Friday, January 15, 2010

Die, Snuggle Bear . . . DIE!!!


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As I may have mentioned earlier, I have a deep hatred for the Snuggle Bear.  You know this pathetic excuse for a corporate mascot, don't you?  DON'T YOU????  Designed by Kermit Love (the same guy who designed "Big Bird" for Sesame Street), this syrupy-sweet, sickening character became the spokesperson (or spokesbear) for Snuggle fabric softener in 1983.  The whiney voice was based on Spridle, a character from the 1967 "Speed Racer" cartoon.

My own personal hatred of ol' Snuggles began back when I was in college.  There was this cheerleader-type gal in several of my Computer Science classes who had no business being in the same curriculum.  She had absolutely no dignity and did not mind everyone seeing that she was attempting to get special grade considerations by flirting with the male teachers and making sure her skirts were hiked up when she sat on the desks of the instructors, playfully bantering with them the entire time.  Well, this pathetic siren always had a miniature Snuggle Bear attached to her purse and said sweet things to it often.  Yes, she actually talked to the damn bear on her purse!  I guess I decided to take out my frustration and hatred on Snuggle Bear because of that, and forever more associated Snuggle Bear with her.

I am not alone, however. There are MANY who are entirely creeped-out by this corporate roadkill.  He probably runs a close 2nd in the creep-out factor behind that Burger King guy (that's a whole 'nother blog).  I'm sure there are 12-step support groups out there also for fellow Snuggle Bear haters. But on the flip side, there also seems to be renewed interest brewing for this wanna-be road kill.  And propaganda glorifying his cuteness is even sprouting on the web now.  The freaking bear even has his own damn website now (www.snuggle.com/home.aspx)!  Satanic?  Duh!!!  Need you ask????  My fears are not irrational in spite of your eye-rolling or laughter.  Few know of the 1978 mauled camper incident, but one can afford to have justice turn a blind eye when you have a corporation fearing for its image.

You can't help but wonder what the actual gender of Snuggle Bear is.  The cartoon equivalent of Michael Jackson, his squeaky, androgynous voice does not help settle the matter either.  Personally, I believe it is male.  Probably due to his beverage of choice being fabric softener, he has guzzled the blue stuff and destroyed his larynx, forever effeminizing his voice.  It also could be that having been exposed to "softener" since 1983, his body has sustained permanent damage and he is no longer able to function as a male, losing both primary and secondary sex characteristics. 

Commercials where the characters jump out of things for shock value are difficult to handle, but not horrifying.  I can handle Mrs. Butterworth talking about all the sweet syrup that lies inside of her and how all of us should spend our days fantasizing about licking her sweetness.  I can handle the Rice Krispies elves jumping out of my cereal in spite of wondering why 3 males are splashing around with glee in my milk.  I can even handle Tony the Tiger's self-absorption about how his shit is Grrrrrrr-eat!!!  What I cannot handle is this little pissant bear popping out of bottles of fabric softeners and telling moms and little children to smell his towels.  I put it to you to decide - don't you think if our children are sniffing glue for maximum highage, it's probably because of that drug-pusher, Snuggle Bear?  I can just hear him now . . .

"Here . . . tee-hee . . . sniff this!"

I am tired of having nightmares where I'm being smothered with a lemony-fresh pair of underwear.  ENOUGH, I say!!! Our children are exposed to enough mindless drivel day-in, day-out!!!  Please join me.  Let's create a Snuggle Bear Awareness week and help rid our planet of this demon disguised as a bear.  Let's set a real trap for him in the lint trap and hope the little bastard has to gnaw off his own gangrenous leg before Grandpa's sweat-stained t-shirts are thrown in the dryer.  Let's train our cats to attack him in the laundry basket and use him as their new chew toy.  Let's bring capital punishment to television and broadcast his demise in an industrial dryer turned on full speed.  Can't you just hear his high-pitched scream?  Now, that's entertainment!

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