Teddy returns briefly to get him out of my drafts. I forgot about him.
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It’s been a while, I realise. Because of reasons, obviously. And those reasons mostly revolve around the whole lot of them not having left the house for the last fucking year and a half nearly. I mean, Christ-on-a-bike, I couldn’t get one bloody minute free to myself to let you know how I was doing..
You’ve all been well I hope?
Who am I kidding, to be honest I don’t really care. I am currently so wrapped up in my own self pity that giving a monkey’s rancid fart about anyone or anything else seems beyond me.
Please don’t judge me too harshly though, a bear can only take so much you know. I know we have all been through a lot, and for many it has been a heart-breaking time filled fear, uncertainty and the horrors of a pandemic but fuck me, the obsession with zoom quizzes, bread baking and artisan cheeses is just not acceptable. And don’t get me started on the home schooling…seriously, I find it hard to believe that the lot of them get through the day without falling into heavy machinery or accidentally drinking bleach.
Oh and get this, you’ll love this, they started having family game nights. Excuse my big sweaty bear balls but that was hardly going to work out was it. They can hardly stand each other at the best of times. Throw in monopoly and a bottle of riocha and she ended up locked in the downstairs bathroom insisting her mother was right about him and the kids were crying because daddy used naughty words about granny.
For what it’s worth though, he is right about her mother. But Jesus, in what world do you actually admit that she has a face like a melted candle and always smells like she’s just enjoyed a hearty lunch of pickled herring. Honesty never got anyone anywhere…
It’s all just a bit much and I really need them to fuck off back to work/school/wherever she used to go without her nickers on after he goes to the gym.
Did I mention the artisan cheeses? Oh don’t get me started on that.
The one with the teletubbies.
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Well the Christmas season came and went here in somewhat of a blur, I am sure I speak for all of the other toys when I say thank fuck for that. As I am sure you can imagine the holidays brings a real nervousness to the toy box as you never quite know whether youre going to be usurped by this years newest fad.
A couple of the old timer hand me downs still speak with a real fear of the Christmas of 1997. There was a real blood bath once all the new toys were in the box and when the dust settled mid January all that was left were those Teletubby bitches, a few toy cars and a couple of books. You couldnt move for a bloody lala or a po wherever you went it was hell I tell you. Oh and trust me that Tinky Winky…nasty piece of work. He came across all sweetness and light but he was a real twisted bastard and had a thing for Barbie’s smooth bits. #MetooBarbieSmoothBits.
Another plus was the great time the children had as Mr dressed up as Santa for them though Mrs seemed pretty keen on the whole thing too and couldnt do enough to help. I even heard her asking him to empty his sack for her one night though from all of the noise they were making I am surprised they didn’t wake the kids up.
Happy New year from the toy box.
The one where Mr H gets his anus wrecked.
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There are good days in this job and there are bad days. Today was a good day.
I was fresh from rather pleasant evening in the toy box with School Teacher Barbie when I was rudely dragged from her quite instructional embrace and tossed unceremoniously into a backpack. I recognised the insides from such previous trips as ‘just an evening at uncle Ralph’s and a ‘Long weekend at Aunty Carole’s’, both of which still cause me sleepless nights, so obviously I was immediately concerned about what lay ahead.
I can still remember how Ralph’s chihuahua Tyson spent much of the night rubbing himself against me and asking me to fetch his bone and that is not something a bear gets over easily. Chihuahua’s are notoriously filthy little blighters and I will admit that now just the sight of her putting on lipstick in the morning before she heads to work is enough to induce a mild panic attack.
A friend of mine was once forced to endure an extended weekend with a pair of them and a particularly horny dachshund and he hasn’t spoken since, the poor bastard. God forbid anyone should eat hot dogs around him he completely loses his stuffing…
Anyway, turns out I was due for an afternoon of fun over at the Hendersons. It was your standard playdate as these things go really. There was a rather glorious tea party and an assortment of cakes and I got to make a few new friends. Chad is a rather burly Steiff with the most fantastic German accent and whilst his right wing leanings may be a little out there he was pretty cool. I am hoping to see him again soon because I think we could be good friends.
Oh and I even got to listen to some gossip when I was left in the kitchen for a while. Turns out Mr Henderson is into ‘bears’ too though from what Mrs H was saying I wouldn’t want to be friends with them given what they did to his anus.
Still she got the house and the kids in the divorce so happy days all round…
The one where he gets fisted by Ken.
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Oh. My. God. Today was so damned hot.
That kid from next door came over for a play date and he was so much fun. Have I not mentioned him before? Oh he is one of my favourites. He’s the sort they think just needs to take his medication and to play with other normal kids to help him with his behavioural issues.
Trust me when I tell you he there is no helping him and one day he will appear on your television screens and you will be warned that he could be hiding in your out house, trouserless, and there will probably be an octogenarian on there shaking whilst she describes what he did to her cat when he was meant to be cleaning her gutters.
No, no, before you jump to conclusions I am not hot for him nor what he will likely do to animals one day but damn, that freaky little miscreant knows how to make us toys play doctor and nurse.
As soon as he was alone he made Barbie give up what I’ve been itching to taste ever since she got that new two piece and I was barely done buffing her smooth parts and he had the Lego Princess Leia give me an internal examination the likes of which a bear like me only dreams about.
I can see why Jabba liked to keep her on a short leash if you know what I mean.
I will even admit that by the he had Ken out of his boxers I was game for anything and as lacking as he might be south of the border anatomically he more than made up for it with those tightly balled fists of his.
God I cannot wait until they have him round again…
The one with the scratching
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Just remember, when you think nobody is watching and you do those things you ought to be ashamed of me and my kind are around and we do not have the luxury of forgetting.
In fact, we have surprisingly long memories.
I know a Steiff bear called Gerald who I met at the park a while back who is to this day still traumatised by what he saw someone do with a lukewarm cheese fondu and a packet of cocktail sausages back in the seventies. He says things were different back then and were willing to try all sorts but the dead look in his eyes tells me that he has seen too much.
So next time you stand in front of the fridge in the middle of the night scratching yourself and then eating cold mashed potatoes with your hands think again. I would claw your face off if I could but alas I have to suffer watching you handle raw poultry in an unhygienic fashion and then wonder why the toilets are always blocked and the kids aren’t at school because they gambled on a fart.
Seriously, just think okay – we all have to live in the same house and it wouldn’t hurt you to think of others now and then.
The one where she gets him to dance for her…
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I like to think that I am a fairly optimistic sort, given my situation. Yes, I will admit to occasionally succumbing to dark thoughts but given mu situation I would hope that you might appreciate the effect such things can have on you.
Take today for example. Everything was going pretty well and I had been left in the kitchen and forgetting to turn off the radio I was able to listen to the cricket. India had England under pressure but I remained hopeful given the time left in the day. She is working upstairs in the office and all is good in the world.
Until he arrived. You know the one, the plum smuggler. He popped over on the basis of something I care not one jot to recall and actually had the audacity to manhandle me. Apparently I am a rather cute bear. I swear to god his breath smelled very much like a dildo.
And before you ask I have it on very good authority after that time I was left upstairs and he had been away with work and she had taken to drinking and watching ‘Magic Mike’. For a while after she tried to get him to dance for her but he tripped and fell on his erection one night after she tried to get him to shake it a little too rigorously and he ended up in accident and emergency.
Turns out you can’t break your dick despite his assertions to the contrary.
Anyway, they ruined a perfectly good afternoons cricket. Bastards the lot of them.
Something a little different. There may be more they may not.
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Did you have a good day? Perhaps you spent it with loved ones working on those important relationships in your life. Maybe you were fortunate enough to find yourself doing something exciting or uplifting or perchance you just put your feet up with a good book and a nice cup of tea.
Sounds lovely right, the wonderous ways one can spend ones time. I suppose that’s what the ability to choose provides isn’t it – options and variety – two things that I lack as much as I do eye lids.
Do you know what I did today? I doubt you will guess, but I will tell you anyway. Today I did bloody well nothing. I was left face down on the sofa with my arse in the air when they headed off and there I lay for the entire day. Have you any idea what that is like? I doubt it very much indeed. There is a madness that descends and makes you consider the most terrible things when faced with such an ordeal.
Despite being righted and enjoying a few cuddles before bed I remain consumed with the desire to witness a violent home invasion or even a drive by shooting. I don’t imagine drive byes are common in this neighbourhood but it would be jolly nice were a gang – perhaps Mexican – to suffer a sat-nav malfunction and open fire on the wrong address. I can just see them now arguing over directions in their crisp white vests and distinctive bandanas. How wonderful.
That assumes they use sat-nav. A bear can live in hope I guess.
Something a little different. There may be more they may not.
There are things you see that cannot be unseen, and when you are alone in the dark they play over in your head time and time again. Even when tucked up in bed I can still see what he did with the play-doh when she was away for the weekend at her mothers.
A few weeks later I had to endure a tea party with a friendly enough chap made out of blue and yellow, and no matter how hard I tried I could not look him in the eyes. In some ways it was pretty impressive and I had no idea something of that size would hold it’s shape without some sort of reinforcement.
It is not just what I see that fluffs my stuffing though, an inability to act is an equally frustrating thing indeed. Just yesterday the fellow from next door – the one with the paedophile hair-cut and revealingly tight jeans – popped over to see her when he was at work. Apparently he had an abundance of plums which he was concerned would go a little soft if left uneaten.
I think he has his eye on her if you ask me, though she didn’t seem interested despite his quite obviously ripe fruit.
Apparently she is going to make some jam.
Something a little different. There may be more they may not.
I do not want to do this anymore and am wondering very much if there is a way out.
Whilst I realise it is my lot in life, and with my doleful eyes and thick creamy fur I am perfect for the job, my god you have no idea what it’s like. If I am lucky then I may get to enjoy a tea party or a picnic with some of the others but for the most part I simply have to sit and watch.
Now Ive seen Toy Story, and I would assure you that despite what you may think there are no playful shenanigans when you leave the room. I do not get to spoon with Barbie whilst cowboys and astronauts reach for the stars. Nor are there adventures to be had beyond the toy box. All we do is watch.
Now Some of you may be people watchers, and if so then good for you, but just imagine what it is like watching the same people day in day out. This isn’t some whimsical existence where I can wistfully imagine the life they have from a distance. No, this is a living hell where I have to witness every awful thing that goes on behind closed doors.
I often wonder which bastard created me because I can’t even close my frigging eyes.
Just yesterday I’d been left on the kitchen side and I had to watch him eating leftovers, straight from the fridge, naked in the middle of the night. He has an abundance of body hair which in itself is bad enough but what made it extra special was the way he still managed to scratch himself with a chicken drumstick in each hand. No wonder he spends so much time on the bloody toilet, anus chicken will do that to you every time.
If only I knew how to end it.