Tea drinkers, it's time for me to tell my truth. I'm a bear. I live in a picaresque cottage with a wood-burning fireplace and I love to nap in my cozy green barcalounger. I make a damn soothing cup of herbal tea. And I fuck.
I'm tired of living in a society where being an anthropomorphized bear selling calming bedtime tea implies that I'm not a sexual being. Nothing could be further from the truth. I'm a sex-positive ursidae in touch with my body and on fire with sexual empowerment. Hell, if you've ever seen a picture of me, I'm not even wearing pants.
Don't let that cutesy nightcap fool you; I've got nothing on under my nightshirt and I refuse to be ashamed.
When I was younger, I let my sex-positive side hibernate, afraid of what people might think. But in reality, there are many hypersexual brand mascots that have been chasing ass all through your local supermarket for years. Mr. Clean, the Brawny paper towel guy, the Hamburger Helper hand, all of them fuck and we don't even question it. I'm just bringing sexy back to your tea and coffee aisle.
So who do I fuck? It’s a personal question, but I’m holding nothing back. For years, I've been in a loving, polyamorous relationship with the Coca-Cola polar bear. We have much in common: we're both bears, we're treasured marketing icons in the beverage segment, and we both believe that monogamy is a flawed social construct designed to suppress our innate sexuality. The Coca-Cola polar bear is my primary partner, but we have an understanding that we’re both wild souls with an insatiable sexual appetite and a lifelong commitment to nothing but the beverages we’re sworn to promote.
I've enjoyed—and continue to enjoy—many fulfilling sexual relationships with bear brand mascots and I have no regrets. There is nothing unnatural about two consenting symbols of brand propaganda getting it on.
I remember one magical weekend, the Charmin bears left the cubs with a sitter and took me up to their cabin where we made sweet love for hours on a pile of triple-ply. As the face of a tea company, I've had many messy but fun encounters with squeezable honey bears. And, just so we can finally put the rumors to rest, for most of the 1980's, yes, I was boning down with Snuggle. (Believe me, I helped him put his detergent cleaning power to the test on those sheets! He can deny it all he wants, but it wasn’t until I came along that he really found the inspiration to start selling the hell out of those fabric softeners.)
And through all of my sexual exploits, I’ve never stopped soothing millions of Americans to sleep every night as a welcome part of a tranquil nighttime tea drinking ritual.
Look, people, it’s 2020 and I refuse to be seen as some sexless old bear living alone with my cat. I am an unapologetic, smoking-hot Grizzly who's down to fuck, and down to unwind with a steaming mug of herbal infusion as a relaxing bedtime treat. I can calm your tummy and I can give you a night of ecstasy you'll never forget.
So the next time you throw a box of tea into your shopping cart, I want you to think about me, and the truths that I’ve revealed today. Does this bear fuck on the floral pattern rug on the floor of my little log house? And do I enjoy a relaxing cup of Celestial Seasonings' timeless and proprietary blend of spearmint, chamomile, lemongrass, and other hand-picked quality ingredients afterwards? Does a bear shit in the woods? The answer to all three questions is yes. Yes, I do.