Computron tastes like chicken OR: I will still be accepting your PayPals in hell

I think I get the sentimental value jean from my mom. One time when I was nine or ten we fell on some pretty rough times and to put food on the table my mom had to spend the money my grandfather had in this pockets the day he died. This spare change was of great sentimental value to her and it really pained her to have to spend it to get bread. While my mom was feeling all torn up and crying about spending the last few dollars my dead grandfather had on him, I was just happy to be eating food and doing other alive stuff like alive people do to stay alive. I'm glad he didn't have birth control in his pockets because you can't buy bread with condoms and they would've tasted pretty bad if we had to eat them, NOT THAT I WOULD KNOW HOW THEY TASTE ANYWAYS.

My mom's strong emotional attachment to things extends to my toy robot wheeling and dealing. If I sell one toy robot to get another toy robot, I always remember the first robot when I look at the second robot. My Japanese Metroplex reminds me of the South Korean Bruticus I sold to raise money for it and so on and so forth. This concept even extends to the paper money I've gotten immediately after a sale. I'll look at the dollars and in a way they'll remind me of all the good times I had with the robot I sold. Once when I was a teenager I sold some toy robots at a comic book show and I put the money in my wallet, instead of my metal money box that I used to seperate robot money from normal money. So later on I went to McDonald's with a friend and I accidentally used some of the robot money to pay. I only realized this once I had the food in my mouth and then I spit it out and my friend asked, "What the heck happened?" and I was, "Oh my GOD THIS MCNUGGETS ARE TASTE LIKE TECHNOBOTS!"

SO when I look at things I am reminded of memories of other times and that is sometimes a downer. I had a friend who died when we were in our teens and his family offered to give me an assload of his GI Joes after the funeral. I'm talking great figures from '82-'84 like the mailaway Cobra Commander and other primo stuff. I told them no because I knew then that everytime I looked at the Baroness's little plastic ass I would remember my friend and it would kill some of the big rubbery in my pants. I've tried not to buy from friends ever since because even if it's totally business I don't want to look at some Insecticons on my shelf and be reminded of how Jimmy got strangled by a hooker or whatever.

I've been sorting through my toy robot collection for another round of selling things and I've been thinking a lot lately about what stuff I'll be leaving behind for my son when I die and whether or not he'll even want it. A large collection of anything is more of a burden on future generations than a blessing because people tend to collect totally stupid stuff. I asked my wife what she would do if one of her great grandparents left her a vast collection of Garfield erasers or whatever and she said she'd divide it up amongst her nieces and nephews and sell off some of it, maybe keeping an Odie for herself. That's when I realized that nobody will care about my toy robots as much as I did. I also realized that unless you collect bars of gold, the second you flatline on the heart machine at the hospital your descendants are probably going to put up mad ebay auctions of your crap.

These thoughts came to a point when I was looking at the death map at MyDeathSpace.com. It plots a little skull for each dead person with a MySpace account, along with a little rollover so you can read the way they died and when and all that. I thought to myself, man, that's a lot of change left behind in all those pockets. (Except for the way Patrick Boyles died. His pocket change probably got spread out over three states when his car went airborne and crashed into the gas station awning 20 feet up.) I think I'll do my grandpa one better and I'll make sure to always have a $100 gift certificate to Joe's Crab Shack in my pants. That way my grandkids will be all GRANDPA WAS THE GREATEST GUY WHO EVER LIVED.



All the dead myspacers probably left all sorts of crap behind and there's probably a lot of families looking to get rid of their things but their friends don't want it. Fuck that. When I die I want it stipulated in my will that there be an auction of all my robots right next to my casket and you have to bid on something if you go to the funeral. So the ushers will be saying, "Sir, it is your turn to view the body. Now how much would you like to bid for this Transformers Generation 2 Slingshot mint on the card? I know Steve meant a lot to you but Transformers Generation 2 Slingshots are really hard to find not all broken." AND I'M NOT GETTING BURIED UNTIL EVERY LAST ROBOT MEETS THE RESERVE!