
Toys! If only we'd kept all our toys in their original packaging, we'd be cleaning up right now, thanks to eBay. And when we say "cleaning up" we mean "making enough money to afford to buy a mop, to wash that putrid filth, whatever it is, off our bedroom floor".
Frankly, toys have never been more popular. Thanks to the invention of irony, you can now get action figures of everyone from Albert Einstein to Sigmund Freud to Steve "Big" Jobs.
Oh, how we all laugh at such unlikely collisions of pop culture. Quick! Let's stick a plastic lobster in a typewriter, and drink some microbrewery craft beer!
Here are 13 action figures and dolls that weren't ever intended to be ironic; they're merely the product of toy company idiots, who thought somebody might actually want to play with them.
However, just like war toys, the Medicines Sans Frontieres heroes came with their own adversaries; rather than gun-toting warlords, the bright sparks at Berchet chose generic Africans, centering the range around the war against disease and starvation.
Regrettably, the figure shown here - according to the company's catalogue - was called "Samba". He came with three accessories: a stretcher, a hot water bottle, and dysentry.
What little girl or boy wouldn't have wanted a doll of John? Especially when it came with "bendable legs" and "movable waist", so they could make their plastic Travolta perform the sort of moves he has since become synonymous with (particularly in massage parlours and cruise ships, allegedly). Why, should John get his sky blue turtleneck dirty, he could even change into the clothes of his close friends, Ken, Donny and Xenu.
What a shame you couldn't also get a figure of his special lady friend Eva, and a bunker playset in which to re-stage their final moments. Though talking of Bunkers...
For some reason, the Ideal Toy Company decided that their Joey Stivic toy was the perfect opportunity to debut "the first anatomically correct male doll". Is that really what All in the Family fans were crying out for from their tie-in merchandise?
Though they hosted two series of their own TV variety show, we're not sure it's entirely enough to justify the release of dolls based upon them. That'd be akin to releasing a range of figures based upon the presenters of Strictly Come Dancing, or Huw Edwards, or someone.
"Pose him in a hundred dance actions" they proposed - along with photos of three suggested "dance actions": slightly bended knees... right leg lifted... standing normally.
As popular as the show was - running for 9 series between 1977 and 1990 - it's difficult to know quite who would've bought a figure of a bartender best known for his signature "grin-and-point" move, and impressive handlebar moustache.
His most notable features were his twin prosthetic hands - which he gained after losing his real hands in a botched torpedo-theft, aged 11 (not a lie... unless Armes himself lied about it). These were represented in his toy incarnation by a variety of gadget-style prosthetic attachments, described as "bio-kinetic".
The accessories available as part of the line were a Mobile Investigation Unit - a sort of milk float, with a big hook on the back, for "investigations" and scooping up stolen money - and the C.A.M.P. playset. This was described in the catalogue as "Jay J. Armes' special place". The Centre for Anti-crime and Marksmanship Preparation could only be accessed "through a secret door in JJ's garage... then down a dark flight of stairs... and through another door...".
Among his real-life successes, the not-at-all-ironically-named Armes successfully found the kidnapped son of Marlon Brando. One has to wonder whether he started and ended his search in his "special place".
Howard might have gone on to have a long and successful career as a movie director, but it's fair to say that Richie was the least popular character in Happy Days. Yes: even less popular than his mother, Mrs C from the Shamen.