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These are not your childhood PEZ dispensers. In this gallery of modified candy toys, Disney leopards emerge as fabulous divas, orange-faced Muppet-ish characters sport Mohawks and safety pins, and the fastest mouse in all of Mexico stands still to demand more Gouda. "Hand transformed" by a French duo named ATYPYK, these impish sugar slots include an E.T. from the caveman era, a Mickey Mouse strapped with a dozen explosive sweets, and a Bob the Builder who just ran a gauntlet of overzealous and heavily lipsticked fans. Everyone loves the construction guy. If you ever joyously filled a PEZ receptacle with pellet after pellet of sugary rectangles, you'll surely enjoy a trip down memory lane in this topsy turvy gallery of PEZ gone wild.

Though few (if any) horses trot through the streets of Portland today, their memory has not galloped off over the hills. Apparently, rings for tethering the gallant beasts still dot the Oregon city, waiting vainly for their four-legged friends to return. Thanks to an artist named Scott Wayne Indiana, they wait no longer. In late 2005, Scott "tied his first pony to a horse ring" in the downtown Pearl District. Scott's steed was miniature and cheap and plastic, but its mane flowed just as freely and its hoofs pranced just as happily as any warm-blooded equivalent. (Or so we like to think.) Anyway, since that day, many Oregonians have joined in the project's mission to utilize the city's tether rings once more. View photos, examine the municipal map, and perhaps tie a few stallions of your own. But whatever you do, please, don't resort to horse thievery. Portland deserves its stable of pretty ponies.

With a book and accompanying web site, photographer and documentarian Kent Rogowski presents a collection of teddy bears who have been cut open, emptied out, pushed inside-out, re-stuffed, and stitched back together. This parade of franken-plushies sports uneven seams, rough edges, and caved-in ear-mounds. Some of the little creatures regained their arms and legs in the re-filling process, others didn't. In many cases, their round, plastic noses took on a much larger presence once exposed to the outside. Comments on the pictures run the gamut from "I think these photographs might mean happiness" (Nicholas, a 3rd grade student) to "What kind of inhuman, paranoid, and selfish human being would do such a cruel thing?" (Matthew Stefanski, 14). We don't know where we fall between Nicholas and Matt. But we suspect we'll be creeping back again to gaze in wonder—or trepidation—at Rogowski's ur-bears and their anti-picnic.