bestTrending Topics
Joke Types
0
0
I read somewhere that there are therapists who use stuffed animals in sessions. What kind of therapy is that? "So, how does Mr. Fluffykins make you feel today?" If I wanted therapy from a stuffed animal, I'd just talk to my taxidermy raccoon. And what if your therapist prescribes a stuffed animal to cope with stress? "Doc, I've been feeling really anxious lately." "Ah, here's a panda. Hug it out." I'm sorry, but I need a prescription for something stronger than a plush koala.
Maybe they should have therapy where the stuffed animals talk back. "You're right, Timmy. Your boss is a jerk. Quit your job and join the circus." Now that's a therapy session I'd pay for.
0
0
You ever notice how people have these epic battles over who has the cutest stuffed animal? It's like a soft, cuddly Cold War. "Oh, you think your teddy bear is cute? Well, check out my bunny with the embroidered eyes." It's a plushie arms race. And what about those claw machines? It's like a battlefield for stuffed animals. I've spent more money trying to win a stuffed giraffe than I have on my actual relationships. It's like, "I will conquer the claw machine and emerge victorious with a prize that will sit on my shelf and collect dust."
I swear, if nations could settle their differences with stuffed animal wars instead of actual wars, the world would be a much softer place. Just imagine leaders negotiating over tea and teddy bears. "I'll trade you three pandas for a ceasefire in the Middle East." It could work.
0
0
You ever notice how adults always seem to have this collection of stuffed animals from their childhood? Like, what are we doing with these things? Are we training for a plushie Olympics that I don't know about? I recently had to intervene in my own life. I walked into my friend's apartment, and it looked like a Build-A-Bear exploded in there. I said, "Dude, we need to talk. We're grown-ups now. There's no room for a stuffed zoo in your living room."
And he goes, "But they're sentimental! Each one has a special memory."
I'm like, "Special memory? They're stuffed animals, not a family photo album. I can't tell if that's a bear or a reminder of your awkward teenage years."
I swear, if you have more stuffed animals than friends, it might be time for a plushie intervention.
0
0
You know what would be a terrible horror movie? "Night of the Living Stuffed Animals." Picture this: you wake up in the middle of the night, and your teddy bear is staring at you with those beady little eyes. Suddenly, the room is full of creepy whispers like, "I want a cookie," and "Let's have a tea party." It's like Toy Story on a bad acid trip. And imagine the terror of being chased by a demonic unicorn with a squeaky horn. You're running for your life, and all you hear is "squeak, squeak, squeak." That's not a horror movie; that's a nightmare from the dollar store.
I mean, if I wanted to be scared by fluff, I'd just look at my bank account after a shopping spree.
Post a Comment