Sunday, December 29, 2013
Or "the Future of Relationships, brought to you by Electronics."
Gee, I wonder what went wrong with their relationship? It wasn't that they didn't have fun together- hell, they are going to amusement parks and ROME for chrissakes. So we can cross that out.
Was it the stalking? This guy seems to know where his girlfriend (excuse me, "travel buddy"- gag-) was at every moment of every date (and maybe when she wasn't on a date with him....hmm....) I can see that getting old, fast. Like, right away. I can even see the "hey I was just worried about you" bit not quite smoothing things over.
Was it the Being An Annoying, Hovering Dickwad? This guy isn't satisfied poking his girl awake for no obvious reason- he has to catch himself doing it, and her reaction, on video which I'm going to just go ahead and assume he posted on YouTube fifteen seconds later. I can see this being a sore point in any relationship- "hey, honey? Why didn't you just let me sleep? Or if you needed to wake me up, why did you need to video it? Did you think this was endearing? Hint: It wasn't."
No, my guess is that it was the whole Total Lack of Communication thing. The "conversation" these people have is made up entirely of texts, links and videos. No talking. None. A few years ago, I would have criticized people for attempting to make up over the phone. Now I see how truly naive I was back then- discussions that once required face to face communication moved to being perfectly appropriate over the phone, and now don't require any emotional risk at all. Just text, cut and paste, link and stream your way to an understanding of What Went Wrong and What You'll Do To Fix It.
Not that she's any better- am I missing something, or does she actually consult a website to find pros and cons to taking him back? Meh, nothing surprises me anymore. Depresses me, yes. Surprises me, no.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
You know, over the past twenty years or so I've gotten very used to these commercials for Pillsbury Non-Food-in-a-Can products. I don't even blink when I see people at kitchen tables smiling appreciatively at mom when she sets down a basket of this awful junk as if she actually put in the time to make it from scratch- no, not even when we see two alleged adults argue over who gets the last greasy, fat-infused chemical--err, crescent roll- on the table.
It doesn't bug me one bit to watch people who seem to be reasonably prosperous demonstrating absolutely zero taste or common sense as they happily shovel this cheap poison down their cake holes. Heck, these are probably the same people who just love it when mom dishes up the Kraft mac'n cheese and Hamburger Helper and Shake'n bake and Manwiches and canned ravioli. Like I said, zero taste and less common sense.
But please, enough with these commercials showing me people playing with this particular non-food product called "Grands." It's not a toy, is it? If the answer is "no," please, please stop it with the "look how fun it is to tear it apart" and wave it around before sticking it in your mouth" crap.
Or maybe I've been wrong all these years, and it IS a toy? It would certainly do less harm if it was marketed as a bakeable form of Play-Doh or Silly Putty. Just put a disclaimer on the can- "Do Not Ingest."
Friday, December 27, 2013
I can't be the only person who watched this commercial and just kept thinking over and over again "this is just so very wrong...."
For the convenience of douchenozzle humans, now we can trick birds into living their entire freaking lives for our entertainment? And is this in any way good for the birds- don't they kind of need darkness on a regular schedule? I don't own fish, but I know from talking to the very strange people who seem to like them that aquariums are supposed to include objects that allow the little things to hide from the prying eyes of their captors from time to time. I've been told this is true of other animals, too- zookeepers don't force animals to spend every hour the place is open on display, and provide caves, holes etc. for the poor things to take a break from the gawking gaze of idiot The World Was Fashioned For Us homo sapiens.
Maybe birds are different but, geeesh....
It's bad enough that we often play Mad Scientist with nature, breeding dogs with hip problems because we like them to look Just So and after all, they exist for our pleasure and only our pleasure anyway, right? But it's worse when we expect wild animals to eat, breathe, mate and die under the magnifying glass of our overbearing cluelessness and monstrous sense of entitlement. To paraphrase Frank Zappa, "I'm not a bird, but there sure are times when I wish I could say I wasn't a human."
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
(Author's Note: If I totally misunderstood this little nugget of self-congratulatory rubbish from Apple, don't feel the need to point that out to me. I like my interpretation as is....)
"My whole family thinks I'm a morose, whiny little techno-addled loner. I mean, I guess I can't blame them- I'm constantly avoiding human interaction so I can spend time with my electronic buddy, and I make it very clear that I'd much rather watch something I just downloaded to my phone than to actually talk to any of them. Whenever I am forced to attend a family function, I walk around with my chin in my chest and a 'I'm a sullen, misunderstood artist type' look on my face, and I don't try to hide the fact that I'm totally addicted to that glowing thing that might as well be surgically attached to my hand. I have no sense of courtesy or respect or even gratitude because indulging in those emotions means I would have to stop being an isolated dickwad for a few minutes. Hell, I'm not even going to wash my hair now and then, because that's just not who I am.
But I'll show them- over the past week, while they were thinking I was just doing my usual 'fuck off and leave me alone carbon-based life forms, you are the assholes who need therapy, not me' bit, I was actually making a video that the whole family could share. That ought to shut them up for a while, and heck maybe it will even get me an upgrade on this lame-ass phone they got me on my birthday, six months ago.
And now that this whole sharing thing is over, maybe they'll leave me alone so I can back to posting pointless crap for my 369 friends on Facebook (367 of whom I've never met in person.) First thing I'm going to do is make a video about how painful it was to devote so damn much time to my idiot family. But we artists- we must suffer for our art, mustn't we?"
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
I spent more than a minute watching this and all the time, I thought for sure I was going to see an "ONLY KIDDING" disclaimer followed by a "tired of buying stupid junk that seemed like a good idea at 2 AM but now just clutters up your basement because there's no way you would actually give it to someone or admit that you even own one?" tagline.
But it never happened. This is a real, purchasable item that you can buy for $10 plus shipping and handling (and, of course, you can get TWO for the price of ONE just pay extra shipping and handling) and it will be sent right to your door where you'll open it, look at it, figure out how the batteries go in it, make sure it works, and then look at it some more and wonder why on Earth you thought you would actually want this just because a group of really really bad actors on television were so delighted with it for a minute and a half during a commercial.
Oh wait, maybe it's because parrots are "America's most popular bird." Yeah, but little plastic parrots aren't. Maybe it's because actual parrots take a lot of work and expense? Well, ok- but I don't want the hassle of a real animal living in my house either; that doesn't mean I want a plastic fake animal reacting to my movements by whistling at me instead. Just because I don't want the mess and expense of a real parrot doesn't mean I want to be mocked by every friend who pops into my house and then leaves wondering if I've become a senile lunatic with absolutely no taste at all.
And it gets worse. Some people would actually buy a CAGE for this thing? Um, what the heck is the point of that? Maybe it's like the parrot in the coal mine thing- if you visit grandma and she's lining the cage her Perfect Polly "lives" in, it's time to get grandma into an assisted living situation.
(BTW, I don't normally look at the comments under the YouTube videos I embed for this blog, but some of the snark for this commercial is just priceless. Here are my favorites:
"I'm ordering a PERFECT KITTY to eat it."
"Grandma still hasn't figured out Polly isn't really alive."
"You bought a fake bird a cage."
And best of all- "Meanwhile, on the Forever Alone Shopping Network...."
And what IS IT with the Lone Ranger music? Who the heck thought THAT fit?)
Monday, December 23, 2013
The only way this awful pile of dumb ends in a way which is at all satisfying to the viewer is for the guy here to get up and just move out on his disgustingly passive-aggressive girlfriend (who, by the way, apparently spent an enormous amount of time finding just the right clips to express what she feels but is unwilling to say.)
Of course, this doesn't happen- instead he goes along with this Worse Than The Silent Treatment Because at Least With the Silent Treatment You Can Just Think About That Not-Insane Woman You Used to Date- and even joins in with her sick not-communicative way of communicating.
She isn't even all that good-looking. Why put up with this crap?
Oh and BTW, wasn't this already done two freaking years ago, with a married woman actually changing her Facebook status to "single" because over a fight and then forgiving her big dope of a husband (who, again, should just dump her pathetic butt) thirty seconds later when he scrolls to Just the Right Movie on their playlist? So we are just recycling really awful ideas here?
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Because when it's time to gather 'round with the family to enjoy the warmth of the holiday season, what could be more fitting than 8-plus hours of child neglect, child endangerment, and people being burned, stabbed, impaled, concussed, blinded, and humiliated in a thousand other different ways....
I think I'd rather watch Clark Griswold nail his thumb to the roof (before falling off of it,) get knocked unconscious by the attic door and almost kill his family with rock-stupid driving than spend five minutes with Look How Much Fun It Is To Almost Die Over and Over Again. Hell, I'd rather watch an afternoon of Stream Clean commercials than even one of the Home Alone films.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Ok, the squigginess of this commercial has been done to death- everyone and their little brother has pointed out that this guy seems to be trying to form the same relationship with the little girl that he has with the mom, that the little girl is being paid off to accept Boyfriend as the New Man in Mom's Life, etc. etc. I don't really have any more to add to that particular storyline that hasn't been said on YouTube and other blogs, and I'm not so desperate for material that I'm willing to just repeat the opinion of pretty much everyone who has seen this ad, so....
I think instead I'll focus on the weird design Jane Seymour tells us that she came up with for her jewelry. It's not that it's pretty boring and unimaginative- it's that it shows up so many times I think that it's trying to subliminally burn itself into my brain. Look, there it is in the box. Look, Mommy's wearing one. Look, Dr. Quinn is wearing one- and LOOK, she's got a freaking FRAMED PAINTING OF IT ON HER DESK! Is this a piece of jewelry, or the membership key to a forbidden palace (or, at least, very exclusive club) somewhere?
Ok, that wasn't as interesting a take as I thought it would be. So...umm.....doesn't it look like Mommy's New Boyfriend is trying to hook up with that little girl? Man, that's weird.
"I don't understand....every time I turn around, this stupid commercial is playing on my television screen..."
"Which means that roughly 200 times per NFL game, I get to watch this insipid, ugly jerk stand at the door of his basement, contemplating a life in which he not only owns a house, but has no trouble filling it with attractive people every Sunday afternoon....attractive, fun-loving people who apparently consume a lot of beer, since he's going down to the basement to fetch more several times a game...."
"Which means that this guy's life is much, much better than mine, despite the fact that he doesn't approach me in the looks department, and as for taste...well, jeesh, he keeps a basement full of Bud Lite...."
"Which means that I, too, have cracked the code. God Hates Me."
Friday, December 20, 2013
That first guy- ugh, seriously?
And LoanMax lends money with car titles as collateral- even when the car has a "major repair job" that needs to get done? Hmm, sounds pretty good- for people whose credit is so firmly in the toilet that they can't get a credit card or a bank loan. Cripes, why do I get the feeling that every stick of furniture and every electronic device these people possess has a Rent-a-Center label on it?
"I got me some money." Oh no-- he didn't actually say that. LoanMax didn't actually get a black wannabee actor to say that, did they? Sigh.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Ok, I get that "you can't put a couch in a washing machine"- but you CAN put blankets and sheets in a washing machine, Insane Woman With a Can of Lysol. I get the impression here that you've just decided to replace actually doing laundry with just constantly spraying dirty things with this stuff.
Which means that you've gone completely insane- so completely insane, in fact, that you haven't even noticed that the "family" you mention is long gone- they obviously got sick of the nauseating smell of Lysol hovering over everything, not to mention living in a house full of dirty, sticky clothes damp with liquid germ killer. Clearly Lysol is not kind to brain cells.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Never mind a deep analysis of this ad's obvious message- "we are taking note of our critics and are only too happy to come after you if we don't like what you say," let's just take a closer look at the disgusting, pasty douchenozzles who actually took the time to stop sucking their thumbs and bitch about a service which would have seemed utterly miraculous less than twenty years ago:
"Did you say 'my internet is so bad that it's giving my kids psychological problems?"
When Steve acknowledges that, yes, he admitted that his kids are so fucking shallow that less than stellar internet service is causing them deep emotional, life changing distress (or that HE is so fucking shallow that he thinks "Despicable Me 2 isn't streaming fast enough" equals "psychological distress") he's naturally treated to an upgrade. Because the Dumbest Wheel gets the grease, after all.
"My internet is so slow it would be faster to look things up in the library?" Did you post this?
Umm, when was the last time you were at a library? When was the last thing you looked up other than the location of the nearest 24-hour Little Caesar's? Are you actually trying to convince me that you are doing research in something you wouldn't mind your neighbors finding out about?
"My internet is so slow it's like a car without gas."
Did you post this, Lindsay S? You did? Well, lady, a poet you are NOT. You are aware, of course, that a car without gas isn't slow, it's stationary, right? I mean, did you put any thought into your comment at all?
A few more honest visits like this, and these moron jackanapes will shut their whineholes and just accept the fact that not having Everything Right Now isn't the absolute worst thing in the world. At least, we can hope.
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Seriously, the trepidation- no make that downright Fear- in this woman's voice is simply frightening. And then add in the panicky, "oh god let's not have another Christmas with Cigarette Burns All Around like last year, Someday Mommy will take you kids someplace safe but for now, Daddy is Daddy and we just want peace, ok?" dialogue and we are left with absolutely nothing funny here.
"We only have four hours to find Daddy a present and he's gotta have the best..." Four hours? In a mall which looks like it has about a hundred shops but only a few dozen people actually doing any shopping? Why do I get the feeling that every other present this woman has bought her husband has been a Nice Try Honey But Not Quite Good Enough I Guess You Don't Love Me As Much As I Love You failure?
"I need you to be a rock..." this woman is quite literally freaking out- and is begging her six-year old daughter to be Strong For Mommy during this Terrifying Time. Again- there's nothing funny here. It's really just sad and I'm sure there's an abuse hotline this woman really needs to become acquainted with. Nobody should live like this, Mommy- but just because you are willing to tolerate Life on the Razor's Edge, doesn't mean you get to project your terror on to those poor kids.
Mommy looks so relieved when she sees that she can buy Daddy a cell phone (he doesn't already have one? Hmmm....) So, she's done already and the next four hours can be spent doing something nice and relaxing with the kids?
No, I actually kind of doubt it. More likely, the cell phone koisk is just the first stop in what will be a long, painful voyage which takes this family from one upscale shop to another, running up a big Visa bill purchasing gloves, a scarf, a leather jacket, a new electric razor, and don't forget what happened the last time you came home without Daddy's favorite Tequila, Mommy. All purchased with the dim hope that maybe, just maybe, Daddy will like his gifts enough to respond with something other than cutting put-downs or angry rants which end with Mommy applying ice to her face as she explains to the kids that Daddy Just Doesn't Feel Very Well Today So We Should Be Extra Quiet and He Really Loves Us Very Much You Know That's Why We Have This Beautiful House We Should All Be Grateful For All He Does For Us.
I know you would never consider this, Mommy- but you can do a lot with a four-hour head start. Again, there are 800-numbers out there, the moment you are ready to draw the line and take a step toward a sane, happy life for you and your children. I don't know anything else about you, but I know you deserve better- because everyone does. Good luck.
I swear this commercial showed up no less than 1200 times during two NFL games last Sunday. And it just got more cloying and banal and just plain dumb and pointless with each airing. By halftime of the second game, I had it memorized, and had gone from wanting the Judgmental Seriously Who Asked Your Opinion Old Man to just waddle outside and die in a snowbank to actually being on his side and reminding The Boyfriend that he's a guest in someone's home and not on his own couch in his own apartment.
I mean, come on. Come up for air, people Lady? It's a freaking watch. Get over it.
At the same time- Stupid Old Man? Your ass isn't nailed to that chair, is it? How about stretching your legs for a bit? Better yet- instead of bitching about toys that need batteries (how old is this guy? Most of the toys I got when I was a kid needed batteries, and I bet his did, too. Jesus is he going to start waving his cane around and shaking his fist at clouds next?) how about playing with your grandkids? Trust me, the young couple that is just trying to share a moment won't miss you and your running commentary one damned bit.
Oh, and "looks like we got a man here?" Um, why- because he didn't get your (daughter? Granddaughter?) a toy or cell phone or computer for Christmas? What exactly is superior about a piece of jewelry? What the hell is the matter with you?
Oh wait, I forgot. No more running commentary, please. I believe there's still a snowbank out there with your name on it.
Saturday, December 14, 2013
This wasn't funny last year. Why do you insist on acting like a six year old in possession of one joke that he insists on telling his parent's friends over and over again?
When I see a very fat guy with a white beard, I might think "hmm, he looks like Santa Claus." I don't think he IS Santa Claus, and there's absolutely nothing he could do to convince me that he IS Santa Claus. Because I'm an adult, and all that.
Actually, if I walked into a Chevy Dealership ( what are the odds? Not good) and saw this guy selling cars, the first thing I'd think would be "I can't believe that Chevy believes that if they hire guys who look like Santa Claus to push their crap, people will be more likely to buy. Adults are NOT that stupid."
Then again, check out this woman, who for the sake of a really bad pun calls a salesman a "Saint" for....offering to help her pick out a car and earn him a commission. They don't make Saints the way they used to, I guess- last time I checked, helping a customer pick out a car was kind of expected from car salesmen and didn't require a huge heart (or stomach, or beard.)
Friday, December 13, 2013
1. Passengers can't tell if a car "handles nicely." So shut up, stupid passenger with nothing intelligent to say. Why are you even talking at all? Shouldn't you be staring at your phone? That's what I see every passenger on the road doing, all the time, anyway (and way too many drivers, too.)
2. This guy put an entire pool together and had it filled with 17,000 gallons of water- but didn't use any nuts? And it held water for any length of time?
3. Wouldn't it be funny if the kid in the pool got seriously hurt because his dad is a moron? No? Then why did you think it was at all funny when the pool collapsed? Because in real life, that probably means the kid gets hurt, you hypocrite.
4. Once again, how do the two people in the car manage to come up with exactly the same mental image?
5. When the driver says "that would be like using nuts OR bolts" shouldn't the passenger reply "ok, forget it, I was just trying to make small talk. Doesn't this thing have a fricking stereo system?"
Thursday, December 12, 2013
One rich douchenozzle after another gets a glance at a new Audi, thinks about it for roughly three seconds, and then drops the keys to what we KNOW is a perfectly good (and almost certainly luxury) car into the Salvation Army donation bucket.
Look, I know this is just a commercial. But is this disturbingly sick or what? We are supposed to believe that not only are these jagoffs so rich that they can make a snap decision to buy an Audi, but that they don't even need the freaking trade-in value on their current car to get one.
Oh, and weird Elf Donation Girl? You and me both. I am seriously going to need a bigger bucket.
God, I hate this time of year.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
What if you could take rare, expensive diamonds and make them look like the plastic costume jewelry you can get out of a gumball machine?
Personally? If I were a guy willing to spend a thousand dollars or more on a rock for some girl, and that girl said she wanted that diamond to be bright pink or blue or green, I'd be more than a little irritated. I'm pretty sure my first thought would be "um, if you are going to wear something that looks like Junk, then why don't I just BUY junk and save a lot of money? Hey, I'm just asking, honey!"
What's next? This is like putting Golden Arches on a high-scale restaurant- "sure, it LOOKS cheap, but wait 'till you see how much the entrees cost!" Or maybe Lexus will offer a model with built-in dents and scratches, with no reduction in cost. Hey, check out this $2 mil condo- it's in a great neighborhood and comes with real hardwood floors and a gorgeous spiral staircase-- the washing machines are in the basement, and take quarters.
Seriously, this is just nuts. I can just see people wearing these cheap-looking things and spending all their time "casually" mentioning to passer-bys that "sure, they LOOK like something an eight-year old would find in a Cracker Jack Box, but they are real and cost big bucks! I swear!"
Monday, December 9, 2013
Back in 1972, a little movie called The Poseidon Adventure launched the first Disaster Film Era. Over the rest of the decade, Hollywood dished out a seemingly endless series of mostly-bad films depicting B-actors finding themselves in Really Terrible Predicaments featuring tidal waves, volcanoes, meteors, fire, killer insects and amphibians- I was pretty sure that by the time the whole thing wound down around 1980 they hadn't left a single possible disaster scenario unexplored. Some of them had big budgets- there were the four Airport films. The Towering Inferno (that one had Paul Newman AND O.J. Simpson.) Meteor (which bankrupted a studio and almost ended Sean Connery's career.) Then there were the Direct-To-The-Drive-In low-budget Let's Make Ed Wood Proud features like The Killer Bees and The Frogs (I actually saw that one- the only scenes I remember were the ones with the guy being eaten by leeches and the end with the frogs riding on the record player. That was fun.)
According to my friend over at the Haphazardstuff.com blog, the release of the original (and by far the best) spoof film, Airplane! in 1980 pretty much nailed the coffin on an idea which had been worn threadbare anyway, and the first Disaster Film Era came to an unsung end. The 80s were dominated by Star Wars and Indiana Jones and Back to the Future, and our optimism didn't leave any room for screaming, desperate, frightened idiots trying to escape impending doom (unless the impending doom was in the form of a guy with a big knife wearing a hockey mask.)
In the 90s we had a mini-revival of the Disaster Film craze with Twister (if you've never seen it, you must not own a TV, because with the possible exception of Ferris Bueller's Day Off, I don't think any film has been rebroadcast as often) Armageddon, Deep Impact (despite the aforementioned failure of Meteor, Hollywood seemed pretty convinced that there was an appetite for Big Rocks Falling from Space to kill us story lines,) Volcano, Dante's Peak (which should have convinced the Broccolis to stick with Dalton. Idiots.) And of course the ultimate disaster flick, the most overrated film of all time, Titanic.*
More recently, we've had a Poseidon remake. Let's just forget that one, shall we?
Well, maybe my readers won't believe this, but more than a decade ago, while watching Gladiator and wondering how many togas-and-sandals imitators it would spawn, I found myself also wondering why Hollywood hadn't recreated the story of Pompeii since around the silent era. Maybe it was considered during the first two Disaster Eras and rejected as too pricey? So the only thing I find surprising about the impending release of Pompeii is what took so long. Sure, Showtime gave us Spartacus: Sweat, Sex and Sandals (ok, I don't really know what each season is called, I just know the show lasted longer than the actual slave rebellion) and HBO the superior Rome, but the story of the Big Volcano that Blew Up and Gave Us an Awesomely Preserved Tourist Attraction seemed like a lost opportunity at the time.
But here it is. I'm sure it's going to be awful- but that's fine, as long as it doesn't lead to another Disaster Film Era. I think the next Batman film will be more than enough disaster for this decade.
*Rose killed Jack. She had multiple opportunities to just get on one of the lifeboats, and each time she refused so she could continue to be a millstone around Jack's neck. If she had just left him to take care of himself and not have to worry about saving her helpless butt every few minutes, he would have been on that raft by himself and they would have met up with the other survivors at the end. Idiot.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
1. Why is Jim so determined to use only one dryer for all of his clothes? It's clear that there are plenty of dryers that are not being used all around the one he is trying to break. And it's not to save money, because we are told it took "16 hours to dry all his clothes," and "his hoodie was still a little damp" even then.
2. Is Jim really eating pizza in a laundromat? Yeah, there's nothing like the smell of soap, bleach and dirty socks to get your appetite cranked up, huh, Jim?
3. Is Jim really going to be handling his finally sort-of-dry laundry with hands that just spent fifteen minutes delivering pizza to his face? Jim isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, is he?
Saturday, December 7, 2013
"Honey, what are you doing?"
"Acting like a moron. I am a Male, after all, and this IS a television commercial. What are YOU doing?"
"Emasculating you for no particularly good reason. I am a Female, after all, and this IS a television commercial."
Glad to see that everything is in its place, even in a Black Friday ad.
This creepy mannequins in this commercial are chirping at us that the way to make the holidays a little brighter is to take out a loan on your car title and then use that money to buy stuff. While an even creepier elf-thing does a drunk little dance in the background (I don't know what that is about at all.)
If you don't have much money- here's an idea! Just put your car up as collateral, get yourself some extra money, and spend it on stuff you don't really need! I mean, your car is just sitting there, and people you know are expecting things under the tree- what are you waiting for?
Because this makes a lot more sense than just living within your freaking means, and rejecting the Buy Buy Buy message being force-fed to society every November through February (Thanksgiving to Valentine's Day has become 90-day orgy of excess, hasn't it?) Hey, do blood banks still pay for plasma donations?
Friday, December 6, 2013
Somewhere buried in this mess is kind of a nice message- "life isn't perfect." Of course, we who do not live in TV land didn't really need to be reminded of this, but since 99.9 percent of car commercials show Pretty Perfect People living Pretty Perfect Lives in their Pretty Perfect Houses and Pretty Perfect Cars, it's not a bad thing to have this acknowledged in what I eventually figured out was an ad for Chevy Malibu.
The problem is, the nice message really is buried in a mess which SEEMS to be a CELL PHONE commercial. We see this stupid, ugly moron staring at his stupid phone, explaining to us how much "we" enjoy capturing- and think it's very very important to capture- every freaking moment of the lives of his children. And not just capture, but post. He worries that "we" edit too much- we only show the "good" stuff- and in doing so send a false message. In other words, this idiot thinks that people only believe what they see on Facebook- if all we witness is the fun, we'll think that all his family is doing is having fun.
Odd- I don't think this way. If I thought that everyone on Facebook was only living the lives I saw on Facebook, I'd be so damned depressed I'd just have to stop looking at it. This guy looks like he's too old to have grown up with Facebook- does he think that photo albums tell unadulterated truth? And does he really believe that people who "edit too much" are the problem? Personally, I think that people don't edit anywhere near enough- the stuff they think I'm interested in (I really need to see another picture of your three-week old kid, the one you posted four hours ago is out of date) never ceases to astonish (read: bore) me...
Even more odd is the way he suggests that "we" fix this "problem" (seriously, this guy thinks too much about nothing and has way too much time on his hands.) He muses that maybe we ought to just post everything- good lord, including his little kids dealing with lice (I'm not kidding- congratulations, dad, those kids will never stop hating you, ever) and Junior's Little Car Accident (why does anyone else need to know this happened? Why would anyone else- let alone EVERYONE else- care?)
Does the word "privacy" mean anything at all to this clod? "Look, my kids have lice! Look, my kid damaged the car!* Look, my kid wet the bed (ok, we don't actually see this, but it connects logically, doesn't it?")
Oh, and remember- this is a Chevy Malibu commercial. Not a cell phone commercial, not a Facebook commercial. Remember I used the word "mess" earlier?
PS- "Somewhere between that trip to Paris and that 6-week Juice Cleanse." Oh seriously, fuck off you privileged, clueless one-percenter dickwad.
*The kid makes it very clear that he doesn't want his accident put on the internet. Parent's response-"who cares what you want? We are living an uncensored, unedited life! Online it goes!"
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
This commercial for Google Nexus 7 Whatever isn't horrible- in fact, compared to most of the hideous dreck out there, it's almost good. Father* playing with son in the woods- ok, that's sweet, not bad. I especially like where they catch a frog and then look it up on the internet- maybe the first-ever use of a cell phone in an ad that I can actually understand and approve of. Good for you, Dad- taking advantage of a learning moment. I would have just taken a photo and saved the research for later, but that's me- no big problem with your decision to do it right away, you've got that phone glued to your hand anyway.
Just a few questions-
1. Why does Dad feel the need to play Jurassic Park (or Walking with Dinosaurs, whatever that is) on his phone while his son is looking at actual wildlife? The way he shrugs when Son notices him- is he admitting that hey, I'm bored with spending time with you, kid, and thought I'd just watch a movie? Is Dad playing a little joke on his son- like "I'm going to hold this up and my kid will have exactly the right magnification and catch the phone screen at just the right angle so he'll think that there are actually dinosaurs in the backyard- and then he'll realize there aren't and he'll either think I'm funny or just a dick?" Or is he quietly admitting that "hey, frogs are nice and all but CGI dinosaurs are much better- actually, the creatures we can observe and catch out here are pretty damned lame compared to these CGI dinosaurs, aren't they son?"
2. Turns out these guys are in the backyard- so why didn't dad run in to get his son a bandage when he picked up the bruise? Was he afraid that this might throw off the whole "great outdoors" experience? Umm....I really think that the constant use of your little electronic toy is doing that already, Dad....
3. This father and son are out under the stars, with a campfire- and they still need to watch cartoons and play electronic checkers? Really? How about just talking to each other? Is this so damned hard?
*After a few viewings, it began to occur to me that this commercial actually has "Mom's boyfriend trying to bond with her son" spewed all over it. There sure isn't a whole lot of natural warmth here.
Monday, December 2, 2013
Yes, if you've got yourself an ostentatious mansion in the 'burbs, a perfect family, and a massive, Look at Me I'm Better Than You SUV to drive them all around in, nothing makes you feel like you aren't quite going to hell like dropping off a few excess gifts at the local toy drive bin.
Hey, Eurotrash dickwad with a car that cost more than it takes to feed Nigeria for a year- if you think your head isn't going to end up on a pike just because you bought a few extra presents for Cody and Dillon so they could experience the Joy of Giving To Their Lessers (and the special joy of doing it in the most showy way imaginable, arriving in Dad's 11 MPG Gleaming Studmobile) you've got another think coming. You are still heading for the inferno, you pompous one-percent piece of feces.
Want to "give something back?" Start with that disgustingly unnecessary car of yours. Turn it in to the dealer, get your money back, buy something just as functional for half the cost, and give the difference to a soup kitchen. Hey, what a great message that would send your kids- Dad is willing to give up one of HIS toys, too! Yeah, that's going to happen.
Oh, and "Most Refined Brand?" Fuck off, Chrysler.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
But not literate, apparently. Because most people don't really need "road closed" explained to them.
In the real world, lady, this means that you and your privileged hubby and spawn turn your pretty SUV around and go right back down to the visitor's center. Or better yet, you park your fricking boat right there and start hiking up to "Glacier Point" (really, whatever.) In short, you get a little education in Just Because You Own This Car Doesn't Mean You Get To Go Everywhere In It, Douchenozzle.
"Keep up keep up keep up"-- yeah, because it's very, very important that you get the view from Glacier Point while sitting your pampered ass on the heated seat of your SUV (note that the kids are so interested in chasing a guy on a dog sled that they are both watching their own cartoons on their own in-seat DVD players. Jeesh...)
And naturally, it ends with these idiots wanting to be escorted to the next Off-Limits To Motor Vehicles Except Yours Of Course site. Ugh.
Here's how this commercial SHOULD end- turns out the "guide" is just a lunatic (after my own heart) who decides that since these disgusting idiots insist that "Road Closed" simply can NOT apply to them, he'll just take them up the dangerous mountain in their overpriced SuperCar and leave them there to die. And that's what happens- this lovely family freezes to death, their SUV serving as a lovely tomb trapped in a drift, tires spinning helplessly until the damn thing runs out of gas (well, how long could THAT take?) Because I am sick to death of reading about people like these choads being rescued from their own asshattery on my dime.
Or they are eaten by those dogs. Either way.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
1. Yes, "everybody knows that." Of course, what "everybody knows" is not that "fifteen minutes can save you fifteen percent." It's "everybody knows that's been Geico's motto since roughly the Polk Administration."
2. Why does this woman feel compelled to voice the vapid non-thought which popped into her brain when she saw the commercial? Is she showing off her reading skills? Like "check me out, I can comprehend what the screen says. Impressive, huh?"
3. If you are working out and you can carry on a conversation like this, you aren't working out. These women achieve a more rapid heartbeat sprawled on their couches, surfing their cable selection.
4. If you didn't know way in advance that the stupid tree falling in the stupid forest was going to say "little help?" you were either not paying attention, REALLY stupid, or a liar. Because wow, talk about an obvious line.
5. Is Geico even capable of producing a commercial which effectively sells it's product? Because there's no evidence of this that I have ever seen.
I guess the e-cigarette wins her approval because hey, it's not a vaccine. But anyway....
Maybe now that you've embraced a way to quit smoking, maybe you could break free of your apparent addiction to plastic surgery?
Seriously, woman. You are 41 years old. It's not a death sentence. Own it. Before you contain more plastic than the Barbie doll you are desperately trying to resemble.
(Oh, and BTW, congratulations on your success in quitting smoking. I'm told that it's an extremely difficult addiction to escape. However you actually managed to do it, good for you. Now please, just grow old gracefully already. And learn something about vaccines before you do any more harm, moron.)
Friday, November 29, 2013
It's not this particular commercial, which seems to feature entire families who are so stunted in their ability to show emotion that they think handing someone a deep-fried bird part is an acceptable alternative to using words (but seriously, just look at these weirdos- their whole lives seem to revolve around the ritualistic Sharing Of The Chicken. What the hell?)
It's not the implied message that Greasy Crap=Love. Because in a world where Cars=Love, Texts=Love, and Consumption in General=Love, this is pretty tame.
Nope, what has always bothered about me with KFC ads is the Magic Overflowing Bucket which appears in every single one. It doesn't matter if two people are sharing the chicken, or twenty. When you see a bucket of KFC, it's always bursting with over-sized legs, thighs and breasts. At one point in the commercial I embedded here, a leg is delicately lifted from a mountain of pieces which looks in real danger of collapsing under it's own weight. Anyone who has ever actually purchased a bucket of chicken from KFC knows that in real life, the bucket is maybe 2/3 full with a greasy white plastic lid shoved into it. The overflowing bucket is only possible if you take two buckets and try to shove them together into one. And that STILL won't get you the huge golden-brown plastic things you see in these ads- generally the fried chicken I've seen from this place is much smaller, darker and drier-looking.
Next time you find yourself watching one of these ads, note that there might be a dozen people sitting around, each one eating chicken- yet at the center of the room you'll see the bucket, still overflowing as if has yet to be touched. Like some mythical food-providing table cloth or cauldron from an ancient kid's story, except I'm not sure I would actually want to refer to KFC as "food."
However, there is one good thing that comes out of these KFC ads- they give me the opportunity to share one of my favorite scenes from one of my favorite films (skip to 1:16 to see it.) A bottomless bag of coffee- now THAT'S something I could really use!
Thursday, November 28, 2013
It's hardly surprising that the official version of this ad on YouTube not only forbids embedding, but even commenting. It's as if JC Penny KNOWS this is atrocious, disgusting garbage and simply doesn't want to hear about it or share it's shame.
So why did they even bother to put together an ad which features people literally begging to say goodbye to the family and giving thanks and all that crap and head off to the crowded mall and overworked, underpaid minions and shop shop shop shop shop, shop shop shop shop? Do they WANT us to hate them?
If so, mission accomplished. I'm cutting up my JC Penny card. And sharing this on my blog, well aware that the video will probably be yanked from YouTube before the end of the day because while Penny's wants to you get the message, they sure as hell don't want you to reflect on it, comment on it, or share it. Because they know that while they are revoltingly greedy, amoral dickwads, they also know that most of us aren't and will be repelled by this if we just think about it for more than a few seconds.
In the sequel to this stupid little nub of nothing, the fat doofus looking to buy a truck here comes back with his equally vapid, dumb-looking spawn and re-introduces himself to Jan, our favorite frozen-smile Toyota spokeschoad. I'll be sure to post that one when it pops up on YouTube, but because we all like to be reminded of the original before we catch Part II....
Fat Moron wants a car "to pull his boat." He lets us know very quickly that it's a Big boat. Hmmm...big truck. Big boat. Big gut. Big, stupid, flabby face. Everything about this guy seems to be big. Well, everything visible, anyway. Because check out his inability to admit to Jan that his boat is smaller than the freaking SPACE SHUTTLE. Yeah, that's one confident male you are working with, Jan.
Now we know that fatass drove off with a Toyota Tundra, because less than a year later he's going to be back to purchase a brand new one, ready to hand off the 2012 model to his son (no, seriously. I'm not kidding. I need to figure out a way to get this guy to adopt me, so I can get myself a free truck next November when the shiny 2015 models come out and this guy gets distracted by the glowing chrome again.) Are we supposed to relate to an obese douche who can just belly up to the counter at Toyota every 12 months and sign up for lease payments on a new truck? What planet am I on again?
And who the hell gives a kid a practically-new truck anyway? Oh wait- that's in the sequel. Got to save some snark for that one. Sorry.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Stereotype Nerd Name: Check.
Stereotype Everyone In Offices With Even a Rudimentary Knowledge of Computers is a fat, pasty, chinless geek: Check.
As for the rest- kind of makes you wonder why the average office desk jockey would feel the need to seek advice from Your Company's Computer Guy on a question so mundane as "where can I buy a tablet." So only Computer Guys notice the endless stream of commercials for tablets? Only Computer Guys know about this mysterious corporation called "Verizon?" What the hell?
Oh, and Pointlessly Obvious Geek is also Neurotic and Lacking in Basic Social Skills: Check. "Could you move your beverage away from the keyboard...." Beverage? "..it's making me Anxious." Anxious? Oh yeah, we get it- you are tech-savvy, which means you must be tech-paranoid, besides being incapable of talking to fellow carbon-based life forms without using stilted language. Sigh. Whatever.
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
The only way this commercial makes any sense at all is if we have finally reached the day I kind of thought we would get to within a few years anyway: The day where it's perfectly reasonable to believe that someone would "send like a hundred texts," get no response regardless of the urgency of the messages, yet never once actually use her phone to MAKE A PHONE CALL.
The woman in this ad fell off her bike and broke her arm, but still found it more convenient to text her boyfriend instead of calling him. She got to the hospital and texted him again. She needed a ride home, and texted him again. She just kept texting and texting. From the dialogue in this ad, it never even occurred to her to JUST STOP TEXTING AND DIAL HIS FREAKING NUMBER YOU BRAINLESS DUMBASS!!
Maybe they aren't the kind of "friends" who can actually talk on the phone. Seems kind of odd, if she was expecting him to rush to the hospital and give her a ride home. Plus, he calls her "baby." Maybe I just don't get Relationship Etiquette in 2013. That's plausible.
Still- "send like a hundred texts" and not a single actual call made? Oh wait- are there cell phones that don't have calling options anymore? No, no- I'm not that far behind the curve...am I?
And by the way, what kind of contract doesn't allow you to actually replace a broken phone? I thought all phone companies spent their time trying to get us to "upgrade" our perfectly GOOD phones- this guy is working with a company that won't LET him swap out a BROKEN one?
Seriously. What the hell?
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Before I get to Amy and the sad shipwreck that is her life, I just have to spend a moment snarking on the concept of a "Mayday Button" on the new Kindle Fire. I mean, jeeesh....I have an old-fashioned Kindle, with e-ink and no color. Doesn't sound familiar? It's for reading books. Still doesn't sound familiar? Sigh....
Anyway, my lame, black and white non-TV streaming Kindle doesn't have a Mayday button because it doesn't need one. What Kindle is telling me here is that their new version is so damned complicated, it has to include what is in effect a panic button that puts the owner in contact with a grinning zombie eager to guide you around your new little toy, You Clueless Dumbfuck Why Don't You Just Ask One Of Your Kids To Help You?
Ok, enough of whole "Mayday Button" thing- is Amy the Kindle Sprite related to the Magic State Farm Insurance Genie? Because if those ads are at all realistic, it means that there is an army of Eternally Happy to Be Of Service At A Moment's Notice women just waiting to be summoned by clueless morons who Need Help Right Now. Anyone else think that the instantaneous appearance of Amy is more than a little disturbing? What was she doing before this guy pushed that Mayday button? Staring at a blank screen, wishing some drooling moron would rub the Kindle in just the right way and summon her from her freaking bottle?
Come to think of it, Kindle and State Farm aren't the only commercials which sell the idea that there is an entire population of people out there just waiting to fly to our assistance whenever we are befuddled by anything for more than a few seconds. There are those Lincoln Concierge ads, where all one has to do is stare lustfully at a particular car to have someone magically materialize in front of you to explain how awesome it is an book a test drive. There's those spots for OnStar which feature disembodied voices thrilled to death to have the opportunity to book reservations and buy flowers for thoughtless moron buttmunches who are simply too busy to remember to do that shit for themselves. The message is pretty clear- if you've got money, you are a button-push away from getting some drone sitting in a cubicle to wipe your nose for you.
So my question is- who the hell are these people who respond to the pushing of buttons labeled "OnStar" or "Chat with an Agent" or "Mayday?" What happened in their lives to drive them to being handmaidens for loathsomely clueless fucktards who can't be bothered to read a manual (or a website) or anything else if hey, look, here's someone who will do it for me? Do they ever think about it? Do they dream of being on the other end of that button some day? Or are they just grateful to be picking up a paycheck?
Oh, and one more thing- come on, seriously. Amy- and all the other "click here to talk to someone right now" minions- live on the other side of the planet, right? Like in Pakistan? And they don't look at all like Amy, do they? Much darker and significantly less blonde? And there's nothing about their paycheck that justifies this level of giddiness- am I right?
There are several of these Best Buy "'twas the night before Christmas" ads.
They all feature "parents" congratulating themselves on buying something expensive for their kids.
And being appreciated by those kids, if only for a day.
They find this joyous. We are supposed to find this charming.
We are disgusted, and grossed out, and frankly very, very sad.
And then we realize that oh my god, they were actually rhyming this. And we remember fondly the times we half-watched, half-listened to these ads and didn't notice. Those times when these ads were just depressing, and just made us want to cry a little, and didn't fill us with rage at what has become of the season.
And I didn't even comment on the whole "Holy Grail" imagery.
I have to go lie down now.
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Oh, and why can't this guy just fall and break his stupid neck? Why don't I ever get anything I want?
There are a few things I've never understood about ads for BMW, Audi, Cadillac, Jaguar, or any of the other high-end car companies.
First- they always feature people who seem to be married (or at least, living together) buying each other these very expensive cars as holiday presents. When I was married, my wife and I had a joint checking account. All the money we made was deposited into that account. There was no "her money" and "my money," there was "our money." So when one of us bought something for the other, we were using OUR money to do it. I'd skip meals at work and find other ways to save to make sure I had enough money to buy her something very nice- but "very nice" never meant a freaking $40,000 car. If she had wanted a car, she would not have hinted at it like the child in this commercial does- she would have told me "hey, honey? WE need to replace my car. Let's figure out what WE can afford." She would not have dropped hints that I should find an extra several thousand dollars somewhere and buy her a toy with four wheels, because again- her money and my money was our money.
Second, who the hell can relate to these ads, anyway? White people living in suburban palaces (where are the perfect kids?) who would like it very much if they got a BMW in their stockings? I mean, come on- does this happen in real life, anywhere? Should I just be grateful that this isn't a Lexus December To Remember You Are Better commercial, and we don't actually see the Appropriately Not Clean-Shaven Guy being handed the keys to a car with a massive ribbon wrapped around it? Because I'm not, really (mainly because I know that's coming, very soon...)
Third, what kind of materialistic jagoff wants one of these cars anyway? Maybe they are supposed to tell the world "I've arrived, I'm successful, get out of my way while admiring me." All they say to me is "I'm shallow, I've got money burning a hole in my pocket, and my soul is so dark that this is all I can think of to do with that money in a world which is starving to death around me."
There's so much missing in this Dunkin Donuts Ad!
Where's the cursing? Were's the "Oh no you DID-n't?" Where's the word "bitch" used at least twenty times in thirty seconds?
Come on, Dunkin Donuts! If you are going to portray African American women as insecure, possessive, paranoid weirdos, and African American men as neutered puppies in mortal fear of them, why not go all Mamma's Family on us? Let's see some head-and-finger wagging, hip-swinging, nose-to-nose bug-eyed action here!
What's with this Brady Bunch-level, inoffensive bs? What are you afraid of? Come ON, Dunkin Donuts! Go there! You KNOW you want to!
Friday, November 22, 2013
1. Where are the guys? Oh wait- this commercial features parents supervising children. They aren't hauling bags of dirt around in pickup trucks or spraying weed killer on to lawns or using sledgehammers to "remodel" houses or grilling dead animal parts. Why would there be guys around?
2. "Own the Season." Yeah, that's nice. That would be the Season which starts right around the same time the Halloween candy goes on sale and ends around the time the Attached Among Us are reminded that we haven't given our Significant Other a piece of jewelry for a few months, so.....'tis the season to fill our carts with cheap crap from Walmart. And pretend we are doing something worthwhile and not just shoveling money into the bloated pockets of Sam Walton's evil spawn.
BTW, don't try to tell me you don't want to borrow a sledgehammer from one of those Guys and use it on the smug faces of these awful women. Because I won't believe you. Not for a moment.
Thursday, November 21, 2013
So I'm sitting here in front of my Toshiba Satellite Laptop Computer eating a Snickers Bar (Snickers Really Satisfies and besides, You're Not Yourself When You're Hungry) when I happen across this clip from a soap opera I've never actually seen in real life, really I haven't so stop suggesting that I'm a regular, ok? I haven't watched a soap on a regular basis since they pulled Natalie (or was it her evil twin?) out of that well on All My Children back in the early-90s. And I didn't even watch that show very often, so shut up.
Anyway, the very subtle Cheerios commercial embedded in this clip barely registered on the consciousness, don't you think? I mean, I sure wasn't hungry for the Toasted Whole Grain Oats after I saw it, though I did find myself craving a cup of coffee when it was over- maybe the wrong subliminal message came through? Or maybe I just don't have any Cheerios in the house?
I'll ponder it as I gulp down another Diet Coke (Just for the Taste of It) and channel-surfing my Verizon Fios menu (when you get Fios, that's when you Get It.) And try to remember what I thought was so compelling about this--- umm, television drama clip, and why I thought it belonged in a blog about commercials. Maybe it's the blonde. She is awfully cute. I wonder what her favorite cereal is?
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
I hope Davy Crockett falls, breaks his leg, and dies cold and alone out there. Being eaten by Bambi's dad
"As a hunter, I know the thrill, the raw excitement involved in hiding halfway up a tree for several hours waiting for one of God's Innocent Creatures to wander by in it's endless search for food. I know the electric tingle that crawls up my back as I pull an arrow from my quiver, bend back my $900 PSE Dream Season Compound Bow with Mossy Oak Infinity Camo (seriously) and let a sharp metal shaft fly into the guts of a strong, healthy buck. I know the moment of exultation which erupts in concert with the great beast's collapse to the forest floor. I know the flow of adrenaline when the arrow doesn't quite hit true, and I engage in the pursuit of a terrified, wounded, bleeding animal as it attempts to carry off the very expensive arrow (they can cost $10 or more each- again, seriously) that continues to rend it's internal organs."
"I wouldn't wreck that experience with chewing or smoking tobacco. Chewing tobacco can cause mouth cancer. Smoking tobacco is even worse- prey usually have a very well-developed sense of smell, and one cigarette can give your position away and ruin my best chance all weekend to bring down a large mammal that was just minding it's own business until I came along with my medieval concept of communing with nature."
"So when I'm sitting in my deer stand waiting for something to wander into range (just like my rugged ancestors used to do) I stick to several cans of beer (just like my rugged ancestors did.) No way I'm going to let tobacco cut my years of slaughtering wildlife short, no sir."
Sunday, November 17, 2013
I am not surprised that the network which has assaulted us with Judge Judith Sheinlin's non-legal version of "Justice" managed to find dozens of people to pull this crap. I would not be surprised if each and every one of the people who took part in this did it for nothing but a few moments of face time on tv, and absolutely no money was transferred.
Here's why: "Judge" Judy's show has, for 17 years, been nothing more than a parade of barely-literate mouth-breathers who have loaned the wrong people money surrendering their last shred of dignity in exchange for the opportunity to be on television. Seventeen years of obese high-school dropouts who are all aspiring actresses (and real-life hairdressers) who are pissed at ex-boyfriends/ fathers of some of their children (who are all Temporarily Between Jobs I'm Trying to Get My Life Together Judge Construction Workers) and who thought that they were paying the rent and electricity and taking him on trips as Favors which would be Repaid, while he was quite clear from the start that This Was All Her Idea and he Never Promised Anything in Return and all the money and favors were Gifts, Your Honor. With a few minor tweaks- sometimes there's a bb gun and a dog involved, and sometimes the scene is a trailer park instead of a low-end suburb or downtown LA- that's the drill, twice a day, five days a week- for seventeen freaking years.
What exactly are we "celebrating" here? The popularity of a "Judge" who more often than not decides cases with Solomon-level wisdom like "I don't believe you" or "no you didn't?" That millions of people think that what she does has something to do with being an actual judge and deciding actual cases? That millions of people think this is what "law" looks like? Why would we want to celebrate that?
Saturday, November 16, 2013
I actually liked the first Despicable Me movie. I thought it was a sweet, entertaining little surprise. The sequel? Ten minutes in I felt like I was watching a film that had been cobbled together with no sense of direction by people who had so many dollar signs in their eyes that they couldn't be bothered with a script. The only guiding principles of the sequel were "stick the Minions everywhere" and "use the fart gun (which was just a MISTAKE and a TEN SECOND GAG in the first film) as many times as possible." I didn't care about Gru finding a wife, I didn't care about the little girl finding a boyfriend, I thought "El Macho" came off like a stale remnant from some racially insensitive 1960s Saturday morning cartoon, and was pretty darned happy when the whole experience was over.
Ok, now on to this commercial. We see Minions being Minions, doing things we really don't want to see your kids mimicking if and when we ever go to McDonalds. They seem to be settling down to a "meal" of four Chicken McNuggets each which has magically become "good for you" because it's being washed down with milk. Uh-huh. And if you would like to make it "even better," hey, you can get apple slices! Double Uh-huh. Doesn't really change the fact that you are eating greasy fried chicken things (and, let's face it, greasy fried potatoes, too. Because kids who willingly pick apple slices over french fries are being raised by parents who wouldn't bring them to McDonalds in the first place, ok?)
Here's what McDonald's should say in this ad, just to make it a little honest: "Hey, check out these guys- they are the reason why your kids dragged you to see Despicable Me 2 and will drag you to see Despicable Me 3, 4 and 5 if we can crank them out before your kids outgrow them (remember how you thought you dodged a bullet because they were too young to demand to be brought to the yearly Shrek abominations?) Well, guess what? Your kids love them, so you'd better haul their fat asses to McDonalds if you want anything resembling peace in your home."
"Oh, and if you listen to this commercial carefully, you'll note that we only implied that Happy Meals are 'good for you' if you are an imaginary cartoon character, and not an actual human being with nutritional needs. Our lawyers have checked it out, and we are covered."
First- "everything's fine?" Really? Some guy just tried to break into your house, doing some pretty severe-looking damage to your door and setting off the alarm. "Just fine?" Well, you are a calm little cucumber, aren't you?
Second- what's the fireman kneeling down to tell the little girl there? "You see, little girl, sometimes natural gas comes out of the ground and if Mommy and Daddy are so plastered that they don't even notice the smell which has been added as a safety precaution, and no matter how hard you shake them they aren't going to respond. So it's a good thing that on one of the rare occasions that your parents had a clear mind they took the precaution of installing this ADT Security System."
"We make you safe"- by bathing your house in a glowing blue light lifted straight from the memory of your favorite disco. It's a well known fact that disco lights are a strong deterrent against home invasion, but until now I wasn't aware that it's also great at detecting radon.
"After all, someone's got to look after you, and it sure as hell isn't going to be one of THESE people."
Friday, November 15, 2013
This girl's family congratulates her--- not for her first job, but her first paycheck. Ok, whatever.
And she's got a tripped-out phone which allows her to deposit checks by snapping pictures of them, which she acquired before she got her first paycheck. Priorities, priorities.
Now all we need to do is introduce her employer to the concept of Direct Deposit.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
About a decade ago, this same stupid song was used in a reprehensible, downright creepy Dr. Pepper ad. In that commercial, "Stacy's Mom" could not contain her delight at her ability to get a group of soccer-playing preteen boys to mob her minivan's supply of sugary soda. The ick factor was strong with that one- Stacy's mom clearly enjoyed being the object of....umm....something to these little boys, and if it took ten bucks worth of Dr. Pepper to get them to swarm her, it was money well spent.
I couldn't find that commercial on YouTube, otherwise I would have included it along with this Not Quite As Squicky But Pretty Damned Close Cadillac commercial. In this one, we are grateful that the guy ogling Stacy's Mom (actually, her car- as in the Dr Pepper ad, there's nothing especially attractive about the woman being featured) is at least an adult. The creepiness comes in the way he's transfixed by what looks to me like a very typical SUV type vehicle to the point where he has to be shaken out of his Car Lust Coma by his kid, who may or may not get that what he's getting hot over is the car and not the woman driving it.
Oh, and the super-pleased-with-herself woman in this ad-- jesus, lady, do you realize that you are actually settling for being admired for your car? That's just depressing.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Here at Washington Metrorail, we are always working to find new ways to make your commute more...um, interesting!
Because of our tireless efforts to keep your travel as delightfully unpredictable as possible, we've added a few special weekend attractions, like our Guess When The Next Train Is Coming game. It's basically a more family-friendly version of our old classic Next Train Arrival Time? None of your Damned Business game.
This weekend-only (for now) offering is available to all Metro riders, except of course for the ones who are on buses because their station is closed for repairs.* Are you among THAT lucky group? Check back late in the week to find out, and good luck!
And don't worry, the regular weekday services will continue to be available. Services like
Elevators out at the following four Metro stops, hope you aren't in a wheelchair
Try to find the Exit Gate that will accept your SmartCard, Go on We Dare You!
Try to find the FareCard Machine that will actually take debit and credit cards, We Dare You!
Which Metro Station will have an actual employee sitting in his cubicle this week?
Not to mention the classic Metro benefits your parents once enjoyed and which have now been passed on to you, like the calorie-burning Stationary Escalators ("Don't Call Them Stairs, Stairs Don't Have Jagged Teeth!") and the laugh-out-loud "radios must be used with headphones" signs (since the advent of earbuds, and the apparent willingness of Metrorail to pretend that earbuds are the equivalent of headphones even if everyone on the train can hear what the earbud-user is listening to, these really are quite funny.) Some traditions are just too good to give up, don't you agree?
*Single-Tracking is all about Serving You Better, of course. So shut the f--up and get on the bus, you ungrateful, car-less loser.
Monday, November 11, 2013
Right around the fourth or fifth consecutive grunt-as-a-replacement-for-a-severely-defective-vocabulary, I hit the mute button rather than continuing to enjoy fake home movies featuring LeBron James enjoying quality time in his palace with his family.
Because really, who gives a flying damn? LeBron James is massively rich. LeBron James has a big house and a big driveway and a Humvee (several of each, I imagine) and a little kid and a wife and an electronic device which allows him to capture moments of his perfect existence. Awesome for him. What the hell any of this has to do with anything I'm supposed to buy is totally beyond me.
It's also totally beyond all the witless drooling YouTube glue-sniffers, who have conned themselves into thinking that they are seeing something genuine and warm that does not involve a lucrative marketing contract for a guy who really doesn't need any more money. Hey, YouTube losers, here's a desperately needed clue: there are a whole lot of dads out there who do crap like this with their kids all the time, even when there ISN'T a professional camera crew hanging around.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
1. This "elimination" bit has been done to death over the past several years. I've seen it used to pick out cars and (bizarrely) to convince a family to eat dinner at Golden Corral. It's not only unoriginal, it's boring and played and really, really stupid.
2. The only way this commercial ends logically is with the woman being confronted with absolutely no Disgusting Crap Frozen Pizza choices. And with this woman either
A) accepting that if she wants a "pizza her family will love" which is also reasonably good for them, she'll have to get off her lazy, shortcut-taking ass and buy the ingredients that will permit her to make the damn thing herself, in her own kitchen. The entire time I was growing up, I was never once "treated" to a piece of formerly frozen pizza-shaped cardboard because my mother (who worked outside the home) regularly found the time to actually make wonderful homemade pizza. For five kids.
B) exclaiming "fuck it, I did my best" and buying whatever nasty frozen monstrosity laughingly referred to as "pizza" is on sale that week.
Maybe I'm being cynical, but I kind of suspect this woman would go for Option B. Because it would be nice to find a pizza "her family would love," but what she really wants is something that will shut them the hell up for another night or maybe even convince Hubby to take them out more often. Maybe to Golden Corral.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Hey, Mr. Jackson? If you really want to sell us on the idea that a bottle of sweet syrup which is basically just a substitute for coffee keeps you active, you might think about showing us images of you actually doing something other than looking out a window or sprawling on a chair while gazing at your Blackberry. Because seriously, that's stuff that this non-Two Sport Superstar From the 80s can do in his sleep.
BTW, I'm sure you've heard this a million times, but once more won't hurt- you freaking idiot you could have been the greatest baseball player of all time why the HELL did you have to get greedy and insist on playing football too you MORON!
Ok, done. I'm just angry because I was forced to watch this crap before each and every World Series highlight clip presented by MLB.com. Which means I really hate the abuse heaped upon me by MLB.com, and am taking it out on Bo Jackson.
Friday, November 8, 2013
All of these commercials for the half-dozen companies which have inexplicably decided that Robert Griffin III is an icon despite absolutely no record of success in the NFL use the terms "great" and "elite" and "sensational," etc. All of this hype for a guy who has QB'd in exactly one playoff game- which he lost .
Can someone explain this to me?
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Jeff and Karen don't know it yet, but their lives as individual human beings are about to come to an end.
You see, Jeff and Karen are about to meet. They'll be physically attracted to each other, they'll go out to dinner and have long, involved talks and gradually realize that they really, really like being together and don't even notice when hours have gone by. They'll go to movies and take long walks in the park and when they aren't together, they'll think about each other a lot.
But then, because there's this thing called Society which has Expectations, they'll fuck it all up by getting married. Then they'll get a house with a mortgage which they'll spend extra hours at work laboring to pay off. Sex won't be fun anymore- it will be a chore and a duty and naturally Karen will start popping out children, because yes those Societal Expectations again. Jeff will get crow's feet around his eyes staring at his laptop screen maneuvering money here and there, because he Must plan for being dead someday and leaving the fruits of his labor to that girl he used to really enjoy sleeping with and those kids.
Jeff and Karen won't be running off to the beach at a moment's notice- no more grabbing a bottle of wine out of the fridge and slipping into a park for a little slightly illegal but ever so much fun naughtiness, because there are those kids and, again, those Societal Expectations. It's all so By the Book for Jeff and Karen, but that's ok because this is the way it's Supposed to Be.
Jeff and Karen have long since been rendered cold, and in the all-too-near future they will be rendered dead as well. That's ok, though- they've had the required boy and girl who will grow up to have a few brief years of fun before becoming square pegs in square holes. Buying houses. Having kids. Getting old. Worrying about money. And pretending that somehow this is all worthwhile, because after all, Society approves.
Congratulations, Jeff and Karen. You represent all that is suffocating and noxious in a life rendered lifeless all too quickly. Here's society's reward for you- a pat on the head, and another little nudge toward the abyss.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
So, to sum up:
This kid gets an IM from his mom which reads "we need to talk." This guy is so attached to his mom, he quickly types back the equivalent of a "wtf-ever, mom" brush-off. Ok, this happens- sometimes my mother contacts me and I'm halfway out the door or in the middle of something very important, and I have to put her off for a bit. But I've never put my mom on the back burner so I can play some dumb-ass video game. Jerk.
Mom eventually gets his attention- by sending a photo of the kid's dog with the note "Boomer's not doing that well." Ten seconds later this kid is heading to the airport so he can be at his dog's side. Kind of sweet, except that it's been made very clear that if it were MOM who was "not doing that well," chances are this kid would still be playing his brain-dead Really You Need To Grow Out of This I Mean You Are On Your Own And Everything game while quietly cursing out Mom for continually interrupting him.
Because Boomer is vastly more important than Mom, we next see the kid waiting for the bus to take him to the airport so he can dash home and be with his dog. He learns that his flight has been cancelled, so he does what anyone would do if he were an Inexplicably Independent Moron with the means to jump on planes and fly off to distant places at a moment's notice- he whips out his phone and asks the Magic Google "how do I get home?"
At this point, my suspension of disbelief has gone right off the cliff. The credibility of this commercial has been stretched so far that it's snapped and left a welt on my face. For a moment, I actually think that Google has responded with a matter-of-fact, "here's your route it's only 500 miles have fun" response- but no, it's informed him that there's an express train that can get him down the East Coast in no time. Which instantly tells me that wherever this commercial is taking place, it sure as hell isn't the United States. Unless "Train" translates to "Amtrak" and "Express" means "inside of 14 hours, unless it's raining."
I'm going to assume that this butthead gets back to his mother's home to comfort his dog, and mom reacts with "what the hell are you doing here? Jesus, you can't get home for Thanksgiving or Christmas or Mother's Day or my birthday, but I tell you that your dog is sick and you act like someone lit a fire under your ass?"
"I hope your electronic best friend got you hotel reservations, because I turned your room into a library. And take your sick dog with you."
Monday, November 4, 2013
Coming next: "When Katniss isn't hunting squirrels to sell in the District 13 meat market or inexplicably finding herself attracted to a whiny, pasty, manipulative stalker when she's already got a handsome, rugged and self-assured soul mate, she really loves digging into a Sriracha Chicken Sandwich available for a limited time at Subway!"
Or how about "Subway salutes the release of the second film of The Hunger Games Trilogy by reminding you that when YOU'RE hungry, you don't have to put your name into a horrifyingly futuristic (yet hackneyed) lottery- just head down to YOUR district's closest Subway Restaurant!"
"And don't forget to see Catching Fire, the deeply inferior sequel to the already-overrated Hunger Games! But don't go hungry- drop by Subway first!"
Sunday, November 3, 2013
I saw these commercials back to back in the wee hours of the morning while entering my fifth straight hour of writing notes, and while on my seventh or eighth can of Diet Coke. Not once, not twice, but about nine times.
Around the sixth time, they became indistinguishable. They were no longer two separate ads, but one long one, featuring a member of the Hitler Youth joining with the Pillsbury Dough Boy to barbecue hamburgers and corn on the cob while lacing cheap pastry with sugary icing. I think Tony Shaloub might have been involved too. Or maybe I had a Monk marathon on.
Saturday, November 2, 2013
So this woman just woke up one morning and totally forgot that she had a trip to take? It sure looks that way- her phone tells her that she has to get to the airport ( for a few moments, I thought maybe we'd find out that she just had to pick someone up there, but no....) and she dashes off, showing us how much a hurry she's in by frantically pressing the elevator button, etc...
Naturally she never takes her eyes off her phone, which tells her what gate to go to and which baggage claim to use, and never mind that both pieces of information are readily available even to us losers who don't have tripped-out phones. I get the idea that after she picks up her bags, the phone will let her know where she is, why she is there, and how long she's going to remain.
Friday, November 1, 2013
I'm not even going to do the usual anti-"connectivity" rant that comes so naturally to mind when I see an ad celebrating the ability of privileged first-class douchenozzles to stare at their glowing screens for five hours during an international flight. Or how little I care that the dick at the center of all this can keep track of "The Market' while he's resting his pampered ass on his oversized, comfy business-size seat.
I'm too busy being horrified at the idea that this plane appears to be traveling 500 miles an hour at an altitude of 80 feet above the freaking ocean. How the hell can these people keep the water from flying out of their ostentatious wine glasses? The turbulence must be unbelievable!
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
This show is produced and presented by The Weather Channel.
Seriously. No kidding. The Weather Channel.
Grizzled loser "prospectors" wearing dirty clothes and sporting frayed beards if they are male, dirty revealing clothes and someone less facial hair if they are female. Rock slides. No doubt an explosion now and then. Lots of mountain-climbing truck action. And yelling. A LOT of yelling.
I suppose that at least once an episode, someone will complain about the heat or the rain. You know, to wedge the topic of weather in there.
Otherwise, what the HELL is this? Why is it that none of the Specific-Content Channels seem capable of sticking to their original themes anymore? I thought that the point of HAVING such channels was to make it easier for the average couch potato to quickly locate what he was in the mood for. Now you really NEVER know what you are going to find no matter WHERE you turn. Though you can make some pretty intelligent guesses:
MTV: Vapid, Stupid, Lazy, Spoiled Idiots sitting around luxury homes yelling at each other.
AMC: Zombies, Mad Men, movies released 10-20 years ago that nobody not collecting a paycheck from AMC would call "classic."
The History Channel: Ice Road Truckers, Pawn Stars, Hillbillies and Crocodiles, Ancient Aliens
National Geographic: Doomsday Preppers (or Let's Pretend There's Something Cool about Thoroughly Creepy Nazi/White Supremacist Survivalists.)
TBS: Family Guy, How I Met Your Mother, The Big Bang Theory, and God-Awful "Original" programming followed by "Family Guy."
And now The Weather Channel, which used to be very carefully targeted to the demographic which includes over-70 shut-ins and People Stuck In Their Homes During Blizzards, which I guess is going to be expanding to include Shows Rejected By The History Channel. And my question remains- WHY?
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Seriously, this is somebody's "NFL fantasy?"
Earth to immensely stupid people on my television: This is no way to waste the only life you have. Get away from your television. Enjoy the fresh air. Spend time with your kids. And while you are out actually functioning in society instead of engaging in crap like this....
think about how disgustingly shallow and pointless your life was when it was wrapped up in some millionaire running around on a football field every Sunday afternoon. Acting as if he had accomplished something of value whenever he got a ball or brought down an opposing player. Dancing like an exhibitionist freak who didn't get enough attention from Mommy growing up. Mugging for the camera every few seconds. A player who doesn't know who you are, will never know who you are, and will never give the slightest damn about you or your pathetic version of a life.
Here's another little piece of advice: Maybe it's time for you to return the favor. There's life outside your living room and the stadium parking lot. There's precious little life inside your living room, or in that parking lot. Your kids won't be young forever, and you won't be here forever. Stop wasting the gift of life your mom gave you by acting like an obsessed, directionless dweeb whose idea of fun is to fantasize about being with your favorite NFL player.
Because there is so much more than this, believe me.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
"You have the most god-awful taste in music of any dad who has ever lived. And you are perfectly willing to let my date know it."
"You think owning this car gives you the privilege of driving off the road and right on to the wide sidewalk my private school inexplicably decided to spend $100,000 building (along with the gaudy lanterns set up to assure that nobody could miss the impossibly vast entrance doors.) I am embarrassed beyond description."
"And then you give me a Please Punch Me In My Douche Face look as we are going into the dance. Yes, we get it. You are a dick who thinks your 14-year old daughter is a sexpot and not just going to a fricking school dance."
"Which makes you the one with the problem. Do YOU get it?"