It’s a lovely day in the forest: birds sing happily and the canopy of green trees stretches high into the clouds above. Just around the serene river bend a family of bears strain to relieve their bowels ” or at least, that’s what the latest series of Charmin commercials would have you believe.

After “doing their business” in the forest, the bears are not content until Momma bear provides their backsides with the proper “squeezably soft” Charmin toilet paper.

Charmin’s commercial represents the moral decay of society, but not because of cheesy bear dancing devoted to toilet paper. What kind of twisted parent turns defecating into a family outing?

“Come on, kids, get your things; we’re going to crap!” Somebody needs to let the marketing wizards at Charmin know that copping a squat behind a tree is not the equivalent of playing Parcheesi around the table during family game night.

Who came up with the concept for this commercial anyway? When the advertising department was sitting around a table trying to find a way to reach people, which of the suit-and-ties jumped up and said, “Oh I’ve got it! Let’s tell a story about a family of bears whose main hobby is defecating!”

I’m sure he got promoted.

If Charmin really wanted to play up the whole “squeezably soft” issue they should have gone for a more simple approach: “Charmin: It won’t hurt your ass.”

I’m sold. After all, research shows that three out of four butt-wipers fear rectal pain more than any other toilet paper-related mishap (including skid marks).

And rightfully so; we’ve all experienced the painful sting of the sandpaper masquerading as toilet paper they supply us with in the dorms.

You know, the kind you have to mummify your arm up to your elbow until you look like Tutankhamen wiping your posterior with a beehive for it to possibly be of more use than a philosophy degree.

Surprisingly, out of all four people surveyed, nobody mentioned “lint” as their number-one fear when cleansing their backside. This was shocking as a recent Quilted Northern commercial tried to gain customer support by telling us that their brand of toilet paper has less lint than the “other leading brands.”

However, this is done in a less than impressive way. The audience is informed of this dire lint situation by a cartoon character who runs a cartoon lint brush across a cartoon piece of toilet paper then triumphantly holds up pieces of cartoon lint.

It’s not even real lint! Honestly, how convincing is that? I’m supposed to buy Quilted Northern because it has less fake lint on it?

Does anybody actually consciously worry about rectal lint on a day-to-day basis? Whose eyes are going to be that close to the crack of your hiney that you need to make sure it’s entirely lint free?

That would be an awkward situation: “Hey, Bill ” I don’t know how to tell you this but you’ve got some lint in your arse.”

“Oh, thanks Jim. Geeze, I hope I haven’t been walking around like that all day.”

Personally, when I’m running behind I don’t even shave, let alone take the time to pick out the dreaded pieces of lint that have collected in my hindquarters – and I’d be willing to bet most students, with the exception of art majors, share this prerogative (unless you’re really anal retentive – pun intended).

So unless you plan on attending class naked (in which case you’re probably so socially awkward that a bit of excess fanny lint will not be socially detrimental anyway), I’d recommend de-linting your rump only once a week (twice if you’re really thorough).

As for you students still in the dorms, don’t worry: we’re sending you wet wipes as soon as possible. Until then, you’ll just have to grit your teeth and bare it.

This is Colby James ([email protected]) answering the age-old question that, yes, bears do take care of their business in the woods.