[QUOTE=Amez]I lost it reading one of the comments:[/QUOTE]
Some of the others are even better
[quote=Poor Bastard]Oh man...words cannot express what happened to me after eating these. The Gummi Bear "Cleanse". If you are someone that can tolerate the sugar substitute, enjoy. If you are like the dozens of people that tried my order, RUN!
First of all, for taste I would rate these a 5. So good. Soft, true-to-taste fruit flavors like the sugar variety...I was a happy camper.
BUT (or should I say BUTT), not long after eating about 20 of these all hell broke loose. I had a gastrointestinal experience like nothing I've ever imagined. Cramps, sweating, bloating beyond my worst nightmare. I've had food poisoning from some bad shellfish and that was almost like a skip in the park compared to what was going on inside me.
Then came the, uh, flatulence. Heavens to Murgatroyd, the sounds, like trumpets calling the demons back to Hell...the stench, like 1,000 rotten corpses vomited. I couldn't stand to stay in one room for fear of succumbing to my own odors.
But wait; there's more. What came out of me felt like someone tried to funnel Niagara Falls through a coffee straw. I swear my sphincters were screaming. It felt like my delicate starfish was a gaping maw projectile vomiting a torrential flood of toxic waste. 100% liquid. Flammable liquid. NAPALM. It was actually a bit humorous (for a nanosecond)as it was just beyond anything I could imagine possible.
AND IT WENT ON FOR HOURS.
I felt violated when it was over, which I think might have been sometime in the early morning of the next day. There was stuff coming out of me that I ate at my wedding in 2005.
I had FIVE POUNDS of these innocent-looking delicious-tasting HELLBEARS so I told a friend about what happened to me, thinking it HAD to be some type of sensitivity I had to the sugar substitute, and in spite of my warnings and graphic descriptions, she decided to take her chances and take them off my hands.
Silly woman. All of the same for her, and a phone call from her while on the toilet (because you kinda end up living in the bathroom for a spell) telling me she really wished she would have listened. I think she was crying.
Her sister was skeptical and suspected that we were exaggerating. She took them to work, since there was still 99% of a 5 pound bag left. She works for a construction company, where there are builders, roofers, house painters, landscapers, etc. Lots of people who generally have limited access to toilets on a given day. I can't imagine where all of those poor men (and women) pooped that day. I keep envisioning men on roofs, crossing their legs and trying to decide if they can make it down the ladder, or if they should just jump.
If you order these, best of luck to you. And please, don't post a video review during the aftershocks. [/quote]
[Quote=Another Unfortunate]As I type this review, I'm on the toilet, surrounded by my dearest family and friends and a priest. I'm not exactly sure whether this is an exorcism or if I'm getting my last rites read to me. This very well could be my final crowning moment. I may never make it back to my feet. What a way to go. Will I go out by suffocating in a toxic byproduct stench? Will I croak from my body expelling all essential nutrients for life? Is this the apacolypse?
What is occurring in my body right now may only be explained with the final 20 minutes of the movie Independence Day. The sweet gummy bears that I thought I had chewed and swallowed have now resurrected inside my bowels with a vengeance. The only thing that I can imagine they are doing is s***ting inside my digestive tract. Decomposed zombie gummy bear s***. This can't be all my s***. There's no way. That's not my s***. That's s*** from a supernatural entity living inside me. Literally nothing I've eaten in a dozen years could possibly turn my ass into a to-scale model of Mt. St. Helens, violently spewing what smells like a public bus filled with homeless people with fresh perms, in Mexico City at such a cyclic rate, that I'm worried the war veteran below me thinks he's storming Normandy again.
Shame on everyone who handled these bears before they made it to me. Shame on Amazon for making theses available for purchase. Shame on the guy in the warehouse who packaged this for shipment. Shame on the UPS guy for bringing this to my door. You all knew. I know you knew, and you knew I'd know. And you still let me do this to myself. Shame on you!
My last hope now is that the force of gas propelling from my anus may be strong enough to disturb Satan himself in hell. And that he is so angered by this that he sends an entire fleet of brave minions to come up through the toilet and put me out of my misery. [/quote]
[quote=Oh, The Horror]I stumbled across this product on a whim, as we use gummies in our home to bribe our toddler to "be good" and "fetch us beer and queso from the refrigerator". As I was reading the reviews, and laughing uncontrollably, I sent the link to my husband and encouraged him to read them as well. Well, my husband is borderline mentally "disabled" (is that PC?) and thought it would be a good idea to buy them. Twenty-five dollars and 2 days later (thanks to super-fast Amazon Prime shipping!!) we received our prize.
When my sweet impressionable son saw the package, he immediately exclaimed, "Present?!?! For meeee?!?!?" And what mediocre parent could deny their child the delight of ripping into a box full of goodies? As we watched him open the package, our eyes shimmering with anticipation of what we knew he would be so excited to find, he grabbed the massive package of candy, held them tight to his chest and screamed "Gummies!!!" We knew, right then, that we had succeeded as parents. We had crossed the finish line, climbed the mountain. We were no longer mediocre parents, but EXTRORDINARY parents.
What happened in the following 24 hours brought us back down to size. After eating approximately 30 gummy bears, he fell into a deep, sugar-free-gummy-induced sleep.
The next morning, the nightmare began.
I awoke to the aroma of something sickeningly sweet, yet rancid, permeating the entire house. I assumed one of our cats threw up somewhere, or maybe someone (my husband perhaps?) left a squirt of poo under the toilet seat. I figured I would figure out the culprit later, after my healthy breakfast of Count Chocula and Bud Light Lime.
This next part plays in slow motion in my mind...
I heard the whimpers of my son, the fruit of my loins, my reason for living, and knew he had awoken from his slumber. I went into his room to fetch him. And that's when the smell hit me.
A sweet, putrid smell that I cannot accurately describe entered my nostrils. I gagged, felt the bud light and cereal re-enter my throat, and using all of my willpower, swallowed it back down for digestion a second time.
Then my eyes focused on my son. Still laying in bed. His bed. It looked like a crime scene. A crime scene where the blood is brown...and stinky. His Thomas the Train bed was sprayed with the brown poo-water. His sheets, his pillow, his Winnie The Pooh (ironic?) stuffed animal. His Gymboree pajama bottoms (19.99 retail), originally white with images of puppies, were now a light brown, with specs of translucent gummy-esque bits. The poo-juice had covered my sweet son's hair, streaked across his face. The folds of his chubby little legs.
As my mind raced to adjust to the madness I was witnessing, everything suddenly slowed down as I came to a realization. I focused on the culprit. "Haribo Gummy candy, Sugarless Gummy Bears, 5-Pound Bag."
The boy was rushed to the shower, where he was hosed down and lathered in Old Spice body wash (the tear-free baby wash could not be trusted to a job of this magnitude). The bed sheets were stripped. All fabrics, including pillows and Pooh (both instances) were thrown into our front-loading, high-capacity washing machine. Thomas (the Train) was wiped down liberally with anti-bacterial cleansing wipes.
I still, 5 days later, cannot get the smell out of his room. I don't know if perhaps a rogue spray of poo lodged itself into an inaccessible corner of the room. Or perhaps one of his toys or stuffed animals is hiding a drop of the potent poo-venom. I may never know.
My advice? Stay away from these gummy bears. DO NOT give them to your child, or anyone you love. The reviews are REAL. Seriously. [/quote]
[quote=Jebediah]I was looking for a low calorie 'grazing' snack when I originally bought this product. Tastes fine. After my first enjoyment, I experienced something less enjoyable. That might have been something else I ate that day, so some time later, full of wariness and scientific curiosity, I ate some just before leaving work.
1 hour, 30 minutes later, after retrieving the children from school, we arrive back at home.
During this time, the gummi bears, hereafter referred to as The Fuel, were being carefully processed in the fuel system of Space Ship Me. I can only assume that The Fuel is a highly advanced binary propellant because it is non-reactive and benign in storage and even during initial ingestion. But as with all binary propellants, when mixed with the complementary other half of the pairing, the results are highly energetic.
Turning my parental duties over the the capable hands of the Roku and widescreen TV, I proceeded upstairs apace, shedding unnecessary accoutrements as I could tell this cowboy was about to Go Rodeo.
Entering the Launch Facility (a.k.a. real estate agents refer to it as the 'master bath') I approached the Launch Pad itself, a fine furnishing manufactured by American Standard. As it was handy to the direct path of travel, and to further the cause of Science!, I stepped onto the bathroom scale and made note of my weight. I then configured the Launch Pad into the second receiving mode and positioned Space Ship Me atop the launch aperture.
All hatches closed!
Exhaust fans to full power!
Sitzfleisch sealed to Launch Pad support ring! (It's a German double entendre, look it up.)
Fuel flow starting, easing open sphincter, commence count down!
10!
9!
8!
Whoops, 1!
Thrust built rapidly to the 100% rating of the nozzle. The exhaust thundered against the parabolic shape of the Launch Pad and reverberated back upwards, buffetting the structure of Space Ship Me.
I swear, if I had thought ahead to equip the Launch Pad with the kind of camera available for the Discerning Customer with Refined Tastes from a Discrete Retailer, you might have seen shock diamonds.
I know some other customers have thought that they might have needed seat belts, but from my dispassionate observation point, I could objectively see that I had not yet achieved Lift-Off. That happened on the Saturn V launches as well: they had to sit on the pad for a while at full thrust until just enough fuel has burned off to make the thrust exceed weight.
It's a long way to orbit, and I was in a hurry to get to the ISS, so the only thing to do was to go to 125% on the nozzle.
That's where things started to go wrong. Thrust increased, to be sure, hammering the porcelain, but the exhaust flow became turbulent. It was also becoming asymmetric. The signal came from below, "The engines cannae take any moor, Cap'n!" (I have no idea why my arse has a Scottish accent.)
Fuel flow dropped off and the nozzle output dropped to merely 10%, with some damage to the combustion chamber.
But luckily, sitting quietly for about five minutes, The Fuel had regenerated enough pressure that I could make another attempt.
After about thirty minutes and several attempts, I had not achieved lift off, and Thank God, because I realized belatedly that I hadn't a plan for how to get through the ceiling and roof.
But the scale revealed that I had lost seven (7) pounds. [/quote]
whenever we went to germany in the past i'd bring back 10kg+ of haribo with me.
it'd be all gone within a week of two.
[QUOTE=Awesomecaek;42542357]Fuck, I need to go buy a baggie to honour his glorious memory.[/QUOTE]
How is weed going to honour him
[QUOTE=smurfy;42545597]How is weed going to honour him[/QUOTE]
stoner logic.
But he didn't invent it, his father did.
Hans Riegel is the son, he was born in 1923, 3 years after Haribo was created.
[QUOTE=DrogenViech;42542833]Wait, we actually call them 'Riegel' because of his middle name? the more you know :v:
Also, how well known/unknown is haribo outside of germany? Please don't rate me dumb, i'm just curious :c[/QUOTE]
Every country with Aldi stores.
Is he getting cremated?
[video=youtube;MUensqImzXM]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MUensqImzXM[/video]
Gummies are my favourite candy ever. So this is indeed very sad to hear.
Haribo golden bears are my favourite candy ever, god it's so good. It's been atleast a month since I had some, gotta pick some up!
[QUOTE=DrDevil;42542598]In Germany, chocolate bars also are named after him. "Schoko-Riegel"[/QUOTE]
these are also super fucking delicious
[QUOTE=Psycho9182;42546855]Is he getting cremated?
[video=youtube;MUensqImzXM]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MUensqImzXM[/video][/QUOTE]
I prefer this version
[video=youtube;xbDEBczCoyE]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbDEBczCoyE[/video]
Fuck that, THIS [img]http://parthenonfoods.com/images/HariboTwinCherries5oz.jpg?scrlybrkr=57ba5c82[/img] is the best thing Haribo has done. I have a strong addiction to it.
The little gummy cola bottles will forever be my favorite candy.
Pour one out for ones homies.
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