Wednesday, March 02, 2005

When Teddy Rules the World 

There was, of course, a huge advertising push last month, to buy your girlfriend or wife a teddy bear for the romantic holiday. I saw print ads, read internet notices, and heard radio spots for these things. And in all the hubbub, women are portrayed as just loooooooving these little, wittle, bitty, baby, teddy, weddy bears.

Who are these women who want a teddy bear for a gift?

What does that say about you, about how far you really haven't come, that you are excited about a fucking stuffed animal for a gift? You women in the ad -- you're like 30. Seriously. What. The. Hell.

The problem is -- I've met women like this. I once met a woman with a teddy bear collection. A fucking teddy bear collection. In her home. She named them. She spoke to them. As if they were people. Conversing. With her.


And it wouldn't be so much of a problem if women didn't rule the culture. But they do! They rule us all! Women outnumber men in the work world and in colleges across the US. They perform better than men in almost every conceivable category of human measure. Men? We've got athletics, the priesthood, and prison population working for us. Nice. Way to go, compatriots.

So, women run the culture, and a segment of women -- grown, intelligent, capable -- want a teddy bear for Valentine's day. So I asked my wife -- partly out of fear, partly curiosity:

"Would you . . . do you . . . uhhhh . . . ya want one of those damn Vermont, uh, you know?"

"A teddy bear? Huh? You're getting me a teddy bear? What the hell for? Take it back. I'm not your child! I don't want a teddy bear. Who do you think I am?"

Sometimes I need that reassurance that I married the right person. Whooo! Close one!

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