Yet another year, yet another missed birthday — and more than a year-long wait between posts, to boot! What can I say, I'm a busy busy boy in 2024, constantly at work typing away at websites more lucrative than this one.
For more on this, check out EZIYODA, where I talk about video games, pop culture, and other anonymous bullshit. Or check out Late to the Party, my monthly anime column for Crunchyroll. Or check out PornHub. I don't have anything there, but it's still a fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
Before you depart, however, you might like to indulge yourself with the eulogy of poor old T.K.. Though I typically use the term metaphorically, I'm afraid that today's entry is in actual fact not long for this world.
Premiering circa 1991, the Koosh Kins were a spinoff series of the rubbery toy meant to inject personality (aka increased marketability) into the brand. Other than being pelted by Rosie O'Donnell with the damned things, Kooshes had really remained fairly nondescript up to this point.
Now, they had faces! And arms! And they were allegedly out of control!!
Call me cynical, but I feel as though the above toys look very much in control. If there's any kind of shenanigans going on, I'd be more inclined to hold the kids brandishing them accountable. Not only are they treating these possessions somewhat recklessly, but they're also far too close to one another in order for this Koosh orgy to take place.
Stand the fuck back, Kevin, I'm just trying to hang out with my homie T.K. here.
Keen Toy Eulogy historians might recall that we've already dealt with a Koosh ball named T.K. many moons ago, as part of the Koosh Lings line. Despite the shared moniker coupled with a "cool guy McCool" demeanour, I have no reason to believe that these lads are in any way related. Apparently the team at OddzOn Products just really liked the name T.K..
With their varied appearances and Muppet-like miens, the Lings are my preferred party invitees, and yet it was the Kins who received their own Archie Comic miniseries. There, they were reimagined as fun-loving aliens with wacky catchphrases. Part of me wonders if that's where Michael Bay would get the idea from for Transformers. Another part of me is delighted that autocorrect originally called them "unloving aliens", which sounds like an awful idea for a comic book.
Obviously, the real deal is much less charismatic than his comic book counterpart. T.K. has never once called me a dude, nor tipped his sunglasses to flash me a knowing glance. He's occasionally called me fat and recommended I start watching A Touch of Frost, but beyond that, nothing of note.
Tragically, the main reason T.K. caught my eye today after years of quiet inaction, is because he is molting, or should I perhaps say, melting, with the fury of a thousand suns!
You'll have to assume those were fairly lukewarm suns, but the point remains: the fella is falling apart.
I've done a quick Google search of this phenomenon, but either nobody else in the world is suffering through this affliction to their Kooshes, or nobody else in the world cares enough to discuss it online. Even keener Toy Eulogy historians will perhaps have flashbacks to Slumber Bunny Pip, yet another Koosh Ling whose once luscious locks disintegrated into mush.
In that instance, it was only her hair that was causing issues. T.K., on the other hand, is fast becoming a choking hazard. Not for myself, of course, but for curious cats and any infant crawling around the house that I hadn't been aware of.
I'm often blinded by nostalgia — the primary reason this blog exists in the first place — but I cannot justify salvaging a shedding Koosh any more than I could in maintaining leaking sand lizards.
So yes, we must salute T.K. one final time before he is jettisoned for good. We'll whisper nice things into his ear, claiming that he's 'radical', or even 'one bodacious dude'. Then afterwards, we'll have to go on a widespread hunt to see if other Kooshes are fucking up my toy storage in similar fashion.
It was an inglorious end to an unspectacular life, T.K., but you did it with style. I only hope there's plenty of pizza for you up in Koosh heaven (or Koosh hell, as I suspect he was likely a drug runner for the cartel).
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