Coming back from dinner in Little Tokyo, I saw this from the car I was riding in with boys.
Words escape me and I am left with the realisation that it will take a cleverer soul than I to write the story of the time when Earth was called Plushland and all its most pious denizens strove for nothing more than than to bounce unto Glory.
Or how Glory was in a truck.
A truck behind razor wire.
The teddy bear holocaust has begun.
May those departed plush angels yiff forever in heaven.
"The teddy bear holocaust has begun."
Oh... Believe it or not, I hadn't actually thought about it as suggesting a sort of "Einsatzgruppen gas van" for stuffed animals. Grim stuff. If you're correct, we must find and hide every teddy bear and plush donkey we can until this terrible period is over.
Makes me want to go out and hug every stuffed toy I can find. Hopefully, there is still a Heaven waiting for them where they can nuzzle and "yiff" and all that.
Ever wanting to assume benevolence in all things, I haven't looked up this "yiff" word yet, but I'm figuring it must mean something nice, like hanging out with one's best chums at a church picnic, or maybe playing "X-Box" with a soulmate. I just get the feeling it's something wholesome and that it might involve rainbows, chocolate, or Hello Kitty.
I would love to see what the Hell of Stuffed Animals is. I'm thinking Des Moines or a styrofoam egg carton jammed in the back of a fridge full of Pabst.
Nice curveball, Alex. I'll be the one to ask what were you doing in a car full of boys after leaving Little Tokyo? I hope you are back to being a roadie for that Menudo tribute ensemble.
"I hope you are back to being a roadie for that Menudo tribute ensemble."
You must mean "Small Change." Yeah, I still crew for them; at least right now. I also had a gig with "ABC Kross Talk," that "super tribute band" that does a surprisingly solid homage to the explosion of both youth hip-hop and talk radio in the '90s. Those guys moved to a district that has year-round school though, so they don't perform much now.
"...or a styrofoam egg carton jammed in the back of a fridge full of Pabst."
If I had been drinking milk when I read this, it would surely have emerged from my nose.