Why The Peekaru is the End of Days.

Although I've been getting emails and twitter messages for quite some time now about The Peekaru, I've been hesitant to sit down and actually write something about it. It's just a big-ass can of worms that I don't know if I'm strong enough to open. I feel like if I were to start analyzing why I find The Peekaru so offensive, my heart might be all, "fuck this noise!", pack up his bags and exit through my asshole. And can I really blame him for not wanting to stick around and circulate blood so I can give The Peekaru more undeserved attention? No; I can not.

However, The Peekaru isn't going away; it's gaining momentum. One more obscure blog article by some schmo-ette blogger isn't going to make a lick of difference. So it's with a heavy heart and a Bayer aspirin by my side that I analyze the offensiveness of...The Peekaru.

Why The Peekaru Brings us Down as a People and a Nation

Right off the bat I'm going state explicitly that this product is so offensively unnecessary that it makes it hard for me to breathe. Every time I glance at it, my chest tightens a little bit more. I ask you this: if we entered another Ice Age today, what would archaeologists assume about our society 30 million years in the future upon discovering worthless products like The Peekaru? Answer? They would assume that we are the most simple motherfuckers to ever graze god's green earth. Our race would be called Doucheasapians. History textbooks would read:

"Doucheasapians roamed the earth 30 million years ago in the DaneCookazoic era. These early creatures were too busy masturbating with razors and watching The Hills to figure out how to operate simple blankets. Because Doucheasapians could not handle the complexity of blankets but needed the warmth they supplied, they developed Peekarus and Snuggies to stay warm while leaving their hands and arms free to exchange high-fives at bars playing Journey. They were a simple people with simple wants and simple needs."

And I mean, honestly, is it really necessary to cover over 95% of your child's body in fleece? I get that it's admirable to protect your child from the cold and nobody likes a baby-sicle, but isn't this a bit overkill? What sort of mysterious Arctic chill has gripped your random Pennsylvania town that you need to wrap your baby in head-to-toe material and protect it in a tent of your own body warmth? Isn't that called a womb? If your baby still needed to be protected from the elements by being trapped inside your person, don't you think Mother Nature would have let it cook for a few more months? It popped out for a reason. It's ready to wear Baby Gap and experience sunlight.

On a secondary level, this situation is just absolutely frightening to look at. My vagina already hurts every time I see a pregnant woman; I don't need a reminder that one day those fleece lips will one day be replaced by something else entirely more frightening and personal...

On a tertiary level, have some god-damn respect for you and yours. I can understand "function over fashion," but only to a certain point. It's the same point where I get off-board with Crocs, sneakers with business suits and rain ponchos: you look abso-fucking-lutely ridiculous. And you should care about that. But not only are you making yourself look like a jackass, you're making your child look like a total jackass—against his/her will! The Peekaru is essentially Snuggie-rape! And you have a natural born right to choose whether or not you want to subject yourself to The Snuggie. Don't take that right away from someone. Nevertheless family. That's just sick.

Finally, The Peekaru enrages me for the exact same reason that everything and everyone around me does: it's a stupid product that was invented by a stupid person who will be more wealthy and successful than I will ever be. Ever. Period. And I want to cry about it forever.

But, you know what? Fuck it! Fuck my current aspirations and dreams! I'm going to invent something totally pointless and idiotic and make millions of dollars! And then I'm going to fill my bathtub with hundred dollar bills and diamonds! And then I'm going to get in the bathtub and roll around until I'm covered in diamond-paper-cuts and bleed to death. Because that's how I've always envisioned my own demise.

SO! What to invent? Hmm...Well the Peekaru is basically just a slightly altered version of The Snuggie, so maybe I'll just slightly alter The Peekaru. I mean, that Peekaru kid's face is just hangin' out there in the cold. If you're going to commit to a stupid idea, I say go hard or go home. Thus, I give you the world's only full face Peekaru—The Womb Tomb!

CHA-CHING!!!