Weird Kid Toy
hours of entertainment for someone?
Well, it might be? It depends on what kind of toy the weird kids are playing with these days? Also, I suppose, how long their attention span is? I mean, I’m entertained by just ending all of my sentences with question marks? So I may not be the best judge?
Oh look – a squirrel!
(Thanks for this submission from 2009, Erin!)
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Weird-kid toy?
Weird-toy (for) kid?
Weird toy-kid?
Kid as in small human, or as in small goat?
So many questions, so few answers.
Curse you, Monday!
Well, if it’s a toy for a weird kid, it should say “hours of entertainment for weird kid”.
If it’s a weird toy for a kid, like a bag full of fluffy’s or a vibrator, that could be entertaining for everyone. Especially if the weird kid has show and tell at school.
No, no, no. I never took a bag of fluffy’s to school…
…or a vibrator.
A bag full of fluffy’s what? Did fluffy miss the item in the bag?
Uptalk? Now available in written form? Hours of entertainment for someone? $10.00 firm OBO?
Weird, kid. Toy?
So bizarre? How weird? Like Monster High weird? Or like remote control flying pug? The mystery is killing me?
“Oh look – a squirrel?”
There, fixed it for you….
” The mystery is killing me?”
Would you like to borrow my coffin?
Hmm. A “toy” (as in bred to be smaller than a miniature) kid would probably have some appeal to the boutique pet set. Other than it would still be a goat, if a pint-sized one. Having one’s goat eat its own tote bag could weary. As would head-butting. Hmm, the less said about milking a toy nanny at the coffee shop, probably the better . . .
Weird kid toy?
hours of entertainment for someone?
Ahh…that is the question isn’t it? Whether tis nobler to suffer the slings an arrows of outrageous kid toys, or to take arms against hours of entertainment, and by kids toys end them?
That, that is the question.
It’s a box?
Does it go zip when it moves, and bop when it stops, and whir when it stands still?
SR, Amazing to see you here and what a great memory ear worm! 8)
Windy dear, I’m here every day, but I have a broken snarker and don’t have anything to contribute but adores.
I bet it’s a coffin.
No wait. I had one of those and I’m
notcompletely not weird.I guess it could be a marble. I was entertained by my marble for hours until I lost it.
I lost it. I lost it.
My green and yellow marble.
I went to play with my imaginary friend.
And on the way I lost it.
If you have a weird kid, you should get this. You know how difficult it is to shop for weird kids. I mean, look at me. Do I have any weird toys? No. I have a sock drawer full of weird underwear.
BF, Corner! Just in case.
Was that TMI?
I’m just sayin’…
Did you ever see a fox wearing underwear? I mean besides socks. Socks are easy.
Oh no. I tried a pair of boxers once. Tried to get my tail through that fly opening? You know, so they would fit properly? Had to do a lot of tugging with my teeth. Wound up tearing them. So all day I had to put up with people glaring at me for running around in my underwear, and ratty, chewed up underwear at that. You know, because I didn’t wear pants too. Weird kids were laughing at me. Can you imagine the indignity of it all? Well, from then on, I never wore another stitch of clothing other than socks on special occasions. It’s much more natural for a fox to just run around in the fur.
So I’ll go to the corner as long as nobody tries to dress me up in anything.
So that’s what the fox says. Who would’ve guessed.
That’s it! Get the socks and the cone of shame!
But do you have a weird underwear drawer full of totally ordinary socks?
Wasn’t Weird Kid Toy an unsuccessful Weird Al imitator?
When I was a young lad living in a small county seat of a town, my friends and I formed a band. We called the band “Ours is Entertainment”. I know, not the best name, but we were just kids. Interestingly enough, we went to the county fair and made an album at one of those recording bo0ths. We called the album “Weird Kid Toy”. We did songs like “Wear Something Slinky So We Can Go Down The Stairs Together”, I Got A Monopoly On Your Love”, “I Got A Tonka, Tonka Pile Of Trucks”, “Barbie Clan”, “GI Joe’s Not Anatomically Correct So My Sister Won’t Play With Him”, and “Stubbing My Toe On My Coffin”.
Strange that the album would resurface after all of these years. Seems that nobody was really entertained by it, but that was a different time.
One of the songs that didn’t make it onto the album was “My Klickety Klacks”.
*I sing*
When I was a little bitty kid.
Memaw gave me a toy, yes she did.
Two little acorns in a sack.
She told me it was my klickety klack.
*audience joins in*
Oh! My klickety klack!
Oh! My klickety klack!
I went out and played
with my klickety klack!
Cute little song, aint it? Yes it is.
*me*
Little Suzie had lost her ring.
You know I’d help her with anything.
But just when I went and turned my back.
She grabbed onto my klickety klack!
*almost everybody*
Oh! My klickety klack!
Oh! My klickety klack!
She wanted to play with
my klickety klack!
look, right up front, there are two girls singing in harmony
*me*
We went down to the swimmin’ hole.
My friend Bobby brought his fishin’ pole.
I swam out to the middle but came right back.
Because Bobby hooked my klickety klack!
*most everybody*
Oh! My klickety klack!
Oh! My klickety klack!
He got his hooks into
my clickety klack!
Look here. There’s a guy right down here singing mine. That’s alright. Live like you wanna live.
*me*
I went over to Suzie’s to play Twister.
But she wanted to slide down the banister.
I slid right down but I heard a CRACK!
I’m sure I busted my klickety klack!
*almost, but not quite everyone*
Oh! My klickety klack!
Oh! My klickety klack!
She offered to kiss it better.
Oh! My klickety klack!
Not everybody is singing along on the chorus. This next verse is dedicated to those who will not sing.
*me*
This here song, it’s just not wack.
Everyone should sing, even in the back.
If you won’t sing, you must be a hack.
Or maybe you’re playing with your own klickety klack!
*everybody*
Oh! Your klickety klack!
Oh! Your klickety klack!
You must be playing with
your klickety klack!
Oh! My klickety klack!
In my little sack!
I wanna to play with
my klickety klack! Everybody!
My! Oh My! Slow down.
I want to play with
Myyyy…..klickety klaaaaack!
Side note: Clackers or Klackers or Klick Klackers were removed from stores when I was a kid because they were considered dangerous.
There were other verses to this song, but we didn’t use them.
This first one we never used because of copywrite infringement. This other song by these other guys had lyrics close to ours and we didn’t want them to sue our pants off. Then we would have to go around in our underwear and we didn’t want to get treated like the local fox.
Once I was climbing the garden wall.
I slipped and had a turrible fall.
I fell smack down onto my back.
But held on to my klickety klack.
Oh! My klickety klack!
Oh! My klickety klack!
I held on tight to
my klickety klack.
This next one is a true verse. It really happened.
Brenda was jealous of her sister Sue.
She wanted to see me turn black and blue.
I really wished she would have cut me slack.
Every day she kicked my klickety klack.
Oh! My klickety klack!
Oh! My klickety klack!
She kept on bruising
my klickety klack.
This next verse is dedicated to one of our own.
I wanted to dress up really cute.
So Taco lent me his squirrel suit.
The other squirrels got a whiff of my sack.
They all started gnawing on my klickety klack.
Oh! My klickety klack!
Oh! My klickety klack!
My all natural, organic
klickety klack!
Most people would be thrilled and flattered to have a toy produced/named after them.
I was not amused. Terrible childhood memories.
I know what you mean.
If you gotta go.
Don’t stifle the flow.
It’ll spatter when it hits the ground.
Don’t fling this thing, this yellowish spring.
Everyone knows it’s P…….e!
It’s P…….e! It’s P…….e!
It smells. It’s yellow. It’s wet.
It’s P…….e! It’s P…….e!
It even comes out of your pet!
Side: I would like to say at this time, that I have never been affiliated with this product. But spiderlings are mean and I have suffered much teasing due to this product’s name and mine.