I was discussing the Muppets with a friend, and we settled on the subject of Beaker. My friend said that no one needs his tummy rubbed more than that guy. I never really thought about it, but it’s so true. Beaker is the epitome of stress. I’d further posit that he needs to get laid. I’ve never seen anyone so tightly coiled in my life.
I think we all should chip in and send Beaker on a spiritual retreat/spa experience. He needs a massage. He needs gentle yoga, meditation, and a deep cleansing facial. He needs to soak in a hot tub. Get that man a mantra. Something other than meemeemeemomo.
I find the Beakers of this world very hard to be around. The tension just rolls off them in waves. Feeling all that unnecessary negative energy in the air gets my nerves jangling.
In truth, worry gets you nowhere. If you stop worrying, what changes? Absolutely nothing, except you’re healthier, happier, and the people around you stop heading for the nearest exit.
So if you run into a Beaker, give him a hug. Tell him everything’s going to be all right. Just breathe.
The View from a Drawbridge 
I totally agree but now I’M worried… if I hug beaker he’ll crack…he’s made of glass isn’t he? And if he cracks I’ll get cut, bleed and if I bleed…deep breaths…deep breaths…time for some aromatherapy 🙂
Deep cleansing breaths…
he needs Quaaludes… HA!
Given his zero body fat, he’d probably go into a coma.
good point
This was funny…unless you knew someone who slipped into a coma and died from Quaalude’s.
Oh wow. Now I feel horrible.