Weeblehavior
As a kid, I didn’t like Weebles. I understand the fascination with a wobbly toy when you’re a child. Aside from that, what’s the point? If you have a Weeble collection and a bunch of Weeble accessories, you still have to schlep the fucking thing down the slide, or it wobbles off. This is a toy that requires so much work; it’s laborious at best. Really, Weebles are a lil’ creepy.
To me, this looks like an angry mob of Weebles that are eagerly waiting for me to fall asleep, so they can kill me. Because they have no appendages, I imagine, they’ll wobble their way to my mouth and stuff themselves down my throat. Choked to death by Weebles. Sweet.
Yes, circuses make me uncomfortable. This luxury item would allow me to stick my Weeble on a trapeze. It won’t wobble independent of me moving it. Other painted Weebles watch. Is that blonde dame smoking? There’s no clapping sounds or roaring from the audience, it’s just me and my Weeble. What am I missing?
There was a Mouschwitz for Weebles?
Wedding cake topper Weebles. Can you imagine this wedding? God forbid there’s a flower, a personality or a song. These Weebles are as miserable as the unhappy couple.
I love “As Seen on TV” shit. With this, I get a family of four Weebles and a house that I can schlep with me wherever I go. Let’s hope I was smart enough to grab it in foreclosure. Does Weeble Protective Services just hand out families to anyone? What if my intention was to have a Weeble cutting contest?
Why is this Weeble in bed? He’s sitting upright and staring at himself in a full length mirror. He’s alone and has no appendages to touch himself where his bathing suit covers. What is the plan?!