I've featured some stupid shit in this recurring feature. A pink Phillies yoga mat. Spray paint lawn logo. Infield dirt sold at a considerable mark up. The ridiculous mega ticket. But never has there been an item like this.
The Mansie. A onesie, but for a fully grown man. Onesies are good for infants because they need to be changed a lot, and the design allows for easy access to the diaper. And the onesie can be easily taken off and put on a baby who has spit up or something like that. Of course, adults are fully independent beings who don't wear diapers, can use the bathroom themselves, and don't need to be changed due to routine self vomiting. So, you know, the Mansie seems pretty fucking stupid for a grown man to wear. I mean, I understand the need for comfort. I have three pairs of fleece lined leggings that I wear all the time when I'm at home. But those have the distinct advantage of not making me look like an oversized baby. Or an idiot. Or someone with a weird baby fetish. Oh, God, someone pass the brain bleach.
The Mansie is a simple "garment." Think of a shapeless shirt and a pair of shapeless pants magically joined together at the waistline. It's made with red microfleece fabric, which has been printed with the Phillies logo. There is a zipper up the front that starts in the mid-crotchal region and goes all the way up to the neck. The crotch of the bodysuit is oddly low, which probably makes it hard to walk in, but also looks sort of like really lame Hammer pants. I'm guessing they have to do that since standard sizing (S/M/L/XL/2XL) doesn't take into account the many differences in how human beings are shaped. Why sell something if you have to make it look stupid in order for it to work for the most number of people? That's apparently a question no one asked themselves while putting together the design for this product. The sleeves have openings while the feet do not -- there are footies that cover your feet, because you're apparently too lazy to put on socks. And pants. And a shirt. They guy in the picture is holding a football and doing a football player pose, because the merchandiser apparently wants you to think that playing football is something that you'd do while wearing this. The footies and low crotch really lend themselves to being athletically active, and in no way would cause you to slip or trip and fall down on your fleece covered ass.
The Mansie. I feel like I'm in an episode of Seinfeld, except the Bro/Manssiere wasn't totally fucking stupid. I can think of literally thousands and thousands of better things you could spend $50 on. A cheap root canal from an unlicensed dentist? Better than the Mansie.
So who should you buy this for? Mr. Douchey Douchenstien. When you got it for him, he thought it was "Totally rad, bro, thanks mucho." He wore it to bed a few times, but he really preferred his silk boxers. While the mansie did help his foot and body lotion absorb into his skin better, the zipper up the front really cramped his style with lady-bros. It stayed crammed into a drawer until a few months later, when he got a huge promotion at work. He invited all his dudebros (and you, for some reason) over for a night of drinking and debauchery, and he ended up wearing the mansie to help him stay comfortable during the Philly Sports Power Hour. (Which is a totally awesome real thing, by the way.) Things took a turn later that night when everyone was in the "philosophical" stage of drunkenness and his friend Cameron started flapping his yap. "Dude, you have a lot of responsibility now. I mean, like, a lot. You control a whole department. That's like, 50 jobs. If someone fucks up, you control, like, their fate, dude. And if you fuck up, they could all get fired. You hold all of them in your hands. Like that song. HE'S GOT THE WHOOOOOLE PUBLISHING DEPARTMENT, IN HIS HANDS! HE'S GOT THE WHOOOOOLE PUBLISHING DEPARTMENT, IN HIS HANDS!" He would have joined his friends in throwing empty bottles at Cam's head, but he was too busy having a nervous breakdown. He didn't get out of the mansie for three days, even when his mother came over to do his laundry and clean his house. When he went back to work as the new head of the publishing department, he freaked the first time anyone asked him a question, feeling naked without the fleece bodysuit enveloping him like a hug from a non-lethal polar bear. He rushed back home and put his mansie on over his Affliction suit. He started folding it up and taking it to work in his messenger bag, not able to be apart from it, needing to feel the soft polyester fleece underneath his fingers...and brushing against his cheek... and other areas. He put it on in his office after hours when he had to get important work done, but he couldn't stop there. He started wearing it during his lunch hour, and then to help psych himself up before big meetings. When the CEO came around for review meetings, he knew what he had to do. He marched into the conference room with his head held high, swathed in Phillies fleece, his shoes on over the footies. His presentation began with "Good afternoon, sir" and ended with "LET GO OF ME YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I NEED TO WEAR IT WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME NOOOOOO..."