Some people don’t think its cool to love stuffed animals, instead they play with knives and they glue pieces of cheese together, and they listen to bluegrass music. Why can’t people just listen to normal green grass music or tree music… and why can’t people just love their stuffed animals? Nobody knows.
But I live by the rule, if it has a smile or a face, and is also filled with cotton, it is our friend. A few months ago while I was coloring in bed, I accidentally dropped a marker onto my pillow, and as it fell it kind of made a curve shape underneath two dots, creating something that resembled a face right on my pillow! I named him Peesus (rhymes with jesus, and not like how a mexican would say it) for he had been immarkulately conceived. It was meant to be. I knew right away that we were going to be best friends, or at least have a student teacher relationship.
Peesus was my teacher, and i learned a lot from Peesus, he was like that weird English teacher who cries when you insist on including a colon every time you write the word “but:” BECAUSE BUTS HAVE COLONS! But: he’ll still let you do book reports on Goosebump novels, because he’s not “fully convinced” you’re “not retarded.” Yup, Mr. Kittenhead was great, too bad he got attacked by a goldfish.
It is kind of ironic though, when you think about it, a kitten, getting killed by a fish. Who saw that coming? It’s totally backwards. Definitely not Mr. Kittenhead. If Mr. Kittenhead, my English teacher who we were talking about earlier, had seen it coming then it never would have happened. He wouldn’t have played the ring toss game at the fair, and hit that goldfish in the eye, thus making the goldfish want to avenge his eyeball’s honor. The goldfish never would have bitten his way out of the plastic bag, leaped into the air, and hit Mr. Kittenhead in the temple. Temple’s sure are sensitive spots.
I’m pretty sure god gave us temples on our heads so that we’d have a weak spot. If like, humans in general were bosses in a video game, our weak spot would be the temple. Bam, jump on my temple three times at the end of the castle round Mario or Luigi, depending on who’s turn it is, and I’m a goner.
Mario is so conceited. One day, I just want luigi to sit him down and be like “No Mario, Itsa meea. LUIGI, and you’re a little bitch”
I digress, what does digress mean anyways? And why are they called stuffed animals it’s not like they can eat. I sure couldn’t afford to feed that many bears. But if I had too, I would. Because I love stuffed animals. They are our friends. Oh, before I forget, please sign my petition. It’s kind of like PETA but I’m calling it PETSA: People for the Ethical Treatment of Pizza. I love pizza.