Jason's Stuff - I Am A Stuffed Animal
I Am A Stuffed Animal is a company that makes plush toy versions of real people. You send them a photograph of the person you want immortalised forever in cotton and fluff, and for a measly $69 they send you a little, chubby stuffed version of that person. Being a narcissistic piece of shit, I sent them a picture of myself. A couple of weeks later this stumpy bastard showed up in the mail and, oddly enough, I hate him. He’s smug, he never takes off his sunglasses and he thinks wearing an old Nick Cave t-shirt makes him cool.
To be honest, I didn't get a stuffed version of myself made because I’m vain and egocentric (which I am), but because I was curious to see myself as others do – in 3D. I once met a dude who told me he had a plaster cast of himself made for one of Yoko Ono’s art projects. I assumed he was trying to impress me, but he seemed genuinely awed at having seen a replica of his own body. “It was a real eye opener,” He said. “I was blown away by how big I am! I’d always thought I was quite small.” I was jealous of this experience, so when I discovered www.iamastuffedanimal.com I jumped at the opportunity to be replicated myself.
Now that I own a little, fat doucheplicate of myself, I find that I want him incinerated just like every other evil toy in history. My girlfriend tells me to leave him alone, she wants him for when I go away on trips, which is kinda cute, I guess, but also a little bit creepy. I wouldn’t want a little version of her staring at me from the couch while I do the dishes. That’d be horrible. What if it started talking to me? What if it tried to kill me in my sleep?
The best possible reason I can think of for having a cushion version of someone is Voodoo. In retrospect, I wish I’d requested a little stuffed Johnny Depp. How I’d love to stab Johnny Depp in his groin with a knitting needle. I can see it now: Johnny Depp on the set of Pirates of the Caribbean IIV, jangling along as Captain Jack, when suddenly he lurches forward, grabs his crotch, and drops to his knees. Everyone on set is rapt because they’re sure they’re witnessing the kind of celluloid magic that only Johnny Depp can deliver. But, in reality, he’s having his balls gouged by an embittered little man who wishes he had an island, too.
Besides the height difference, The I Am A Stuffed Animal version of me is actually spot-on. They even got the George Michael stubble down pat.
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