I don't know about you but I'm fed up with teddy bears. They're cute, they're cuddly and they remind us of our sweet carefree years as a kid, but they've got one huge downside that outweighs all their positive aspects in my eyes. The teddy bears are commonplace.
In fact, they are so commonplace that their ubiquity could challenge that of the fungi spores: in my whole lifetime, I have never been in a household where there were no teddy bears at all. If you enter an average North American family's house, you can be sure there's at least one plush Ursida, smiling at you from the mantlepiece or the kid's bed. To tell you the truth, I'm no exception: my teddy bear called Joseph reigns over my study from his windowsill, which has been his usual habitat for more than eight years by now.
But I don't want to swallow the unchallenged ursine hegemony anymore. Not if you can buy toys like this. Just imagine how you come up to your girlfriend and tell her: 'Ya know, I couldn't think of a better birthday present for you than gonorrhea!'
The chances that you'll have no girlfriend afterwards are rather high, of course. But this would be a great litmus test for her sense of humor.
O ye bears, tremble, for my plush bacteria army is coming!