Electronics for the biggest douchenozzles on the planet- US.

Because in the most disgustingly spoiled-rich country on the planet, it's perfectly ordinary for people to treat sensitive, expensive electronics that would cost the average mill worker in Pakistan two month's wages like used Kleenex.  Because Americans simply can NOT be trained to stop acting like wasteful, materialistic pigs with their Stuff, Samsung will now pretend that the people who think they "need" this crap will not find new ways to carelessly break them.

(The guy who emerges from being buried by his kids on the beach will wonder how his "Whatever-Proof" phone got destroyed despite Samsung's promise of indestructibility.  Here's a hint, Dad- check out the face on your disappointed kid, who was just beginning to believe that you actually wanted to spend some quality time with him when your f--ing phone went off and you just HAD to answer it on the first ring....)

Phones are going to keep getting destroyed by people who can't live without them, yet know how easy they are to replace, and are well-trained to want an excuse to replace them regularly anyway.  All this means is that the landfills are going to consist of sturdier piles of slightly more rugged pieces of junk leaking mercury into the aquifer.  And we are going to keep on consuming this vile rubbish along with our Dollar Menu McDiabetes Meals while the world starves around us, updating to the "newest" model every few months Just Because, whether it breaks or not.

Which makes one wonder- what the hell is the point?  And not just about this commercial, either.

Forty-something years of simply Not Doing My Job...

I really hope that reincarnation is real, because when I die I'd like to come back as a Man, so I can do Man things like

1.  Toast other Men with Light Beer after leering at waitresses,

2.  Maintain a Totally Natural 3-Day beard and Even More Naturally Mussed hair,

3.  Never wear any outfit on the weekend that does not include a dirty plaid shirt which is untucked,

4.  Throw heavy things like engines and plumbing supplies in the back of dirty pickup trucks,

5.  Barbecue Everything,

6.  Be inexplicably married to a girl who is way too good for me,*  and

7.  Take sledge hammers to decks, bathrooms, etc. so I can Remodel, Remodel and Remodel some more.

I mean, it all looks like so much fun.

*I've actually done this one.  So I have SOME Man experience.  Other than that, though, I really don't resemble anyone who has ever played a Man in a television commercial.  And I'd really like to.  Maybe next time.

"I'm trying to earn a living selling trucks, and you aren't helping, you witless time-sucking dickweed."

"What's going on here?"

Seriously- really?  Did this guy just wander off the grounds of the mental ward and find himself in a truck dealership?  Can we use this in other situations?  I was at an Orioles game last night- should I have walked around with my hands in my pockets asking "what's going on here?"

"You want the long or short answer?" Followed by "the long, I guess."  Again- what the hell?  It couldn't be more obvious that the witless doofus who has stumbled across the unfamiliar sight of a store which sells trucks and finds himself completely flummoxed by it is only in need of directions back to his hospice care provider.  Instead, the truck salesman asks "do you want to waste SOME of my time, or a LOT of it?"  And when in the history of our planet has ANYONE ever chosen the long answer over the short?  Escaped Mental Patient has basically responded with more evidence that he's an Escaped Mental Patient- "gee, given a choice, I guess I'd rather here the long version of What Is Going On In This Store Which Obviously Sells Trucks and is Filled With People Who May Be Interested in Buying a Truck."

The salesman responds with less than ten seconds of gibberish I didn't even bother to really listen to.  That's the "long version."  Mercifully.

Naturally, Pot-Bellied Dope who announced very first thing that he's not a potential customer then asks for the Short Version.  Groan.   Short version being "check out the sign, illiterate douchenozzle."

Sure, this guy is going to be driving away in a truck.  It's a much better bet that in half an hour he'll be strolling through a playground, asking eight year olds "so, what's going on here" until a friendly cop tells him to move on or at least calls the phone number conveniently attached to his shirt so that his keepers can collect him and get him back to the Home.

And worst of all- there are several of these "what's going on" commercials.  Because Chevy thinks people are really, really stupid and the football stadium-sized American flags out front and the gigantic TRUCK SALE signs inside aren't quite enough to convince us that TRUCKS ARE BEING SOLD HERE.

Smirnoffs Night of Mixed Messages

Ok, let's start with the "you walk your cat" and "Rufus is a dog's name" bit.  Even before we switched to the women, I had this instant, sick feeling that this was some idea of Guys Acting Like Girls.  Some sick Male's idea of Guys Acting Like Girls, that is.

And why are these guys talking about cats named Rufus?  Because their women have not yet shown up.  They are late.  What are they doing?

Ok, that's enough about the guys.  They aren't really all that important to this commercial, and I don't want to put more thought into their conversation than the writers did.  Let's move on.

Turns out that they are in an apartment, guzzling vodka and putting off the inevitable, unpleasant Meeting With the Guys.  One of them makes up a story about being stuck in traffic, or something, and the guys totally buy it (and get back to talking about cats, I imagine.)  Having "bought another hour," the girls get back to getting smashed on Vodka.  And we are left with the powerful impression that soon, they'll all head off to meet the guys.  Drunk.

(Is this someone's idea of "Girls Acting Like Guys?")

Besides the immense blanket of Stupid that smothers this entire mess, I have a specific problem with this commercial for Smirnoffs.   My problem is that it's message completely negates the second commercial for Smirnoffs- the one that I kind of like.  The one that shows women acting responsibly.  It's almost as if Smirnoffs wants to give "both sides" to a situation, and endorse them both.  Yes, getting hammered at your friend's house before meeting up with your date is a lot of fun.  But so is getting hammered at a bar and then taking a taxi home.  Either way, as long as it involves consuming large quantities of our favorite Vodka.

Maybe the message we are supposed to get is that the guys in the first ad are so boring, so painful to be with, so depressingly dull with their arguments over cat names and the like, that the Women in their Lives can only bear to be with them if they are plastered.  Maybe.  But I still think the "let's keep drinking a little while longer before we have to be with them" theme more than a little off-putting, especially since we don't see these women climb into a taxi at the end of the ad.  Pity, because the second commercial is actually pretty cute, besides providing a positive message that doesn't really come down all that hard on men, and shows drinkers doing the Right Thing by taking a cab home.

So, hit and miss, Smirnoffs.  You are batting .500 in my book- much better than most companies, I must say.

Another "Dads should be neither seen nor heard" commercial provided by Family-Friendly KFC

Dad the chinless, clueless wonder notices a flock of younger people (appropriately gender-and-ethnicity mixed for television, of course) squatting on his porch eating KFC and makes an hi-LARIOUS attempt to actually communicate with them in a language they might understand.

Naturally, he fails miserably and makes himself look like an even bigger fool than the smirking young people already thought he was.  He fails primarily because he tries to use a few "cool" words he thought he heard people their age use while scrolling channels, but of course he can't because he's another really stupid Dad.   So they just ignore him, snigger among themselves and just wish he would just go away and stop being stupid Dad right in front of them.

Dad DOES go away, because he thinks that Kids These Days are eating the bones of their Original Recipe ("old school") chicken and that Carol needs to get out of the shower and hear about this Right Now.  This just makes the kids happier in their silent contempt for Dad, the Walking Punchline who never, ever fails to deliver.  Yay Dad, you used to shame me in front of my friends with your cluelessness, now they accept that you are an old moron and are funny in so many ways, thank you for your brief attempts to be a part of my life which always end in hysterical failure!

And by the way, it's not at all surprising that the kids who decided to go to KFC and then hang out on Dad's porch didn't even consider bringing Dad or Carol any chicken- why would they do that?  They'd probably insist on sitting out there on the porch boring them with their lame attempts to belong, and that's funny for a while but it does get old.  The best thing about Parents on TV is that they generally understand that their role is to just provide things like phones and tablets and tvs and places to sit, say something really dumb but often reasonably snarkworthy now and then, and exit the stage.  Dad can come back when it's time to clean up after the kids, and he'll be called when the next cable upgrade is required, but until then- just fuck off, ok, Dad?

At this point, I'd rather Geico just start battering me with a blunt instrument than continue to subject me to this garbage

If you think you can stomach it, check out the responses to this abomination on YouTube.  Everyone there thinks this is hysterical- more than one guy "cracks up every time he sees it."  Several are just so full of mirth over this As Usual The Punchline Doesn't Come Close To Justifying The Setup bowl of pond scum that all they can manage is to repeat "Hump Day!"

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you: Our future.  God help us all.

Anyway, there's no reason to believe that this Geico's latest headache-and-bile-inducing ad campaign is going to let up any time soon.  Not as long as the adult children over at YouTube continue to enjoy sucking down sewage and calling it steak.  But the sixth airing of this ad in the past hour on AMC has more than convinced me to change the channel and go into my 20th year of having car insurance which is Not Geico.

Meanwhile, good luck in your continued scraping of the barrel, Geico.  I'm sure it gives you great pleasure to know that a large population of dim bulbs finds your commercials entertaining enough to comment on (hiding behind fake names, at least- that counts for something, right?)   Me?  I just want everyone involved in this concept to die horribly.  Like most things that I want, that's too much to ask, of course.

Bursting two bubbles with one blog

1.  "It's nice to be on a site where....guys are actually looking for a woman my age...."

Well, I guess if you want to look at it that way, you are entitled, lady.  But let me clue you in:  The only guys out there who are looking for a woman over fifty are in their seventies or eighties, and have given up hope of snagging someone even younger.  They aren't looking for you, but they are willing to settle for you.  If you find that flattering, you really need to check out this other guy....

2.  "I got my first flirt within ten minutes of being on the site....yeah...."

Seriously, this is like a bagel that believes it's popular because ten seconds after it was tossed on the beach, it was being fought over by three seagulls.  Hey, buddy?  The site is designed to reel in desperate, sagging people who just don't want to die alone and (as previously noted) have given up trying to hook a young hottie.  You aren't a bad looking guy, and your surface appearance suggests you've got some financial security.  That makes you very, very attractive to the audience you've chosen to appear before.  Like a Snickers bar left out on a hot sidewalk is super-appealing to an ant colony.  If you find that flattering, please introduce yourself to that first woman.  You were made for each other.

But hey, at least you aren't trying out Christian Mingle, and are announcing "yes, I'm lonely and desperate, but I'm still going to start off by vetoing the vast majority of people out there who don't belong to my particular branch of Southern North American Presby-Lutheranism" ( I stole that from The Simpsons.  Not a real church.  I don't think.)

Actual Product Being Peddled Here: An Ejector Seat

Or perhaps a law firm specializing in quickie divorces?

This video eventually presented as Exhibit A in the case against John Smith, accused of murdering his wife and burying it in a shallow grave somewhere in the West Virginia wilderness.  Ultimately the jury rules in favor of Smith and his plea of Self Defense.

Seriously, what else is there to say about this ad?  "I'm too hot."  "I'm freezing."  Get your own car, lady- and until then, shut your complain hole!

And another charming episode from Samsung, the gift that just keeps giving...

1.  Why do all these commercials feature people using their amazing Samsung Galaxy phones in places where you'd expect an actual television (complete with much bigger, more visible screen) to be readily available?  In one from last year, a woman is sitting on her couch watching a Packers game....on her phone.  "This is perfect" she sighs.  Really?  Then what would you call actually being able to SEE the action on that television five feet from you? "Paradise?"  I can't think of one good reason why the guy in this ad isn't just watching his television.

2.  Why do all of these commercials featuring Daddy and Baby never, ever show Daddy talking to Baby instead of treating it like a lumpy package which needs to be held for a short time (until Mommy gets back to doing "her" job?)  In these ads Daddy is ALWAYS staring at his phone, carrying on conversations with someone on his phone, or doing both at the same time- meanwhile, Baby is enjoying it's--ahem--"quality time" with Daddy, I guess.  Is this what real life looks like?  You'd think that Daddy might use at least SOME of this time to get to know his kid- look right into his face, talk to him, laugh with him, etc. etc- instead of acting as if it's just a warm bundle of something which makes it kind of awkward to do stuff with his precious phone.  This shit seriously makes me sick- next time you and your Significant Other feel like your lives are missing something, I suggest you just upgrade your goddamned phones and leave the having kids thing to people who, oh, I don't know- WANT TO HAVE KIDS.

Point of Personal Privilege: Death of James Gandolfini

I was taking my late-afternoon walk yesterday, switching channels on my XM radio, and happened to land on Shepard Smith of Fox "News" talking about "reports that caused jaws to drop in this studio...the untimely death of a giant of a man, people here looked at each other in disbelief, could this be true?"  I waited for maybe thirty seconds to find out exactly WHO this very important person whose death was so sudden and unexpected and shocking and then learned it was....

James Gandolfini.  A television and movie star.  Known by about 99 percent of the public solely for his work on The Sopranos.

I instantly realized that I would be unable to watch any of the news shows that night on Fox, MSNBC, or CNN, unless I wanted to be dragged through an endless Mobius strip of solemn-faced yakkers expressing shock and sadness that an actor on a show they all inexplicably worshiped had died.  Oh, and absolute SHOCK that an obese chain-smoker could die of a heart attack at the tender age of fifty-one.

(Sidebar:  Anyone who has any experience watching reports of celebrity deaths knows that events like heart attacks and car crashes are simply not supposed to happen to these Very Important People.  Those standard, boring ways of passing are reserved to us Mortals.  Dying in private plane crashes, ski accidents, or overdoses- that's fine.  Car crashes and heart attacks?  Please.  I give this 24 hours, tops, before we start hearing the James Gandolfini Was Murdered By The Mob rumors.)

Ok, back to the point of this particular rant:  Through it's entire run, I probably viewed less than half a dozen episodes of The Sopranos, and then only because I think a law was passed requiring that I do so, and being unable to slack off work to discuss the show the next day made one a Social Outcast.  My principle relationship with the show was that it convinced at least one new student a year to ask me why, being an Italian-American, I didn't belong to the Jersey Mob, because aren't ALL Italian-Americans in the Mob?

To me, James Gandolfini playing Tony Soprano, feeding into every anti-Italian Stereotype that non-Italians have of Italians, always rubbed me the wrong way.  I tried to imagine the reaction if Denzel Washington played a Stephin Fetchit character on a cable tv series- and became the most popular, beloved character on TV for doing it.

No, I am not asking for Italian-Americans to comment on whether they found The Sopranos offensive.  I'm not trying to conduct a poll, and my distaste for the show and it's characterization of one-fourth of my heritage doesn't hinge on the opinions of others.  I'm just using my blog to explain why I am switching channels whenever I see a ponderous, pointless "tribute" to a guy who was basically playing Marlon Brando for HBO.  That's all.

Back to commercials tomorrow, I promise.

"Signed, Bored Moron Loser with a Stamp"

Dear Chex,

I've never written a fan letter before, but LOL am I ever a fan of your amazing Family of Cereals!  You really have something for everyone- I've always been a big fan of Rice Chex, and the Twins are just crazy for Corn Chex and Wheat Chex (I thought you had to be at least seventy to like Wheat Chex, boy was I wrong. ) You learn something new every day (YOU do- I sure don't!)

And when my husband Tom learned about Chocolate Chex, well, we were in Chocolate Heaven!

Anyway, as you can probably guess from this letter, I've been dead for quite some time now!  I used to get really good grades in school, and for a while I imagined I'd go to college and establish a career and maybe do something important and unique in my life.  But one day I met a guy who could put me in a house and buy me stuff and get me pregnant every few years, and he made it sound so easy, so I just said Fuck It, took the ring and moved in. Then I died, but that doesn't stop me from pouring the milk on your awesome cereal LOL!

Several children later, I'm writing Fan Letters to a Cereal Company!  I'd call that a Miracle, wouldn't you? Please?

Anyway, Tom is off to work, the kids are off to school, and I'm off to find where I put that bleach bucket LOL!  Just thought I'd let you know how much we, the Macgregor Family, enjoy Chex!  We really, really do you know!

Signed, Mrs. Tom Macgregor of the Macgregor Family ( I can't even remember by maiden name LOL!)

Anytown, USA

The Next Big thing is The Same Old Joke

Sigh.  Here we go again.....

This has to be Episode #47,000,000 or so in the Adventures of Doofus Daddy and his Hilarious Attempts to Actually Take Care of the Baby He Helped Make.   Ad agencies simply cannot get enough of this particular show, can they?

Each chapter shows basically the same guy- a young sperm donor- doing basically the same thing- struggling with some mindless, child related chore which naturally is extremely hard for him to pull of because, after all, he's got this whole Y Chromosome thing going so of course actually handling a baby isn't really his normal gig.  What's supposed to make this endlessly repeating storyline so "funny" is that Daddy is attempting to do something that, really, only Mommies know how to do.  Instinctively.

We don't see the other Regular in this particular episode- that's the All-Knowing In the Ways of Baby Wife, who knew how to Swaddle babies before she herself was out of the crib, we can assume.  Females are genetically engineered to swaddle babies, spread Nutella, and use Bounty paper towels-- it's why they have four fingers and a thumb on each hand, after all.  But we hear her on the phone, and she sounds positively apologetic that some emergency called her away from her natural role of swaddler and forced to her to leave that responsibility in the hands of a person who, as I've already pointed out, simply isn't up to the task.  She even sounds a little surprised that he hasn't managed to kill HER kid in his attempts to wrap a blanket around it.

And why has Daddy been so successful at wrapping a blanket around his kid, when loading a weapon, changing the oil on the family's pickup or squirting Round-Up on the weeds in the sidewalk are far more suited to his talents?  Because he's able to ask his phone for help (more specifically, he's able to ask YouTube for help, but whatever.)  The Swaddling Tips (sick of that word yet?) have naturally been posted by....a woman.  Well, what did we expect?

I'm not even going to comment on the "baby defecates/wets all over the blanket just as Daddy manages to get it wrapped up" punchline.  That's just to get a chuckle out of the mentally deficient droolers who have reached their twenties and still think that baby farts and "that's going to be a wet one" are just CLASSIC.  It's entirely predictable and even necessary here, because after all, if Baby just sat there happy and dry in Daddy's arms, that would imply that Daddy had done something right and all was going to be well, and that's just crazy talk.

I'm just going to assume that Mommy will get home before this helpless mammal (or the baby it's holding) needs to be fed.  Because if Daddy has to figure out all by himself which end of the bottle is supposed to go into Baby's mouth,  I don't give Baby much chance of surviving.  And if Daddy ever loses his connection to YouTube, that thin chance diminishes to basically nothing.  Because when it comes to Daddy and Babies- well, they just don't mix.  Television says so.  Again, and again, and again.

Visa Presents another "let the world know you use our card a LOT with a stupid, showy reward" commercial

While I admit that strength training with Patrick Willis would be pretty cool, and there's no doubt in my mind that the guy in this ad would benefit a lot more from strength training with ANYBODY than "luxury car service," I can't help but think after watching this ad that in real life

A)  Patrick Willis couldn't give a flying damn that some total stranger doesn't want to take on a program of strength training with him- in fact, he would probably think it quite a burden to have this stupid fat slob asking for a spot, and besides

B)  This guy would be mentally begging Patrick Willis to take a swing at him as he's standing on his own damn lawn, so he can call his lawyer and get Willis to settle out of court for a nice sum of money- hey, maybe even enough to buy a gym membership and a few sessions with a strength trainer who DOESN'T play for the NFL.

Am I wrong, just being a bit too cynical, or what?

"My kids are going to be revolting little mess makers again, the darlings- better get some more Bounty!"

Someday, someone will make a commercial which convinces me that I really missed out by never having kids.

That commercial will NOT feature a zombie MommyWife who remembers that she has a nest of out of control spawn at home waiting to throw food against windows (seriously- she imagines this happening, and I can only assume that she's seen this before in real life and fully expects to see it again) and doing all kinds of stupid, disgusting things which make messes because after all Kids Will Be Kids, which in TV land means Kids Will Be Assholes Who Have Not Been Taught To Behave, but only that Mommy Will Be There With Bounty Paper Towels to Clean Up After Them.

In other words, this commercial does not bring me even a tiny little baby step toward regretting having any of these noisy, nasty little urchins.   Back to the drawing board, Bounty.

*I didn't pick up at first that in this case, the purchase of paper towels is triggered by the announcement that MommyWife's inlaws are "bringing the twins."  First- I can't even begin to describe how much I loathe the term "The Twins."  Twins are individual humans who happen to be born of the same mother a short time apart.  They are given names and are generally expected to grow up to be separate, unique human beings.  "The Twins" makes them sound like they are conjoined, one Unit which must always be taken as one Unit.  That's lazy, obnoxious and just plain bullshit, ok?

Second, it's strongly implied here that Doofus Dad expected his brother to show up- but not bring his kids?  What were they supposed to do- was it assumed that The Twins would be staying with brother's wife?  Why does it come as a surprise that brother is bringing The Twins?  Was it assumed that brother wanted to get away from the little monsters for an afternoon?

Third, "my brother is bringing the twins" sets off a momentary panic, because both Doofus Dad and MommyWife know that this means horrible behavior and lots of mess.  to be dealt with by packing in extra paper towels (and, presumably, a few bottles of Tide and Shout.)   Here's a better idea- call Doofus Dad's brother and let him know that his untrained dickweed little demons aren't welcome at your house, and that stands as long as he refuses to do a little parenting.  Seems pretty damned simple to me.

Well, look at that.  I managed to more than double the size of this post.  Sometimes rants are good things.

Neuroplasticity?

I'm sure I'm being overly cynical here, but I can't help wondering if the people who visit Lumosity to engage in Brain Training through the Science of Neuroplasticity aren't all going to end up drinking fruity liquid out of the same cauldron in some South American jungle a few years down the road.

I mean, am I the only person out there who thinks this has "cult" written all over it?  There's no suggestion in these ads that anything is being sold.  Just train your brain at Lumosity.com, for "free."  Well, sorry, but I'm way too bitter and suspicious to believe that ANYTHING is offered for "free."  So what's the price? Subliminal "buy this from companies sponsoring this site" messages implanted in your brain, courtesy the Science of Neuroplasticity?

And BTW, the look this woman gives us at the end, while cartoon lines seem to sprout out of her head-- yeah, this really makes me want to try this out, Lumosity.  Anyone up for 23andMe?

Aquafresh's depressing look at "real people"

The really sad thing is, I totally believe that these ARE real people who decided to sell what little dignity they possessed for a few seconds of screen time on a toothpaste commercial.

So they mug and froth and giggle for the camera like a bunch of developmentally-arrested sixth graders being handed five dollars by their grandparents for every minute they continue to "act cute."  They tell us how much they enjoy this toothpaste stuff while it collects around their mouths and dribbles down their chins.  It's really stupid and gross and intensely dumb and something that only real people could pull off convincingly.

So congratulations, Aquafresh, for taking advantage of very sad but oh so very real people who don't care what they have to do to get on television, and never mind that this kind of ad only shows up in the middle of Comedy Central movies nobody really wants to watch anyway.  Could you do me a favor and go back to hiring actors now?  Because this is so pathetic, it hurts my soul.

Mission Accomplished. Continue to aim high, sister!

Just imagine- if this woman hadn't traded her soul for a big house and popped out these kids, those backpacks would just be sitting there on the floor.  And who would be spreading the Nutella?

My guess is- Nobody. And what a tragedy that would be.  So let's not build a flux capacitor, go back ten years, and suggest to this woman that there might just be something in life worth a bit more than spreading nut and cocoa cream on toast in order to get children to the breakfast table.  I mean, just imagine the tear in the space-time continuum that would create.

The Nutella jar would just sit there, unopened.  The kids would keep playing, and those backpacks would just stay on the floor.  Oh, the humanity.  Thank G-d we can't go back in time, because it would be really awful to mess up all this, wouldn't it?

Believe it or not, this is not a commercial for World War Z

...although it does include a conversation between two people who are clearly dead, and have been for quite some time.

I mean, just look at this:  Wife mutters "that's just brilliant" in a carefully measured, emotionless monotone.   Husband, who seems genuinely surprised to hear words come out of the corpse he's married to, gives a sort-of, "yes, I'm acknowledging you just spoke" response.

Somehow, this turns into a "let's compare these two things with two other things, because about five years ago we both ran out of things to say to each other, but weren't willing to admit that we made a bad choice and rushed into a cold, distant marriage of convenience.  Let's take this opportunity to have a something that bears some resemblance to a conversation, even if it lasts only a few seconds, because it would be kind of fun to at least PRETEND not to be among the walking dead."

As usual (for commercials,) both of these zombies manage to pull up the same mental image.  This isn't a gift shared only by the Undead.  All couples in tv advertisements have it.  It's supposed to make sense to us, The Living.  It doesn't (judging from the YouTube comments, a lot of walking corpses enjoy surfing the web for ad clips and then commenting on them- and they have terrible taste.)

My guess is that if this couple doesn't proceed to feasting on brains within a few minutes, and are in fact actual, living, breathing people, they'll relapse into silence for several more hours until one of them finds something else to be impressed by, leading to another 8-second conversation that keeps life bearable for a few moments.  Maybe they'll note the "brilliance" of the Kiss and Ride, one of them mentioning that hey, that's a lot better than a Kiss OR Ride, for some reason.  Then they'll both die just a little more.

That is, unless they really are already dead.  It's hard to tell.

Umm...what's for sale here again?

Snap.  Click.  Dance, dance, dance.

Check out the glossy surface.  Ease of use.  Portability.  Clickability.  Never mind all that- check out the awesomely choreographed dance moves.

Now go out and buy this flimsy piece of junk.  Because it's cool, and that credit card is burning a hole in your pocket.  You can pay for it later, and meanwhile think how well you'll show for your friends.

It was official a long time ago, but this just another piece of evidence pointing to the conclusion that Americans Are The Biggest, Most Gullible Morons on the Planet.  We never stop acting like kittens being teased by laser pointers.  What's that?  It's shiny!  OMIGOD it looks so cool!  Where do I get one? Best Buy?  On my way!

And what's the first thing I'm going to do when I get it home?  Tell all my Facebook Friends about it.  I bet they all Like it.  Second thing? Figure out what the f--k this is.

(BTW, anyone want to contest my theory that about a hundred times more thought went into making this commercial than in designing this...whatever it is?)

The Final line of this AFLAC Commercial is your acid test

Never mind the Rocky soundtrack, the "personal trainer," and all the rest of this crap- we all knew this was coming from the moment we first saw the "AFLAC duck has been injured" commercial months ago.  The "recovery montage" setup was only slightly less predictable than the sunset.

But if you find yourself actually going online to see "what's going on behind the scenes," your loser status is confirmed.  You have no life, buddy.  Nor do you deserve one.  You long ago ran out of legitimate excuses for being online, and this is the result of your determination not to get your sorry butt off that chair.  Feel free to get the "inside scoop" on how the CGI Commercial Spokesduck is doing, but don't pretend for a minute that your existence has any meaning beyond the next late-night excursion to Taco Bell, ok?

And don't even try to justify your interest in this--this--hell, I don't even know WHAT this is.  Your willingness to wallow in the muck of time-sucking Nothing would amaze me, if it didn't make me so damned sad.

Didn't these guys used to open for INXS?

I have to admit that I actually enjoyed the idea of a group of wannabee teen heartthrobs/American Idols composing and singing a 30-second song about a new, improved blood glucose meter.

I especially enjoyed the "Twenty-three percent more accuracy feels so right" line.  Well, yes, of course it does. Goes without saying.  And "you're the one I love!"  Naturally.  "I love you, electronic device used to let me know how well I'm managing my potentially life threatening health issue!"  What could be more clear?

And it's just so easy to imagine these adorable kids prancing around a stage getting the crowd into a song celebrating the new ease with witch diabetics can check their sugar levels.  I see lighters and jumping up and down and screams of "encore," don't you?

I mean, it feels so right!

Earth to Ace: This isn't rocket science....

Let's make this brief.  In fact, that's basically my advice to your ad team:  Make it brief.  Tell us what your product is, why it's something we can't live without, and where we can buy it.  Then move on- and let US move on.

Every once in a while, a company discards the 31-seconds-or-less rule which is supposed to rule Advertising Land in a country dominated by people with Attention Deficit Disorder.  I don't know why- if I find myself on a fourth or fifth paragraph of commentary, I stop typing and start editing.  And if I know there is a limit to how much of my grumpy snark people are willing to read, why can't more companies figure out that we don't want to see a fricking sitcom situation where we expected to see an Ad?

Simply put:  A really stupid idea does not improve with length.  Watching even an entire minute of this crud is like trying to politely listen to a six year old recite the Gettysburg Address.  It's about as entertaining as getting a tooth pulled- in slow motion.

I'm going to be kind of mean here.  If you sat through the entire three minutes of this stupid, Not In The Least Bit Funny junk, you either desperately need to get a life, or you are an incredibly lazy twat who couldn't find the remote because it was wedged halfway up your butt as you were splayed on the couch.  Please don't tell me you sat through it because you "wanted to see how it turned out."  Leave embarrassing stuff like that for the YouTube comment page, where NOTHING is too embarrassing.

And please, if you really DID watch this whole thing and actually enjoyed it, PLEASE keep that opinion to yourself and don't contact ACE to report it.  Because if you do, next thing you know three-minute commercials become the standard and the distance between me and my sanity gets much, much longer.

Another Deranged Lunatic with Online Access, a Credit Card, and no obvious reason for Living

So this woman's entire life is shopping.  Oh wait, no- she does go to the gym.  But other than that, it's shopping.

Her day doesn't even START until she's gone to Haute Look.  And it's made very clear to us very quickly that this woman lives to buy clothes online.  Sometimes, she "changes up the look" of the guy who makes All This Possible (one of them has to work for a living, right?)  But mostly it's all about buying Stuff for Herself.  From Haute Look.

Sometimes, there are simply no words to describe the disgust I feel for the zombies who waltz their way through ads like this.  Here's a giddy shopaholic who carefully spaces out her clothes shopping so it's something she can do everyday.  Here's her enabling husband, who saw something in this horrible excuse for a human being once, a long long time ago, but now is too busy trying to keep up with her insane spending habits to think about those good old days.  Here's their house, which will be featured on an episode of Buried Alive maybe two seasons from now.

Nope, can't think of any original way to describe this mess.  Anyone care to take a shot?

Does it work on Eyes and Ears?

I'm never going to be a parent to one of these little human things, so maybe I shouldn't be passing judgement right and left on TV parents, but I can't help but think that the guy playing the "parent" in this ad maybe should have put off impregnating his partner for a SECOND time until he had at least the rudiments of the whole parenting thing down a little better than he does.

I think the "dad" here is a total dick for ignoring his Older Child's desperate attempts to get his attention, shrugging him off again and again so he can continue to talk to Breeder Dad No. 2.   Maybe someone was hurt and Older Child wanted to tell him about it.  Maybe Older Child threw up and now feels feverish.  Maybe Older Child just ate something that a Strange Man NOT inclined to ignore him has been offering to the other neglected kids in the Park for Stupid Daddies and Their Equally Stupid Daddy Friends Who Naturally Are Also Daddies.  No matter- Stupid Daddy is talking now, buddy.  Shut up until Daddy's Much More Important conversation is over.

Kids usually act like clueless, annoying little squeak toys in these ads (and in real life, too) but it seems to me that the little boy in this commercial is doing exactly the right thing- he's politely trying to get Daddy's attention.  He's not walking around the house carrying his sloshing potty so he can "show mommy what he did" (see archives.  Groan.)  He's not announcing that he "went potty" and then encouraging his parent to go find where he thought "potty" was (again- see archives.  Double Groan.)

The result is that the Kid in this commercial, unwilling to ask Strange Man Not Inclined to Ignore Him to take on the role Daddy is supposed to play and bring him to a restroom, stands there and fills his pants.  And because he's too old to be wearing diapers, this probably also means that his fun day in the park with Daddy is over, and it's time to be washed as best as Daddy can manage before being bundled up in the car and brought home to Mommy, who for all her faults at least understands that having a Second Kid doesn't mean that you are now entitled to completely ignore the First Kid.  And that believing that Daddy could actually manage to take care of two of his own kids at the same time was every bit as stupid as it sounded when it first entered her brain.  Lesson learned.