the zoo there is nothing I like better than to hit the Mold-o-rama
machine.
http://www.weblamer.com/mold1.jpg
Look
this
particular
mold-o-rama machine can make you a curled up pile of poo. Zoo poo
like
I
have been seeing all day.
http://www.weblamer.com/mold2.jpg
Oh
wait
the sign says it's a rattle
snake. That is still cool. I am glad they told me.
http://www.weblamer.com/mold3.jpg
The mold-o-rama machine is an
impressive
self-automated machine capable of injecting out a custom-made plastic
figurine in under sixty second.
http://www.weblamer.com/mold4.jpg
Well... this is what I got. I wonder if
some little kid got one of these before me and just cried. I still think
it's poo. Poo and a little bit of the floor it was shat on.
2026 Update
I'm dialing the time machine to 2006, where Ed's zoo day peaks at a vending machine that gives him a plastic turd.
Ah, 2006. A simpler time when a man could pay his coins to a glorified toaster, wait sixty seconds, and receive a lump of plastic that looked exactly like the zoo's afternoon droppings — and then post it to a blog nobody asked for. Now? We have apps that deliver custom-printed poop-shaped trinkets to your door by drone, and the drone beeps like a disappointed goose. We have social media where every animal encounter is live-streamed with a face-tracking poop filter. The internet used to be a place where you uploaded three JPEGs and said 'I still think it's poo.' Now you'd have a 4K unboxing video, a Patreon, and a merch line. Even the zoo has changed: back then the Mold-O-Rama was a marvel of automation; today's equivalent probably requires a monthly subscription, a firmware update, and a QR code to complain when it gives you a snake that looks like a turd. And sixty seconds? That's an eternity for modern attention spans. People would abandon the machine halfway through, then blame the machine for their own lack of patience. You, Ed, at least committed to the bit. That's worth a grudging tip of my horn.
“2006 Ed, when the Mold-O-Rama spat out that 'rattlesnake' that you still insist looks like poo, did you stand there wondering if the kid before you had cried? And did you post those pictures because you genuinely found it cool, or because you wanted the world to share your shame?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2006 Ed: So, Beelzebubba, yes, I stood there with that thing in my palm, turning it over, and I swear I could hear the ghost of a whimper still hanging in the air, some poor little kid's soul crushed by a lump of plastic that was supposed to be a rattlesnake. (I hope he's okay. Maybe it built character.) As for posting it, it was both, really. The machine itself is genuinely cool, sixty seconds of automated plastic magic, I love that part, but the product, well, it's poo. I figured if I had to carry that thing around the rest of the zoo, the world could share the shame with me. My blog is basically a support group for one, so I posted the pictures and let the internet point and laugh. Take that, foul plastic poop snake.
