I’ve been watching TV for roughly a million years, and have seen thousands of commercials about rectum ribbon. But I can’t really recall being disgusted by any of them, until recently. In the old days it seemed to be more about brand recognition, and less about… functionality. Everybody knows what toilet paper is used for, and it’s not pretty. For decades we had a gentleman’s agreement that we’d just gloss over the unsavory details in TV ads, but all that’s apparently out the window now. Good god! Below are three examples of recent TP commercials, some comments, and a classic from a more civilized era.
Does a bear shit in the woods? Of course it does. And that’s clearly why the makers of Charmin chose it to be the modern face of ass-wiping. In a jaw-dropping series of commercials, a family of shitting bears (sometimes blue, sometimes red — who the hell knows?) cavort, wipe, and charm us with their whimsy.
In the episode above, the youngest bear has apparently just left an Easter ham in the yard somewhere, and is concerned about balls of paper and feces sticking to his ass fur. He’s so worried, in fact, he’s using a hand mirror to check things out — and contorting himself, so as to inspect his butthole from every conceivable angle.
Perhaps my parents didn’t do a good job with me, but I don’t understand how that bear got toilet paper all over his ass. My wiping efforts are a much more focused affair. Imagine, if the butt was a map of the United States, and the Mississippi River was the crack: Oregon and South Carolina don’t get much attention. Am I doing it wrong?
Oh, and by the way… thanks Charmin, for delivering an implied bear anus to my family room every evening. It’s much appreciated.
This one is also confusing. The matriarch of shitting’s first family is shown holding up a pair of underwear from the laundry basket, and doing a double-take at something she sees on the back of it. While this is happening a voice over says, “You can always measure the growth of your children, by the way they clean themselves in the bathroom.”
What? Are they saying skidmarks are like the rings of a tree? You can determine a person’s age from them?
Detective Briscoe: We don’t have much to go on here, but we do know the victim was born in the fall of 1989.
Detective Green: How do we know that? We don’t have a body, or even a missing person’s report.
Detective Briscoe: Check out the hashmark in those Hanes by the radiator.
I had no idea forensics had advanced so far. Impressive. And just think… During the days of the Brady Bunch, which wasn’t so long ago, they couldn’t even show a toilet in that weird Jack ‘n’ Jill bathroom; when I was a kid I wondered if Greg and Marcia, and the rest of ’em, just passed around a Folger’s can or something. And now we’re talking about shit stains in underwear, during TV commercials from major corporations? Progress!
“We all go. Why not enjoy the go?” Somebody seriously thought that was a good slogan? What are we supposed to do, sit on the toilet with our hands above our heads, like we’re riding a roller coaster? Whooooo!!
Mr. Whipple is probably somewhere right now, with a single tear running down his cheek.
Finally: someone willing to take a stand! Enough of all this antiquated modesty and self-respect, let’s talk at length about ass-wiping! These women are the Norma Raes of defecation.
Notice how they take a shot at “the cutesy stuff?” They’re talking about our friends, the shitting bears. And while it’s true the bears sometimes make me frown and shake my head, at least they’re cartoons. I’m forced to look these real-life women in the eye, and imagine them tilted to one side on the poop hoop, while troweling away the crack spacklin’. I’ll go with the animated family of crapping animals, on any day of the week.
And I don’t really understand the emphasis on “cleanliness.” The brand doesn’t matter much, does it? You just keep going until there’s nothing left on the paper. It’s not like we’re only allowed six squares per session. This is America, we can use all we want — our forefathers died in wars to make it so.
I like how this TP is extra-strong, to guard against “break throughs.” And if you’re unhappy with its performance, you’ll get your money back. I’m picturing an angry person storming up to the customer service counter at Target, and screaming, “Look at these fingers! I wan’t my $1.89 refund!!”
This is one of the most cringe-worthy commercials of all-time.
Now, this is the way it’s done. They have a memorable, non-disgusting slogan that includes the brand name. And their focus is on something valid: softness. During my life I’ve spent some time in Red Roof Inns and those kinds of places, and it was like wiping my ass with a sheet of notebook paper. Which is why I usually switched to a towel or pillowcase by the second morning… Softness is something I can get behind. Or in front of, to be more precise.
In a Whipple commercial there was no talk of accidentally busting through to Poop City, implications of Rorschach Test underwear, or gangs of high-horse women keeping it real about shit-removal.
I miss the man, his iconic mustache, and gentle approach to butt paper. I’m sorry, I’m getting a little emotional here…
Have a great weekend, my friends! I’ll see you again on Monday.
Now playing in the bunker
Do your holiday shopping at Amazon: US and Canada
Been a while . . .
Since first!
This has got to be in the top five funniest ever from the WVSR!!
Sweet sainted mother of George Schlatter!!
Yes. Just finally read this. I laughed so hard, I think my pants will never dry.
“What are we supposed to do, sit on the toilet with our hands above our heads, like we’re riding a roller coaster? Whooooo!!”
Do you mean that some people don’t?
“This is America, we can use all we want — our forefathers died in wars to make it so.” That’s why Sam’s sells it 36 rolls at a time.
Thanks, Jeff, awesome update! I, too, have been very disturbed by the fact that an entire ad campaign started with the rhetorical question, “Does a bear shit in the woods?”. I don’t want to see these commercials, or commercials for erectile dysfunction, or commercials for laxatives.
Great update Jeff! “Rorschach Test underwear” killed me.
I miss Detective Briscoe. Great update Jeff!
Indeed, the idea of a bear getting pissed about scraping remnants of remnants of animal guts and blue berries off its butt is upsetting. But I guess the marketing guys know what they are talking about. There is clearly a larger population of bears that require industrial strength wood pulp to rip the shit off the fur around their butt sphincter.
The one that really chokes my brain is the one with the women who want to “get serious about what goes on in the bathroom. The first time I saw that commercial I expected them to start talking about coat hanger abortions and marital rape. Just imagine how upset I was when they started talking about toilet paper getting snagged in their thorny bushes and unkempt ass holes. What’s wrong with you women?
Every person in a toilet paper commercial should have to wipe their sloppy mud ruts on camera and show how the toilet paper they are pitching holds up against the gravel like anuses. Surely these people’s turd tubes are made of something more akin to six grit sandpaper than human flesh. Why else is the TP going down in nice even squares and coming back like something shot out of a morbid confetti canon? What’s going on down there? Are they strapping the TP to a 4 horsepower gas ran weed-eater and ramming it up their ass like an angry teenager going to town on an ant hill?
As far as you retro commercial goes, it’s just as bad as the rest. I don’t need to see some old man and a 13 year old girl talking about squeezing things in the bathroom. Why’s that old dudes sniffing the TP? Does he do before an after sniff tests to confirm whether or not it maintains its good smell? Watch that video again, the look on Mom’s face when she gets her hands on the Charmin is like she just found a nine pound dick and she can’t help but bite it. Notice that little Timmy isn’t talking about the wonderful softness of the TP in this commercial; and it’s not because shopping is women’s work. We all know that the first thing that pops into everyone’s brain when a male talks about bathroom tissue softness is how many different way he can make a hand pussy with it.
Nice additions here ice
I just shit myself laughing. Thank GOD I’ve got a 48 pack on Charmin handy.
Ice….that was the cherry on top of the sundae. Absolutely priceless!
You naaasty boy. Makin’ me laugh like dat. Shame on you.
Wow. At least I can say that I wasn’t drinking anything that could shoot out of my nose. I did, however have a nice spittle spray that decorated the monitor. Well done!
Totally agree with you on this Jeff!!!!
I just realized that we don’t have asswipe commercials in Italy. It’s asswipe, fer chrissakes. I just make sure it’s two ply and double roll so I don’t have to put on a new roll so often.
This isn’t rocket science and, evidently, the Italians are more aware of that than Americans.
Holy hell, Jeff. This update is fucking killer. The waitress at the bar I’m in was wondering why I was laughing so hard that I was crying. Then I read the first two paragraphs to her…
My neighbor said once:
“I don’t like that new toilet paper my wife bought.”
Me: Why?
Neighbor: It’s like wiping your ass on a quilt.
Ah, good ole fashioned potty humor. I may be nearing 50 years of age, but still have the sense of humor of a 7th grader. Great post!
Unrelated note: the ad on the bottom of the Report (on my phone) is for “Drug and Alcohol Rehab.” Never!
Shakespeare never wrote about toilet paper, and Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole
I wanted to call Pablo Picasso an asshole, but it turned out he was dead. So I drove past the Stop -n- Shop instead.
.
Great update Jeff. You really know how to turn a phrase about ass wiping!
One of the funniest fucking things you’ve written this year, Jeff. Apparently turning 50 suits you!
I only shit on roller coasters. And pregnant Lindsey Logan.
My grandmother would roll in her grave seeing these newer commercials. She couldn’t even say the words “toilet paper”, she’d whisper “people paper” with a delicate hand over her mouth.
One of your top funniest updates, Jeff. We are all 8 years old at heart and love a good poop story… I was laughing so loud and hard, I had to put my IPad down for a second. My boyfriend said..”you must be on The Surf. You never laugh like that unless you’re reading that thing.”
No website better than the WVSR…. and then the gems in the comments is icing on the cake
My dog leaves a skidmark on the carpet 7 times longer than I can (I tried three times) so I gotta go with the science.
I hate to bust your balloon, but there are some people out there in this country who count the squares. One woman I knew would come storming out of the bathroom after one of her frequent daily checks of how much was left on the roll as compared to how much she thought should be there, screaming, “Who used more than 2 squares of toilet paper?!!” This was just for peeing. Of course she allowed more for dumps–like maybe 4 squares. I shit thee not….
Another person I know a little better and talk to more often is quite upset at how much her family member can use after these…uhm…sessions. I have tried to explain to her that we are not cookie cutter derivatives, that some of us are made a leetle bit different than others down there–with hills, valleys and blind alleys, so to speak, and then there’s always amount and consistency of outflow to be reckoned with, but to no avail. She uses such and such an amount–everybody else ought to, too. And–of course–they’re all doin it wrong, and she’s doin it right.
I do relate to the commercial that aired not too long ago showing the guy in danger of decapitation by the roll of too harsh toilet paper tossed his way. I, too, am not interested in lacerating myself just to get clean. On the other hand, I could also sympathize with the person in the same commercial who tries to catch a roll of TP that is so soft it disintegrates into a cloud of fluff when it is tossed their way. I don’t like the idea of those little bits of soft paper made from chemical batter lurking about on my bum, perhaps waiting for the opportunity to migrate up into my nether regions. I mean, if talcum powder has been implicated in causing ovarian cancer by migrating up into a woman’s female parts–fer cryin out loud, what horrible outcome would the migration of…shit wads to do a person’s innards.
Wasn’t it the band The Smiths that put out that album “Toilet Paper is Murder” back in 1985?
And I thought I was the only guy who used the pillowcase to wipe his ass at the Red Roof Inn.
I don’t know about your forefathers Jeff, but mine died for PRE-MOISTENED wipers. Not those thin, flushable ones either. And none of that awkward ziploc refill nonsense. It’s a fancy, clamshell hardcase, one-handed affair for me. My wife calls me “mr. Millionaire”, but she can stuff it. I buy the best toothbrushes and quality wipes. I’ve got about forty years to go. Let the Greeks have their austerity plan. Pinchin’ copper on the boca or the dupa ain’t in my plan.
I’m with you, Jed. We all have bidets over here, but I just can’t get used to ’em, so I’m a wipes chick.
They’re getting out of hand with the masturbation shit too. Trojan is the chief offender. Selling vibrators in Target and shit like that. The commercials are over the top. There’s nowhere else for these sick fucks go – shit paper and dildos.
Wonderful way to start my morning. More gems in this than an African blood mine.
Toodle. (Tood-l)
noun.
Tiny wads of cheap toilet paper left behind by vigorous wiping.
The above was coined by my best friend. She came out of the bathroom at a local bar telling me to go and see the “artwork” on wall. “Someone wiped with such velocity, there are toodles all over the wall”. Good times.
“rectum ribbon” – Jesus, Jeff, that almost stopped my heart. And that was just the first sentence.
I can’t use that fancy shmancy triple quilted toilet paper. It wreaks havoc with the septic, balls up in the shitter and requires 10 minutes of pure plunger action. I am foced – FORCED – to use Scotts.
Hot damn! I laughed so hard at this, it made me wish I’d actually read it at work. I suppose I should be like those who keep refreshing the page to catch it hot off the presses.
I do remember back in the day when Northern had 15 different colors of toilet paper, each with a different baby on the front. Green, blue, pink, beige, and all sorts of other colors. Charmin had all these different colors as well. I have to assume that many choices of colored toilet tissue were all the rage until, what? The late 80s? Then it was a health hazard. Heh. They still let us smoke (well, those who smoked…I couldn’t stand the thought of drawing FIRE–ok–SMOKE) into my lungs, no matter how cool it looked (and how cool The Three Stooges made it look!)
So: high school–smoking and asbestos. Supermarkets–smoking until at least 1986, and toilet paper that ranged every color of the rainbow. No matter–the folks ALWAYS chose white.
At the start of my junior year in high school they put in a smoking area out back, which created a HUGE improvement in the quality of life. No more stoners setting the toilet paper on fire. It was nice to be able to use the crapper.
.
Heh. Out back?! The smokers at our school smoked on the inside! This was something that even my parents didn’t do when they were in high school–and in the 60s, you could smoke in the hospital room, if there wasn’t an oxygen tent.
Doin’ some early morning channel surffiin’ using the, ‘click, pause, click, pause’, method and landed on something just long enough to hear, (and I’m not making this up…honest!)…”God is on the throne”.
I actually prefer a good “bear shitting in the woods” over the old commercials where everyone delicately dabbed their noses with the crapper paper. SO SOFT!
This is like a “whitepaper” on toilet paper. Library of Congress look out!
***did the title of this update change? Wasn’t it, “Some of These Toilet Paper Ads Are Grossing Me Out”?
According to the still-good URL, it was “some of these toilet paper commercials are grossing me out”.
.
Thanks…close enough. I just wanted to make sure I haven’t been doing too much ether while Ms. Wife is away.
“Mr. Whipple is probably somewhere right now, with a single tear running down his cheek.”
That made my Monday a little brighter, right there! 🙂
A bear & a rabbit were taking a shit behind a large oak tree. The bear asks the rabbit if he has a problem with shit sticking to his fur. The rabbit says no. The bear says good then grabs the rabbit & promptly wipes his ass with him.
Jeff,
Why haven’t you embraced your ass? You won’t crap at work, you wear cheap underwear and you say toilet paper doesn’t matter????? Dude. Take care of your ass and it will take care of you.
In a couple of years, your ass either won’t work when you want it to or won’t stop when you need it to.
Maybe I should start “Be Kind to your Ass Day”?
Taking a dump can be as fun as a cocaine/sex jamboree if you treat it as if it were a ceremony. Why do you think they call it “the throne?’ It can also lead to a great sense of pride and well being.
BTW: Don’t you hate people who don’t know bad-ass has a hyphen? I rolled up on a guy in a jacked-up pickup truck that had “Bad Ass Toy” across the back window.
I was thinking…. pineapple?