Big Plush Giant Rasta Banana Plush Stuffed Toy Five and a Half Feet Tall Banana Toy Fun Pillow Gift

Everything we wanted!

I know this sounds crazy, but it's exactly what we wanted :-)

I don't know what the other poster is going on about. I found a giant yellow banana man identical to this in the trash just outside my local carnival gates. I couldn't be happier. I'd have paid upwards of $2600 for a stuffed figurine this cool.I mean, because, what else would I spend $2600 on? Certainly not something stupid like that carnival I was about to go frequent.

So I'm trying to get the ball in the tub. I did it in practice, right? Put down 5 bucksI miss.Double or nothing. Miss. double or nothing, I miss. The next hour is a blur of balls not staying in a tub and the laughter of a carny and onlookers, Next thing I know I'm $2600 down and that was my life savings. The carny sees me slinking off. He feels sorry for me (we had the same kickass cross tattoo) and runs after me. "Hey, dude! Take this. No hard feelings." He hands me this figure.It's a bigass rasta banana. It's yellow. But after pushing it around the block on my kid's stroller while pondering life's questions like "What is physics?" and "What is stopping?" for a while, I'm tired of it.

I went to a carnival and saw this banana as a top prize in the ring toss game. Now, for those of you who have never carnivaled it up, the ring toss game is widely regarded as a scam. It's darn near impossible to win. However, I saw this sweet banana and I knew I had to win it. I pictured in my head all of the times we would spend together - watching bad cartoons late at night while cuddled in each other's arms, long walks on the beach, sitting by a fire on a cold Autumn night - this banana was going to be my new best friend. Of course we were going to be high as heck while doing all of those things because look at the guy - clearly he blazes a whole lot of reefer. Just this thought made our impending friendship grow.Now that my mind was made and my infatuation with this amazing combination of cotton, felt, and Styrofoam had grown to unheard of proportions, I put my plan in action. I went and I bought a bucket of rings - it was $5 for a bucket that contained about 50 rings. My first toss was over-emotional. My dreams interfered with my natural athletic ability and the ring hit the top of a bottle to the side of the setup. It bounced off the bottle and hit a little child square in the eye. After dealing with a barrage of curses and insults from the obviously pregnant mother and leaving both her and the child in tears with my verbal prowess, I continued towards my goal. My second ring hit the target, but unfortunately bounced off the gold capped bottle and landed in the pit of ring-despair. I continued to try and fulfill my new life dream ring after ring only growing more and more frustrated with each shot. They kept on bouncing off and going in all different directions. It appeared the rumors of this being an unbeatable game were true. I finished my first bucket in disgust; my dreams were shattered.Dejectedly, I turned around, trying to hide my tears of sadness as I saw my one dream in life slip away. I was not a ring-toss master. Me and the Jamaican banana could never be together. In order to lighten up my mood, I snuck behind the bathroom and smoked a joint. After getting nice and relaxed, I went for a walk to the nearest food vendor. I stuffed my face with at least 20 deep fried to mask my sorrow. I could only think of how much the banana-man would have loved to enjoy these delicious, deep-fried treats with me. That's when inspiration struck again. I was high out of my mind, I knew that the banana would want to accompany me in this precious moment.Struck with the realization of true love, I went back to the ring toss. I pulled two crisp five dollar bills out of my wallet and plunked them down. Two buckets worth would give me chance at achieving what was meant to be. I started out of the gates strong - firing ring after ring, not letting my failure impact my future game. Finally, after thirty or so rings, it struck. My ring landed on a bottle. I stared at it, my mouth agape. It's beauty was unrivaled (with the exception of my Jamaican banana friend). The deep, lusty red of the ring resting against the robust green of the bottle. The ring's curves wrapped deliciously around the tight neck of the bottle. They were consummating their love as I was getting closer to finally getting to experience mine.The attendant approached me with a small, stuffed puppy. He held it out to me and said in the most unenthusiastic way "congratulations, here's your dog." I realized my folly. I had known earlier that in order to get the banana, I would have had to land the ring on the gold bottle. I quickly snatched the toy puppy from the attendant, turned around, and punted it into the nearby rotating swings. As I turned back to my game I heard shouts of horror, metal grinding, and what sounded like a ride collapsing, but it did not matter. I had one mission. Faced with a multitude of bottles and only around 70 rings, I set forward in my goal.I got aggressive at this point. I started chucking the rings with full strength. I was tired, annoyed, lustful, angry, and high as ever all at the same time. These rings and a gold bottle would mate in my near future. I needed to achieve my goal. I almost felt bad - the strength of which I was tossing the rings was causing cracks on the bottles. I say almost, as I knew what kind of stakes were on the line.I came down to my last five rings. Tears were welling in my eyes and the sights in front of me were that of sheer horror - shattered glass, children and mothers crying, broken rings strewn around the game's protective wooden box. I picked up a ring, gave it a sensual kiss, and let it fly. I watched as the light of the afternoon sun bounced off the rotating ring, blinding all of those that were foolish enough to stand in the way of love. The ring bounced off of a green bottle, slowly flipped eight times, and came to a rest. It was resting on the golden bottle. I had won. My life and love were complete. Me and the Jamaican banana could finally be together.Ecstatic, I collected my prize and ran out of the carnival, holding him above my head. We made it to my car and I buckled him safely into my passenger seat. I rolled up the windows and lit a celebration "cigar." Me and the banana man got higher than I had ever been in my life - this guy can smoke!That was three years ago to the day. I still travel everywhere with my Jamaican banana. He's the best lover, friend, smoking buddy that I've ever had. He's everything all rolled into one.I strongly suggest you purchase this Jamaican Rastafarian banana. He will complete your life.

$2,600 with skills.$149.99 without.It's all about pride of ownership.Cut some corners. Get yours now.Who's gonna know?