is quite the testament to my growing immaturity and willingness to easily throw away twenty bucks, since I'm destined to stare at the box lovingly, open it lovingly and then, quite lovingly, throw it in the hallway closet.

Merry X-Mas!