My Plushie Army Will Defend Me in the Impending Zombie Apocalypse

The beady black eyes of Hello Kitty, clothed in the skin of Badtz-Maru like a fwuffy wittle Buffalo Bill (not at all making this up), judge me as I ponder this question:

At what point does collecting stuffed animals (a kid’s pastime) turn into collecting “plushies” (totally acceptable for adults. Kinda.)?

I remember a time around the age of fourteen where I wanted nothing more than to make a funeral pyre in the backyard for every stuffed animal I had in my possession, because stuffed animals are for babies. Although my collection of Care Bears never got burninated, they did get passed down to my sister and younger cousins, leaving me to pursue more adult things like video games and porn.

Hello Kitty’s turn-ons: lotion, Goodbye Horses, creep-staring at your soul as you write

At some point, I’ve let these fluff-filled maniacs back into my life, under the new title “plushie”. Because plushies are collectible. And totally for adults. Or so I’m told.

Let’s face it, plushies are about as collectible as toenails. There’s still a store around here that still has a sign up proudly proclaiming: “We sell Beanie Babies!” Hasn’t that ship already sailed? Beanie Babies aren’t worth anything any more.

Holy. Shit.

Ok, so I could be a tiny bit wrong about the worth of some (super-duper rare Princess Diana) Beanie Babies. But the question still stands: when did my brain have a meltdown to the point of me standing in the middle of my local comic book shop saying, “Oooh it’s a wittle pwushy Hulky-wulky. Look here, it’s a wittle Iron Man…” Ladies, I apologize. I set us back as a comics-reading species.

This is not acceptable behavior for a childless 27-year-old. Even if Iron Man was smushably adorable.

In order to get over my love of plushies, I must set my priorities straight. Because, contrary to the title of this post, my plushies will not defend me in the zombie apocalypse. Do you see Hello Kitty’s eyes? That’s a fucking traitor, right there.

ZOMBIE-FIGHTING WEAPONS VS. PLUSHIES:

LESSON: SELL THE PLUSHIES, SAVE THE WORLD

Yes, this is like a fucked-up version of The Price Is Right. Learn from this. Take my warning and it will save your life. You’re welcome.