on December 13, 2012
This is the biggest, baddest gummy M'Fer in the world! I dropped this bad boy on my cat and he fell throught the floor. Later, whilst being intruded upon by neighborhood thug-types, I used this Gummy of Death to deal out punishment upon them all. I am seriously thinking about moving underground and living a vigilante type life style with my gummy bear. It was originally a gift for my son, but screw him. He never cleans up after himself anyway, Brat.
on April 23, 2014
To me he is not a delicacy. He is Donald. He is my son and I will raise him as such. I will bathe, feed, care for, and instill in him the values he needs to grow into a proud gummy man. I will not consume him ( unless he acts out then I will take a nibble here and there ) & I will not allow the judgements of neighbors and peers to lessen my resolve!!
Welcome Home Donald. Father will protect you.
on April 22, 2014
When I get really depressed it's a huge inconvenience to have to fumble through a 5 pound bag of ridiculously small candies to get my required amount of food coloring and high fructose corn syrup, sometimes they even fall out onto the floor or roll under the couch and get lost, wasting hundreds of dollars over time. This 5 pound gummy bear solves all of those problems. I can now eat my feelings, one perfect mouthful at a time. This gummy bear is much harder to lose and when I'm through I can wrap it in plastic wrap for a few hours until I need my next dose of gummy bear. Excellent purchase.
on February 23, 2014
I bought this gummy bear as a thank you gift to the neighborhood squirrels. Those dear critters have consistently given me a helping hand with my gardening. Every morning, they ensure every potted plant on my balcony is safely dug out of its original pot, and gently placed several feet away from the pot of origin. Not only that, but the very gracious critters also go the extra mile, and throw small pieces of dirt all across my balcony so I know their task is completed.
Being the gracious host I am, I decided to buy this lovely treat for them. I placed it strategically between two potted plants so my dear squirrel friends would not miss it. The next morning, I realized the entire gummy bear was gone. Thinking it must have fallen off my balcony, I walked downstairs to investigate. As I reached the last step, I heard some odd squeaky sounds coming from behind the bushes. I slowly walked to the bushes, and lo and behold I found my entire gang of hard workers rolling around on the ground. They had red pieces of what I guess was gummy bear, plastered about their furry little bodies.
I am not sure if the squeaky sounds were grunts of joy or agony, but I would like to assume they were quite happy. One of them even seemed to have turned into the shape of the gummy bear head. I am glad the little guys finally got some well deserved recognition. I have not seen them back lately, which must mean someone else has purchased an even bigger gummy bear for them ... and they have left me for greener grasses.
I will always miss my little friends, but I would like to thank the maker of this gummy bear for giving me some great moments with my friends. I am sure others will be just as appreciative as they were.
on April 22, 2014
I didn't really think anything of it when I ordered the giant gummy bear. I was going hiking in the mountains and I wanted an easily backpackable snack. I figured I could snack on one 5lb gummy bear for the entire hike. Things started out okay enough, the hike was relaxing. It was mid-morning, and I got a bit snackish, so I pulled out Giant Gummy Bear and nibbled on his ear while hiking.
And that's when things went wrong, horrifyingly wrong. I wasn't watching my footing and I slipped off the edge of a small canyon, falling fifteen feet and losing my grip on Giant Gummy. I landed hard, and Giant Gummy slammed down on my arm like a chewy hammer, wedging it between the canyon wall and Giant Gummy's giant, gummy buttcheeks. It hurt, oh it hurt bad.
I drifted in and out of consciousness for hours. Night was falling when I really regained my wits and realized I was in trouble. I couldn't feel my hand, I couldn't stand up, I was pinned in place by Giant Gummy. I wrestled, I squirmed, I fought, but I was no match for Giant Gummy Bear. I was stuck.
Over the next couple of days, my consciousness deteriorated from exposure and dehydration. I saw my mom and grandparents, whom I lost in the 1990's, and they told me to hang on, that it wasn't my time yet. I thought of all my failed relationships, and business deals gone wrong. Most of all, I thought of my wife and kids, and how distraught they must be.
It was almost five days later when I accepted that help was never going to come, and I screwed together the courage and resolve to get myself out of my situation. I rummaged in my pack until I found my Swiss Army knife. It was hard to open it one-handed, but I managed. I poised it over my pinioned arm, gritted my teeth, and sunk the blade in.
Into Giant Gummy, that is. The first bite of Giant Gummy buttock was deliciously sweet and fake-cherry-rific, even after five days outside...but I knew I was going to have to eat a lot more than one bite. I kept carving into Giant Gummy, and eating Giant Gummy, for hours. My jaw grew tired from all the chewing, and my knife was covered in sugary, red goo. I was making progress, though. I could see parts of my arm that I hadn't seen since the fateful slip. Evening was close when I finally carved enough of a tunnel out of Giant Gummy that I could pull my arm free.
I stood up for the first time in 127 hours, turned to face down the mountain, and started walking. But first, I tucked the remains of Giant Gummy in my backpack, because hey, waste not, want not.