By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
If you're a sucker for as-seen-on-TV products (and, really, who isn't? ShamWow, anyone?), love blankets with sleeves and have nothing to do on Saturday night, then this event was designed for you. And you if enjoy getting regrettably hammered with strangers and want to donate money to charity, then that's just the gravy.
Because Saturday is Snuggie Pub Crawl Day.
Just like the popular sleeved blanket for which it's named (and not to be confused with the Slanket), Snuggie Pub Crawls are sweeping this warm and cozy nation, with events from New York to Chicago to San Francisco. Denver's version, organized by 28-year-old ad rep Ted Morse — our hero — starts on the rooftop deck at Jackson's in LoDo at 3 p.m. and ends at 10 p.m. (Alternate ending number one: at 3 a.m. in your apartment, where you'll discover just how handy the holes in those blankets are. Alternate ending number two: at 4 a.m. in the Denver County Jail.)
The crawl will set you back $20, not including the cost of your Snuggie and most of your dignity. But the proceeds will go to the National Multiple Sclerosis Society and the Rocky Mountain Children's Law Center, says Morse, who organized the event with some cycling buddies after another planned Snuggie Crawl fell through. Morse and the planners of the other event, at www.snuggiepubcrawl.com, have since engaged in a war of Snuggie words on the Latest Word blog at westword.com, but that's another story.
"They didn't have their stuff together," says Morse, who's using Facebook to promote his event. "We're going to do one anyway."
Two hundred Snuggiers are expected to show up, he says, making their way through four LoDo bars. There will be drink specials, giveaways and a contest to see who has the most creatively decorated Snuggie. But mostly, there will be drinking.
Needless to say, we'll be there.
Tofu or not tofu: Do ULVTOFU? If so, then you've probably already heard about Kelley Coffman-Lee, the vegan Centennial mom who appeared in the April 9 Off Limits and went on to make national headlines when she announced that the Colorado Division of Motor Vehicles had rejected her attempts to buy a vanity license plate spelling out ILVTOFU, saying the letters might have naughty connotations.
The story even made the "Not My Job" segment of National Public Radio's Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me! on April 18. In it, Southern-fried chef and Food Network host Paula Deen, who hates tofu, was asked three multiple-choice questions about the flavorless, odorless food. One of them, which she got wrong, was about the license-plate controversy and whether it was true.
In the meantime, however, Coffman-Lee has fallen out of LV with the publicity she sought — and got. In a missive sent to the media on Monday, she bemoaned the fact that her message about eating healthy, global warming and being a vegan was misinterpreted and that the only thing people pay attention to are bad words.
"Profanity and controversy will always get attention in this society, because we are a tribe of imbeciles," she wrote. "Earth Day: if the masses aren't completely ignoring it, they're mocking it. All of us, not just the tofu-farting, tree-hugging hippies (as I've been labeled by an insightful critic), need to learn how to live within Earth's limits. Now that we know what these limits are, now that we've seen the destruction we're capable of unleashing upon the planet that sustains us, the future of our very existence is at hand — and in our hands...ILVTOFU because I love my family, the animals, my good health, and the planet I call home."
Chew on that for a while.