One thing that myself and many other AFOLs (adult fans of LEGO®) are getting really tired of is the increasing amount of stickers in recent sets. Back in the day, just about any special brick had printing on it, be it a road sign, computer terminal, or logo. There were a few stickers here and there, but most special bricks were printed. Nowadays, however, it’s the complete opposite. Printed bricks are few and far between, and those blasted stickers are everywhere! Even pieces that used to be printed (like the 2×2 round tiles with the Imperial symbol from Star Wars) now use stickers instead! This is irritating for many reasons, the most obvious being that stickers aren’t as durable as the original printed bricks. Plus, even for skilled modelers, the slightest misapplication of a sticker can make the resulting piece stand out like a sore thumb.

So what’s the cause? Laziness? Cheaper production costs? Probably a bit of column A and column B. Either way, we’re shit outta luck.

I mentioned it in my Twitter feed, but it bears repeating here. A big “screw you” goes out to Target, for the particular sale item they’re spotlighting on Black Friday. (That’s the Friday after Thanksgiving, for those of you visitng from Mars.) Allow me to explain. Lately, Target’s been restocking the LEGO® Imperial Star Destroyer.

Originally released in 2006, this big-ass set retails for $99.99. Given my current financial situation, throwing down $100 on a LEGO® set is most certainly not in the cards, nor will it be for a very long time. It’s like Target brought the thing back just to fuck with me. Oh, but wait…it gets worse. On Black Friday, that set’s being marked down to $59.99.

Motherfuckers! That’s a huge deal; 40% off a large-scale set is nothing to scoff at! Why couldn’t they have done that shit over the summer, when I actually had the cash? There’s no way I could justify that purchase right now, massive deal or not.

Furthermore, I absolutely despise the very concept of Black Friday. The overcommercialization of the Christmas season is as disgusting to me as the fundamentalist Christians who try to jam the religious nature of their adopted-from-the-pagans holiday in everyone’s faces. There, I’ve played both sides of the fence, so no one can say I’m unfair. Eat me. Anyway, getting up early to deal with crowds of assholes fighting over deals on fucking toys and other stuff is not my idea of a good time. Human nature sickens me, and nowhere is that more apparent than Christmas shopping. Screw that noise. I refuse to even leave my apartment on Black Friday; I’d much rather enjoy myself playing games or reading a book. In fact, I won’t even go shopping online! Let those mindless sheep fight their way through the malls of our nation. I’ll stay home stress-free, thanks.

Though I still hate what Target’s done. Jerks.

I saw some action figures from Hellboy II: The Golden Army at my local Toys R Us the other day, and after doing a bit of a double-take, I immediately got very angry. No, not because they were shoved at the end of an aisle to make room for the smorgasbord of Star Wars, Transformers, and WWE figures. It’s because of what was done to the packaging, and the likely reasons why.

The Hellboy II figures are not advertised under the film’s name, you see. Instead of the movie logo, there’s a stylized, shortened version that simply reads HBII. The only place on the package where the full name appears is in some tiny legalese on the bottom of the back. You can see where I’m going with this, but trust me, it gets worse. The action figure of the hero of the film, Hellboy himself? He’s not even called by his proper name. What, pray tell, does the package claim his name is?

“Red.”

No, I’m not fucking with you. You might want to read it twice. Instead of using his actual name, the powers-that-be opted for his nickname/codename. This makes no logical sense, because on the official website, they’re clearly labeled as Hellboy II: The Golden Army figures, and the title character is named correctly.

So why the change? Think really hard, people. Remember, I said the changes make no logical sense. And what’s a longstanding enemy of logic? Self-proclaimed “morality.” I’m guessing that uppity, holier-than-thou parents didn’t want their precious little children to see the word “hell” on a toy package. This is complete and utter bullshit, as there’s no shortage of other products (like video games) that have the ol’ H-E-double-hockey-sticks on them. (Including, of course, the sadly crappy Hellboy games.) Not to mention the fact that television shows have no problem dropping the H-bomb in casual conversation; that often includes cartoons, commercials, and even the evening news! Last but not least, the Hellboy II toys themselves aren’t violent, gory, or anything like that. However, there’s plenty of toys that are rather bloody, and you can find them in the same aisle.

Protecting your child is one thing. Blinding them to the realities of the modern world is another. The word “hell” isn’t harmful; it’s just a word. Grow up and cut your kids some damn slack. Ironically, many of the parents who complain the most about words like “hell” are extremely religious. If that’s not a double standard, I don’t know what is.

As a longtime fan of both LEGO® toys and Star Wars (don’t worry, I still hate the prequels), it’s only natural that I’d collect many of the LEGO® Star Wars building sets. While there’s plenty to love about them, there’s also an equal number of things to gripe about. The 800-pound gorilla in the room is the often-high price of the toys, but we’re going to focus more narrowly on a specific part of the LEGO® Star Wars that really blows the financial aspect out of proportion, and that is the miniature figures (commonly known as minifigs).

Collectors knew from the get-go that not only would it be great to have LEGO® representations of their favorite Star Wars ships and locales, but also the legendary characters that the saga has given us. While the cost of various sets goes up considerably over time (after they’re phased out of the primary market), the prices of the minifigs alone really rockets up into the stratosphere. I’ve known more than one fan who has purchased a $50 set, then turned around and sold one of the minifigs inside for $20 or more! Many times, LEGO® will purposefully place a random, exclusive minifig in a set just to boost its collectors’ value. A perfect example of this is the Jedi Starfighter with Hyperdrive Booster Ring. Kit Fisto never flew that ship, yet there he is along with the set. And as expected, he’s quite sought after!

While it certainly makes sense from a business standpoint, from a “I just want some cool minifigs to display” standpoint, it pisses me off to no end. It’s not like the minifigs are rare; LEGO® produces a ton of each set. It’s just a combination of slick marketing and collector retardation that’s driving the value of these things up, and like many other collectors’ items, I can’t stand that shit. Look, I can understand when a highly-detailed statue that they only made five thousand of sells for a high price. But a tiny plastic figurine, of which tens of thousands were likely created, commanding prices over $15? Please.

I’ve been trying to bolster my droid collection lately, and one of the items that tops my list is a black astromech droid that came with the Imperial Star Destroyer. For a few tiny pieces of black plastic…we’re looking at around $12-15. Ridiculous! I suppose I could tide myself over with the key chain…

I bought lunch at Burger King the other day, and noticed that their current Kids’ Meal toy promotion is Neopets. There’s a whole shitload of the little buggers available, but two in particular stood out.

The first is Mynci. It’s supposed to be some type of monkey, obviously, but all I could do was snicker at the name. I’m assuming that “Mynci” is pronounced “minkey,” just like how our hero Inspector Clouseau says it in The Return of the Pink Panther. If you’ve seen that movie, then you know exactly what scene I’m referring to, and thus you’ll understand why the name of this Neopets character makes me laugh. (If by some twist of fate you haven’t seen the film…what the hell are you waiting for?!)

The second one is a penguin-looking animal named…Bruce. What the fuck, all of the other characters get unique-sounding names, and this guy’s stuck with “Bruce”?! No wonder he looks so depressed. What kind of message are they sending to the children? I can only image how shitty kids named Bruce must feel when they see this sullen bastard.

But I’m sure Bruce will one day get his revenge; when the zombie apocalypse comes, he’ll be feeding his fellow Neopets to the ravenous hordes of the undead. Now that’s a BK Kids’ Meal toyline I’d like to see. Neopets vs. the Zombies!