“A wise man learns not from experience but from the experiences of others”
If you are anything like me, once upon a time you loved gummy bears (both the sweets and the cartoons). In fact, I am ashamed to say I can still sing the whole theme song to that cartoon. *sigh* Perhaps growing up is a myth….or maybe it’s just me.
Anyway, a German Company started selling gummy bears on Amazon.com. Any self-respecting gummy bear lover would have to click at least once and ponder the possibility of investing in a 5 pound bag and regretting it later. What I found were arguably the most graphic (funny and traumatic) reviews of any product for sale I have ever read. Here are a couple:
Oh man…words cannot express what happened to me after eating these. The Gummi Bear “Cleanse”. If you are someone who can tolerate the sugar substitute, enjoy. If you are like the dozens of people that tried my order, RUN!
First of all, for taste I would rate these a 5. So good. Soft, true-to-taste fruit flavors like the sugar variety…I was a happy camper.
BUT (or should I say BUTT), not long after eating about 20 of these all hell broke loose. I had a gastrointestinal experience like nothing I’ve ever imagined. Cramps, sweating, bloating beyond my worst nightmare. I’ve had food poisoning from some bad shellfish and that was almost like a skip in the park compared to what was going on inside me.
Then came the, uh, flatulence. Heavens to Murgatroyd, the sounds, like trumpets calling the demons back to Hell…the stench, like 1,000 rotten corpses vomited. I couldn’t stand to stay in one room for fear of succumbing to my own odors.
But wait; there’s more. What came out of me felt like someone tried to funnel Niagara Falls through a coffee straw. I swear my sphincters were screaming. It felt like my delicate starfish was a gaping maw projectile vomiting a torrential flood of toxic waste. 100% liquid. Flammable liquid. NAPALM. It was actually a bit humorous (for a nanosecond)as it was just beyond anything I could imagine possible.
AND IT WENT ON FOR HOURS.
I felt violated when it was over, which I think might have been sometime in the early morning of the next day. There was stuff coming out of me that I ate at my wedding in 2005.
I had FIVE POUNDS of these innocent-looking delicious-tasting HELLBEARS so I told a friend about what happened to me, thinking it HAD to be some type of sensitivity I had to the sugar substitute, and in spite of my warnings and graphic descriptions, she decided to take her chances and take them off my hands. Silly woman. All of the same for her, and a phone call from her while on the toilet (because you kinda end up living in the bathroom for a spell) telling me she really wished she would have listened. I think she was crying. Her sister was skeptical and suspected that we were exaggerating. She took them to work, since there was still 99% of a 5 pound bag left. She works for a construction company, where there are builders, roofers, house painters, landscapers, etc. Lots of people who generally have limited access to toilets on a given day. I can’t imagine where all of those poor men (and women) pooped that day. I keep envisioning men on roofs, crossing their legs and trying to decide if they can make it down the ladder, or if they should just jump.
If you order these, best of luck to you. And please, don’t post a video review during the aftershocks.
When I got these, I couldn’t contain my excitement and I ate about a quarter of a bag. Scenes from the movie 2012 could have been filmed inside my gut. There would have been less pressure to make two winning free throws in the NBA finals than for gas to escape my bowels. After a few hours, I had an EXTREME build-up of gas with no relief. All I could do was lie on my bed and pray for a fart. That might sound funny, but when you’ve eaten something that has basically turned you into the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka, you’re pleading for relief. Well, the farts came and I lived through it but I not only had a visit from the fart fairy, but the sales rep from Montezuma’s Revenge stopped by and gave me a FULL demo of their services as well.
In retrospect, eating over a pound all at once wasn’t the brightest thing I’ve done (but it also wasn’t the dimmest). If I go back and finish the bag off, I’ll probably leave a suicide note.
Next time I am scheduled for a colonoscopy, I plan to eat sugar free gummi bears instead of drinking that nasty magnesium citrate. The bears are delicious and the cleansing effect is the same!
As I type this review, I’m on the toilet, surrounded by my dearest family and friends and a priest. I’m not exactly sure whether this is an exorcism or if I’m getting my last rites read to me. This very well could be my final crowning moment. I may never make it back to my feet. What a way to go. Will I go out by suffocating in a toxic byproduct stench? Will I croak from my body expelling all essential nutrients for life? Is this the apocalypse? What is occurring in my body right now may only be explained with the final 20 minutes of the movie Independence Day. The sweet gummy bears that I thought I had chewed and swallowed have now resurrected inside my bowels with a vengeance. The only thing that I can imagine they are doing is s***ting inside my digestive tract. Decomposed zombie gummy bear s***. This can’t be all my s***. There’s no way. That’s not my s***. That’s s*** from a supernatural entity living inside me. Literally nothing I’ve eaten in a dozen years could possibly turn my ass into a to-scale model of Mt. St. Helens, violently spewing what smells like a public bus filled with homeless people with fresh perms, in Mexico City at such a cyclic rate, that I’m worried the war veteran below me thinks he’s storming Normandy again. Shame on everyone who handled these bears before they made it to me. Shame on Amazon for making theses available for purchase. Shame on the guy in the warehouse who packaged this for shipment. Shame on the UPS guy for bringing this to my door. You all knew. I know you knew, and you knew I’d know. And you still let me do this to myself. Shame on you! My last hope now is that the force of gas propelling from my anus may be strong enough to disturb Satan himself in hell. And that he is so angered by this that he sends an entire fleet of brave minions to come up through the toilet and put me out of my misery.
Need I say more….