Thursday, 16 May 2013
Yeah that's right. It's Ted's turn now, and I may not look too happy here but there's a reason for that. Fifty damn years squashed up against Larry the Lamb in an old shoebox in an attic... that's the reason for that. Anyway, thank goodness that the miserable murdering owl has gone now, and so, at the request of Lovely Ashley with the Syncopated Eyeball, who suggested I should be seen on this cushion of moss, I have been retrieved from my enforced retirement to lighten things up around here for a while. And thanks for that kind request Ashley, it has been no easy ride through the years of uncaring abandonment, I assure you. But please tell Andrew (What's with this "Don QuiScottie" nonsense by the way? He always was an idiot) ... anyway, please tell Andrew that I do not need milk poured into my squashy mouth nor crumbly scratchy digestive biscuits poked at it either. I never did! I always hated how he did that every damn day. I am a fucking Teddy Bear for goodness sake! What could he never understand about that? No food or drink required you imbecile! Oh... sorry, I've been waiting years to get that out, ever since Andrew abandoned me and started sleeping with Jynxy the real pussy cat instead. The bastard. And now I hear that he has been sleeping with a woman good heavens! Not a fake furry one but a real woman with warm blood and soft smooth womanish bits! I never thought the pathetic fool had it in him to get a real woman. I always thought it would just be Teddy Bears and cuddly soft toys for life for him. And he got her pregnant too, I hear. Twice! How? ... Ah, she must have showed him what to do, I suppose... The useless b...
Anyway... To Hell with all that "Harsh Reality" nonsense that the murdering owl and demented Don come out with... It will just be cuddly fluffy pretendy nice world stuff so long as I'm in charge here. And although I do not need milk and biscuits I would welcome some wild woman blowing a bit of cannabis smoke over me, actually. Nothing like a stoned Teddy Bear to bring a bit of sense and equilibrium back into your world.
And look at this... He seems to think a trip to the woods and a matey arm around my shoulders will be enough for us to be all chummy again, after fifty damn years!
The heartless bastard. It will take more than that to repair the hurt, mate.
Posted by Andrew MacLaren-Scott at 19:38