The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers
My friends, there is something of grave importance which I think we need to discuss. And since written communication is delightfully one-sided, we're going to discuss it, whether you like it or not. And no, it's not the fact that today's date is 04-04-04, although that is kind of cool. No, I'm afraid we have much more pressing business than some delightful number synchronicity, although just stop for a moment and calculate how many times that sort of thing is even going to happen in your short little lives. It's neato! Sorry, I got distracted for a second, there. As I was saying, there is something of phenomenal importance that needs to be addressed promptly, for the welfare of our children. I'm just going to come out and say it - Tigger has molested innocent women. Sort of gives a whole new meaning to my "pressing business" comment, doesn't it? Ha! Yes, Tigger, the beloved companion of Winnie "the Pooh" Horowitz and the Calvin to his Hobbes, Christopher "Batman and" Robin, has taken a running leap off of the Diving Board of Instability into the Deep End of the Pool of Crime. The victim? A thirteen year old girl and her mother. The crime? Molestation. The perpetrator? Uh... Tigger. I was pretty sure we had established that. But don't take my word for it. Look at what FOX "Mulder" News has to say about this most heinous of crimes:
ORLANDO, Fla. — A Walt Disney World employee who worked as the character "Tigger" was charged Friday with molesting a 13-year-old girl and her mother while posing with them for pictures.The sheriff's office received a complaint that a costumed character at Disney World had touched a girl and her mother.
"As the photo was being taken, (the victim) claims that Tigger moved his right hand up to her right breast and started massaging it several times," the report said. "(The victim) became very embarrassed and ashamed of the incident and claims that she did not say anything to her mother until they left the park."
The girl later learned that the costumed character had done the same thing to her mother with his left hand, according to the report.
Like I'm sure most of you are doing right now, I initially searched for something, anything that could give me the faith I needed to believe that Tigger was innocent. I desperately sought for some sort of justification for the feelings welling up inside me which wanted to cry out, "It's alright, Tigger, I know it isn't true!" At first I faulted the source. FOX News isn't that reliable. Surely the station responsible for "Joe Millionaire," "The Simple Life," and multiple seasons of "Temptation Island" couldn't be counted on for factual, unbiased news reporting. I kept telling myself that FOX would just go for the ratings, no matter what lies they had to spin or whose good name they had to drag through the Mud of Slander, while simultaneously denying them the Towel of Truth. But my flimsy excuses and confusing metaphors weren't enough to keep myself convinced.
I tried telling myself that it wasn't Tigger's fault. This girl and her mother were obviously out of their minds. Or worse, they were just trying to attack some innocent celebrity with some baseless accusation in order to get some easy publicity and free money. Shame on these two women and their hurtful lies! Shame! That, too, soon fell flat. These women didn't seem like the types to go golddigging at Disney World. Well then, I said, it must be a simple misunderstanding. I mean, have you ever seen those character costumes? Have you looked at the size of the gloves on those things? Of course Tigger groped their chests while posing for a photo. With gloves that huge, it's impossible for a mascot to put his hand on a girl's shoulder without groping her chest, grabbing her crotch, and doing her taxes at the same time. Tigger wasn't trying to cop a feel, he was trying to give these ladies a friendly squeeze on the shoulder. Which people do. I think. The point is, with gloves that huge, you squeeze one body part, you squeeze them all. It comes with the territory. Or so I tried to convince myself. But eventually even that fell apart under the withering internal gaze of my mind's eye. I had to come to terms with the truth, as you must do as well - Tigger is a sex offender.
We should have seen this coming. Tigger was always the least trustworthy of the stuffed friends who populated the 100 Acre Wood. There was just something about him that didn't sit quite right. It's hard to put your finger on. He always had that cocksure attitude about him. While all of the other characters in the forest dealt with crippling neuroses ranging from anxiety to overwhelming depression, Tigger was the only one who really seemed to have his life in order, and he lorded that fact over the others just a little bit. There was always something that set him apart from the others. He never tried to win, earn, or even keep anyone's friendship. He just seemed to assume that everyone in the immediate area would want to gravitate toward him, like he had some sort of incredible, undeniable, irresistible charisma. Furthermore, as some sort of half-tiger, half-spring creature, he was the only one of his species. He had no chance of legitimate procreation. But this never seemed to bother ol' Tigger. In fact, he could be heard frequently going so far as to sing about how wonderful it was that he was the only creature in the world to have his peculiar genetic makeup.
The wonderful thing about Tiggers
Is Tiggers are wonderful things
Their tops are made out of rubbers
Their bottoms are made out of springs
They're bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy
fun, fun, fun, fun, FUN
But the most wonderful thing about Tiggers
I'm the only one
Oh, it's all just so damn clear now! How long were our eyes closed to the blinding truth? "Their tops are made out of rubbers?" Good lord, of course this beast is a sex offender, he's got prophylactics for a brain! Tigger's song is basically an admission of his deviant sexual practices. For years, this creature has been mouthing off about how much he enjoys his nights of "bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy fun, fun, fun, fun, FUN." With lyrics like that as his motto, can we even act surprised that Tigger is groping breasts left and right? That sounds like bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy fun to me! And I think a certain few West Coast governors would have to agree with me on that point. The fact that Tigger considered his genetic solitude to be a good thing is only further damning evidence. If a being cannot reproduce, what sort of attitude toward sexuality can we expect it to have? Why, if your next door neighbor told you that he was impotent, but that he loved to have bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy fun, you'd just assume he was a child molester on basic principle! Why did we wait so long to hold Tigger to the same standard? That's right, I said "we." I blame you for this, society! It's your fault that Tigger's obviously sexually predatory nature went ignored for so long. The signs have been there the whole time. We all are guilty of ignoring them. The question is, could something have been done about this earlier, before two women were groped? I sat down with the residents of the Hundred Acre Wood to investigate.
I managed to get a few of the Hundred Acre Wood's more notable faces away from their busy schedules to give their thoughts on this disturbing news about their friend. Unsurprisingly, the news had already broken among these staunch friends. I got the feeling that I was not the first reporter who had tried to reach them for questioning. "Well of course he's a sex offender," said an irritated Rabbit, pausing to take a hurried puff of a Camel Red. "I tried to warn everyone to just stay away from that pervert Tigger. I knew he was bad news. Oh yes, I knew. But did anyone listen to me? Not a chance! No way! All I ever wanted to do was to try to keep an air of peace and order and harmony and freaking civility in this godforsaken forest, and what does it get me? A little bit of Jack, and a few heaping handfuls of shit!" He then stopped to wipe a white residue from the underside of his nose.
Eeyore the donkey, who is known for his glum outlook and detachable tail, had a different opinion. "I never thought Tigger was that bad of a person," he droned in a low monotone that made me consider getting up and leaving. "He may have had too much energy, but he was always there for you when you needed him. Just last month he helped me in an assisted suicide attempt. Of course, it didn't work. It never does." He stopped for a moment and sighed, the deep exhalation carrying with it the crushing weight of a life of utter failure. "I don't know if he really molested those ladies, but if he did, I can't really blame him. I'd molest someone too, if I only had the hands to make such a pathetic expression of my stunted sexuality even feasible. I should be so lucky to be accused of molesting someone. At least then it would mean that I would have gotten a little action. As it is, no woman will touch me. Not that I can blame them. Look at me. I can't even keep my tail on. You have to be able to keep it on to get it up, you know? Sometimes I think I have leprosy, but then I just remember, no, of course I don't have leprosy. If I had a fatal disease, then I'd have to die, and then God wouldn't be able to laugh at my misery anymore." He went on for another half hour, but I decided to do my best to tune him out before I fell into a depression coma. Eeyore later assured me that he was used to that kind of treatment from the other inhabitants of the Hundred Acre Wood. He continued to tell me why it was alright, but my conscience was already placated, so I just left.
Winnie the Pooh is perhaps the best known character in the Hundred Acre Wood. A veritable spokesman for all who live there, he had this to say about his longtime friend Tigger: "That dumb shit finally got himself caught. It's no surprise. I was always suspicious of him. It's like he was wired twenty-four seven. That guy was worse than Rabbit in the middle of one of his OCD binges, which, by the way, is what his therapist says we should call them. OCD binges. Not coke fiestas. Anyway, Tigger was a fun guy, sure, but he was fun like the buddy you go to a strip club with, but never tell your parents you know. He was the guy to go to when you felt like getting into trouble. We all liked him, sure. But trusting him? That was another story. Nobody trusted Tigger. Nobody wanted to turn their back on him. The guy had an absolutely zero percent chance of finding a mate. Do you know what that does to a guy? He was so ready to get laid, he would have done anything that moved. Or even not. I'm not saying it's all he ever thought about, but I always made sure he wasn't behind me before I did my morning toe-touches. He wasn't the sort of guy you wanted to get your head stuck in a honeypot around, you know? There was no telling what he might do. But then, none of us have been our best lately. We've all been just barely holding back from whatever dumb, dangerous vices we happen to enjoy. Tigger was just the first one of us to snap. Maybe if more of you had bothered to rent our last movie, 'The Book of Pooh,' this all could have been avoided! How do you like that, you ingrates!"
As one of the youngest residents of the Hundred Acre Wood, Piglet has nonetheless had more than his fair share of adventures alongside Winnie the Pooh. Most of these adventures have had something to do with Piglet getting lost, which most people took as a sign of the young pig's often confusing androgyny. "Did Tigger ever molest me? Oh dear! Oh dearie, dearie, dear! Oh dear! Oh! Oh dear! Dearie! Dear me, no! Sometimes he would make fun of me for having a curly tail but not being able to bounce on it. And then other times he'd try to teach me to bounce by bouncing up and down with me on a big bed. And sometimes we'd bounce up and down on the bed, but under the sheets. But molest me? Dearie, no!"
When reached for comment, Kanga refused to make any statement about whether little Roo had ever been molested by Tigger, or whether she had ever been molested herself. But, like FOX News, I will assume that her silence means the worst.
Weekend Web: The Thing After Greasnin
Hello internet friends, Zachary "Spokker Jones"Gutierrez here with a steaming hot Weekend Web ready to be consumed by angry internet users. The one thing I strive for each week is to piss off as many people as I can. Unfortunately I havn't been hitting my weekly quota lately. Here's hoping this week's instalment hits some hot heads pretty hard. Just check out this stupid image featuring some bozo.
I can't believe that someone would insult someone else over the internet! This makes me mad and it should make you mad too! Don't forget to send some angry email after you're done. Thank you and God bless.