The Charmin Bears are on the move!

I guess bears have relatives to visit at the holidays so they’re heading out via the nearest bear airport. So, ORD I guess. (See what I did there?) Apparently the TSA, an equal opportunity employer, is also employing bears as screeners. Now, somewhere along the line, the bears have all become the same color (red and white) and they’ve lost Bill, the oldest kid. Perhaps he’s at boarding school, maybe that’s where they’re all headed.

Dad’s hung up getting wanded, and why THAT’S necessary is anyone’s guess because—hey—no clothes. The TSA bear is giving the butt area a SERIOUS wanding, so we can only presume that there’s a suspicion that Papa Bear is smuggling something where the sun don’t shine. Now the TSA bear has a full uniform, including pants, making the Bear family’s nakedness all the more puzzling. I guess nobody dresses for air travel anymore.

As part of the security scrutiny Papa’s suitcase is opened revealing the ultra-strong, industrial strength shit-tickets. These doggies meet “the highest standards of clean.” Being pragmatic my mind casts about for what those standards might be. Are they ‘clean room’ standards? Given that Charmin has a fair amount of lint in it, I’d say no. Are they ‘operating room’ sterile? Nope. So I suppose the standard is actually: it gets all the shit off of your ass. Which…paper can only do so much folks.

The secret is the DuraClean technology. Are there nanobots involved? No such luck, it’s just an embossed texture. This new version of Charmin cleans your keister really well, and I suppose we should be concerned about the strength of this paper perhaps gumming up the plumbing. Rest assured, Roto-Rooter approves of this new incarnation. There’s even a plunger with the international sign for NO over. There’s also a guarantee, if it clogs, the paper is free. How would one claim this refund? Would you have to send evidence of the clog? Do you have to keep the receipt on the off chance? That’s a lot of science for a product that hasn’t changed much since the dawn of time.

Bear's Talk!

We've been treated to some updated ads for the Charmin bears. First of all Mama and Papa now talk! Wow. Talking bears. I suppose this is to differentiate them from run-of-the-mill, not blue and red bears. Okay. Check.

They haven't reached the level of Country Crock inane conversation, but it's only a matter of time.

Additionally, the bears are now coffee and espresso drinkers. I guess that explains the shit, that stuff really cleans you out.

Mega Rolls

This is getting stupid. MEGA rolls?

I was pretty happy with double-rolls. You know, having a roll on the spindle for longer than a couple of hours. But now there are MEGA rolls. We're not at the point of having those enormous jobbies like they have in public restrooms, but these things have the same paper as four regular rolls.

So when does this stop? Already you have to have a special extender to retrofit your regular roll holder, that alone should tell you you're pushing the envelope of normalcy.

I know from personal experience that certain members of the family just can't wrap their heads around removing an old, empty cardboard tube and putting a fresh roll on. I've seen the new roll perched precariously on top of the cardboard tube, on the back of the tank, with one end dipped into the bowl, or even on the edge of the bath tub. Hey, at least he doesn't leave me high and dry (or damp as the case may be.)

But even though some folks are challened in the changing the roll area, is a MEGA roll really the answer? Where do we draw the line? How big can a toilet roll get before North America rejects it as too unwieldy?

I want Fresh Direct!

You know what I never see? I never see Mrs. Bear at the Kroger.

I go about once a week, clutching my coupons and checking out the dented meat for bargains. I see little old ladies and their nurses, I see moms with their whinging kids and I even see bachelors with stacks of frozen goodies and 24-packs of beer. But I don’t see Mrs. Bear, or any of the bears for that matter, roaming around my local Publix.

So this means that either that they don’t really shop at the supermarket, or they have home delivery of groceries!

Now I live in a reasonably metropolitan area, it’s not New York or Toronto, but we do have a very large airport. I figure that if any place is going to have a market that delivers, we’d have one as well. But NO! No market around here delivers. Pizza and Chinese food, but not groceries.

So how is it that the bears have their groceries brought to them in ultimate convenience and luxury? Why can’t I get that same service?
Where the heck is this damn forest anyway? Is it in Central Park? That would at least explain it.

What else is in their weekly shop? Obviously, the Charmin, but do they get honey, berries, nuts and porridge too? What about Chips Ahoy? Or is Mama Bear one of those matriarchs that monitors the crap level of the younger bears?

I used to want to keep up with the Jones’s, but now I’m really coveting the lifestyle of the bears.

There's a limit

The Charmin bears seems to be focused on parsimony when it comes to using the aforementioned paper. I don't know about you, but I really don't want what I'm wiping coming between what I'm wiping it with and my skin.

Why is Papa Bear so cheap when it comes to handing out the squares? Is he influenced by Sheryl Crow? (The singer, not that nasty grackle hanging out by his trash.)

You'd think as a corporate spokesbear that he'd have an ample supply of bog rolls, but there he is, in the can with the kids, segmenting out the tissue like twenty dollar bills.

I suppose it's a dad thing. He's forever lowering the thermostat, turning off lights and grumbling about waste.

I really don't care what he says though. Nine squares isn't going to do it. I need more than that.

As my mom used to say when I was a kid, "Do you eat the damn stuff?" No. I use it to wipe my ass, and I'd like to do a good job of it. Thankyouverymuch.

We Shall Overcome

I think the lack of diversity in the Bears’ realm is appalling. Look around, all you see are bears. No other critters of any kind. “But wait!” you might exclaim, “there is a duck.” I’m sure that Leonard (Papa Bear) would be happy to inform you that “One of my best friends is a duck.” We’ve been hearing that pandering crap for years. And just how is this friendship manifest? The duck is offering Leonard a better way to clean shit off of his fur! Why not just have the duck stand outside the bear's cave with his wing out, like those lawn jockeys that one sees in old neighborhoods?

Charmin Bears Al Rescante!

So Papa Bear and the Bear Cub are superheroes. Keeping the world safe from toilet paper on your ass! I feel safer already.

Am I the only one who on the lookout for sexism in commercials? Why is it always Choosy Moms and parenthetically Choosy Dads who choose Jif? Why is it Mom who’s queen of the laundry? Why is it the boys who are the toilet paper sentries? It’s not fair!

I’m sure that Mama Bear and that Prissy Amy Bear could be just as good as the boys at spotting the dreaded “paper bits” on the tail ends of people and of bears. But no, they are stuck back at the cave, more concerned with toilet paper softness than they are with toilet paper strength.

Now, trust me, I understand that softness is important. There’s nothing worse than a chapped ass when you’re trying to get through your day, but I can’t remember the last time I used 400 grit sandpaper in the john.

So the girls represent softness and the boys represent strength, albeit in towel capes.