Oh, This? It’s Just A Marmot-Brand Sleeping Bag, And It’s Worth More Than Some Parts Of Your House

I hate poor people. And it’s not because they smell bad and are really, really ugly.

The thing I hate about poor people is the fact that they will never once experience the decadent texture of a Marmot sleeping bag. If even for a moment they could just brush their non-money-handling sausage fingers along the outer polyester pelt, the gravity of that experience alone would provide them with the burning drive to garner enough wealth to become a Marmot owner. But alas, Marmot owners are smart enough to never plop their sack down where poor people will be within reach. It’s like they always say: Marmot people get Marmot-ier, and the poor get less Marmot-ier.

Is it wrong that I envelop myself in the luxury of a sleep sack that can keep me alive at temperatures as low as 40°F, while there are people out there barely scraping along using bags made of rat skins glued together with the sticky stuff that comes out of rats when you skin them? Absolutely not. I earned this Marmot bag. By having a birthday so I could get it as a gift from my parents. Enjoy your rat-bag, you poor sack of crap that nobody loves enough to buy you nice things! I’ll just be over here, wrapped in the rich, robust lovin’ that the Marmot exudes, praying that one day, maybe, poor people will see the error of their ways and become rich enough to afford Marmot merchandise.