Wipes, Dude

So a couple of weeks ago I was minding my own business watching the latest UFC of Fox card. Dennis Burmudez choked out Clay Guida, Anthony Johnson pounded the holy living dogshit out of Little Nog, and Robbie Lawler outlasted Matt Brown in the main event. Fun night of fights, and a nice way to wind down after a stressful week.

In that main event, one of Matt Brown’s sponsors caught my eye. And how could you not notice something with this logo:


Sigh… Okay, sports marketing, you win again. I’m intrigued, so let’s find out what the fuck is up with these things.

To the homepage! Ahh, of course. You can’t just have Dude Wipes. No, no. Dude Wipes is merely one product under the benevolent umbrella of Dude Products. Why would I say benevolent? Because of their tagline – “Saving the World, One Dude at a Time.” Unaware that I needed saving, I am now thoroughly grateful to the higher dudes who seek salvation for their fellow dudes. Let’s all bow our heads in reverence to the sacred beer bong, representing our highest deity: Lord Dude Bro.

(Note: Lord Dude Bro is actually just an anthropomorphized buffalo chicken quesadilla, comedically posed wearing a pair of white Oakleys and a Michigan State hat.)

“What are Dude Wipes? (we’re back on the homepage now)

“If you’re still wiping with just toilet paper you’re a chump and your ass hates you for it. Any red-blooded American knows Dude Wipes™ are off the chains.”

This is clearly Old Testament Lord Dude Bro, what with his accusations and recriminations. Wiping with just toilet paper, bro? What are you – a fucking idiot? Or worse, SOME FOREIGNER? Just a foreign bro from some foreign bro-land like Australia where they surf and barbecue and slay hot Australian poon all day? Wait, actually that sounds cool. Those dudes are all right! *chest bump*

So, what are you – French or something? Because any red-blooded American dude knows that toilet paper is whack (or beat, or bunk or papera-non-grata or… look, I don’t know current bro-slang, and I don’t think these guys do either because I’ve only ever heard “off the chains” used in the singular, so whatever) and in order to properly give your starfish the proper sheen, you clearly need these fine products. Dude.

*Also sweet for your face, hands, pits and dude regions.

Awesome! My dude regions! I remember when I was navigating the Southern Dude Peninsula back in aught-four and ran out of provisions – man, I how longed for Dude Wipes even though they didn’t exist. And longing is totally a chick emotion, so let’s just say I would have crushed some Dude Wipes back then. That’s right. Crushed ‘em! Slayed ‘em! Crushslayed ‘em! That’s way more dudely!

Which is to say nothing of the great crossing of the Upper Dude Fjord of ‘98. We lost 24 dudes on that expedition including Freddy, Squatch, J-Party, Flinch, Mojave, Gus, Double Wide, Triple X, Senor Hooters, and Breckin Meyer. We may not have saved all those dudes, but at least no one would’ve had a stank ass nutsack.

Moving right along. For a mere $6.99, you get 48 Dude Wipes. Righteous deal! Let’s hear about it!

“Toilet Paper + Dude Wipes = King of the Throne

“There’s nothing like basking in the chillness of your own bathroom — a quiet sanctuary to reflect and just be a dude. Treat yourself like the king of the throne with Dude Wipes Crib Edition™, the premium upgrade to any domain.”

All joking aside, I just have to pause to admire that set of sentences for their absolute absurd majesty. Read that description in Keanu Reeves’s voice, and then try to stop laughing for the next 15 minutes. You can’t! It’s really got everything! Fifty-cent words married with dude speak, quasi-philosophical musings, and naked salesmanship. I know it seems like I’m making fun of this – and I totally am – but I legitimately adore this description. I wish everything were this hilariously earnest while attempting so desperately to mask its pandering to deep male insecurity.

Look, I had planned to continue poking fun at this product, including their bloated parody of a “Communications Dude” who goes by the Twitter handle @MaximusGirthius, but you get the idea here. I could do this for a month of Sundays because the thick musk of bro speak chokes all of these pages to an extent I’ve not seen since I had that subscription to Stuff Magazine in college.

At their heart, these are basically sanitary wipes no different from these, these, or, fundamentally, these, but they reside in a small alpine village that’s been blanketed by an out of control avalanche of bro-speak, dude posturing and sort of charming obfuscation of remarkable discomfort with talking about something “icky.”

And the truth is, once you get beyond the overbearing frat house copy that chokes every page on this website, it seems like a totally decent product. In fact, 5% of their sales go to the Colon Club, which seeks “to educate as many people as possible, as early as possible, about the risk factors and symptoms of colorectal cancer, and for people to get screened when it’s appropriate for them.” That’s fantastic!

On their Dude Values page they list some ridiculous bro statements in line with the rest of the copy on this website (“The Dudeness is the Magic” – what the fuck does that even mean?), but it also has this: “Balance Profits with Natural Resources and Social Good.” What the fuck, man? There’s a clip from Jiro Dreams of Sushi, which seems out of place as well. I… what?

It seems likely that the guys behind this product understand their audience better than I want to give them credit for. The tiresome over-selling of how it’s totally okay, bro! You can use this product without losing your man card! isn’t a product of 4 d-bags forcing their own insecurity onto their customers, but a reflection of their customers secretly wanting permission to use an otherwise taboo product, and getting it thanks to heavy dudespeak.

What’s most amusing is that this is occurring in 2014. This is not like an awkward teenager having to ask a pharmacist for condoms in a 1950s drug store, it’s a simple way of keeping your ass clean. Good for you! Some people get weirded out when Kristin and I talk about how we’ve used Metamucil (Muce!) for the last 5 or so years. Why? It’s good for you, and I have no shame anymore after going through – and talking about extensively – infertility. I suspect this will only help me when I have a child.

Live your lives without shame, people. And if you want to a flushable wipe to help your ass no longer “hate you,” at least according to Dude Wipes, then do it, and do it proudly. After all, you’re supporting research for colon cancer in the process.

But you don’t need mask that fact by talking in code, like some puka shell necklace-wearing jackass. Wouldn’t it be more manly to do the things you want and need and declare them without reservation?

I think so, dude.

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