by Bowsy the Bear
The one thing I miss about that week when there was a dog temporarily residing in this house, is the many minutes I whiled away talking to it.
You know – things like “Hello dog. You’re a dog, you are. That’s right. A dog. Aren’t you?” It’s always nice to be so certain about a fact, to the point that you are virtually infallible. That’s why you humans, despite all of your sophisticated modern knowledge and technologies, still resort to comfortable old phrases like “Let’s call a spade a spade”. Y
You take great comfort in the fact that no matter what, there is always a garden implement tucked away in your garden shed with which you can relax and converse in the comfort of one hundred percent certainty as to it’s true identity.
How often does that happen in your day to day life? Can you be sure that the person who stands behind the supermarket checkout and takes your money is a genuine employee of the store, and not a confidence trickster who’s spotted an empty checkout and is chancing his arm?
Can you really be confident that those people in your house – allegedly your spouse and children – are the people they claim to be? Don’t forget, just because you’re paranoid, that doesn’t mean they’re not all out to get you.
On the other hand, why would they be out to get you, of all people? It’s not as if you’re a precious commodity. There’s six god dam billion of you now, and humans are three a penny. Frankly if I had the whole of Earth’s human populatoion to choose from, I’d avoid the two dozen who were mentally deficient to the point of paranoia and instead cherry pick the best.
Not that a cherry is much of an analogy for a top quality human. The only humans who are red are the ones who choose to sit under a tanning bed for longer than the recommended time. You don’t want those.
That reminds me. Why does the tanning bed never get burnt?
Not that I require a reply, you understand. I merely ask the question in order to showcase my unique observational talents. Or rather, not quite unique, sense several thousand other bears are equally equipped.
I’m sure you wouldn’t quite see it that way if it was you though. Being a human, your survival instincts cause you to believe that you are so unique and important to the world that it must have you. In my case of course, it’s true. In yours however, it is not. Don’t take it personally, it’s just that you’re an ordinary, two legged snotty human being, one of six billion of same, and I’m a talking teddy bear. There’s just no competition.
And to think, you people have spent the last ten years trying to figure out whether it’s okay to clone yourselves.
Even better, many of you thought it was disgusting when they cloned Dolly the sheep. Oh my god – if that sort of thing is allowed to go on, we’ll have a load of sheep who all look exactly the same. Wherever will it end? We must stop these crackpots who want to create identical sheep.
Meanwhile, toy factories are gurgitating copies of me every day, faster than they can churn out five Euro picture postcards of Benedict VIV to flog in the Vatican car park.
And in conclusion, did I mention that you’re an idiot?