#Skat skoota plus#
The Wood Burning Kit had the added benefit of giving off some more occasionally toxic fumes, a plus if the headrush from earlier fun had worn off. The fun lasted until we ran out of things to ignite, or burned the hell out of one of our fingers. Designed for the youthful artiste to trace lovely designs in the smooth face of a virgin wood canvas, we found it much more fascinating and gratifying to see which of our sister’s toys was combustible. Instead they called this fun-filled item a Wood Burning Kit. I guess ‘Red Hot Iron Poker’ wasn’t very marketable. If you weren’t holding a steel rod at 373 Kelvin, you weren’t having fun. Once you’d worked up a healthy buzz from sniffing and snorting some of the good stuff above, it was time to get down to real business.
I find the smell of burning flesh intoxicating: Johnny? Johnny? What’s that horrible smell?’ ‘Hey Mommmmm! We’re mixing up an experiment! (ie…mixing every damn powder and solution in the set together)’.
#Skat skoota full#
And there was always the classic standby, the Chemistry Set, always full of poison potential. If the fumes from the blob of plastic goo you’d place carefully on the short straw didn’t fry some essential brain cells, the psychedelic colors of the finished bubbles were sure to blow your mind. If smoking wasn’t your thing, it was time for some Superelastic Bubble Plastic. When you bored of the toxic bubble fun, you could relax with a couple of puffs from your Fake Cigarettes and blow (or inhale) some artificial chemical smoke. Whether squirting the solution into a friend’s eyes or mouth, or your own, chemicals meant good clean fun. The Bubble Jet, a fancy water gun you shoved bubble-producing cyanide tablets into, was great recreation.
In the 20 years spanning 1960-1979, nothing said FUN like toxic chemicals and vapors. Toy’s of my childhood – how do I love thee? The children’s playthings of my youth would never make the cut nowadays – but how dear they were to my heart way back when. Mattel? Kenner? Hasbro? Whamo? Endless fun with just a hint of mutilation thrown in for good measure. It’s a miracle I lived through the 60’s and 70’s.Īs if Richard Nixon, Vietnam, mutually assured destruction, and really really bad fashion weren’t risky enough, I faced the daily threat of mass-marketed toys that could maim, wound, and disfigure.
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