The Sleeved Blanket

I am a proud member of the Snuggie Cult. I am not ashamed to admit that I love wrapping myself up in my fleece leopard-print sleeved blanket and having the free use of my arms to change the TV station, play on the computer, or eat massive amounts of Better Made Barbecue chips.

I don't understand why people are so against these wonderful warm envelopes of love. One of the major arguments is that "it's just like a backwards robe!" Excuse you, but my robe does not cover my entire body and tuck around every inch of me, concealing me in a warm pocket of comfort. My robe is shorter than my body so my feet stick out and this hinders the mobility that the Snuggie provides.



It is also particularly excellent for smoking hookah, something I realize that not everyone condones. However, it is quite nice, in the winter, to sit in my bedroom with the window open and Katie next to me, in her zebra-print Snuggie, ably passing the hose to and fro without fear of clumsily knocking over the apparatus and burning a hole in my crappy brown carpet. Out of respect for my home, I employ the Snuggie to keep my window open and dissipate the smoke -- my house does not smell like "The Dope Den", which is what my mother calls my bedroom (there is no marijuana involved, only tobacco, Mother Dearest just thinks she's being clever.)

And the commercials. THE COMMERCIALS! Pure marketing genius.



Seriously, GOD BLESS SNUGGIE SEASON. I'm so glad you're back.