Hampton Beach: Not the Bahamas. Never claimed to be.

Here's where I'll be- for the 20th year in a row- the first week of August, so I won't be posting again until next Sunday.  Love Hampton Beach while totally agreeing with some of the criticism here- Hampton is not Sandals, it's not the Outer Banks, it's not even Rehobeth.  It's a beach with a tacky boardwalk full of ice-cream, fried dough, cheap pizza and hot dog hole-in-the-wall feeding places, an arcade filled with mostly 80s video games, and $20-per-day parking lots servicing the people who can't afford to rent one of the hundreds of tiny, air conditioning-less houses within walking distance of the sand.

What it is is an affordable vacation for Middle Class and Lower Middle Class families which includes free entertainment (Movies on the Beach Night, Bands on the beach every night) and a big stretch of sand which is usually not super-crowded even on the steamiest days.  Which is good enough for the kind of people who have to save up for a vacation throughout the year but don't want to go into debt for it.

See you in a week!  Enjoy the archives!

Coors Light's "Restless" ad presents an alternate universe

Sure is fun watching the backsides of white people as they move relentlessly- oh, sorry, "restlessly" forward in their steely determination to Do Stuff and Then Drink Beer, isn't it?

Yep, it doesn't get tiring at all seeing several people from the same angle as they move forward by foot, by ship, and by jumping into unfamiliar bodies of water despite it being apparently 40 degrees or so in most of these scenes.  Seriously, did something get lost in translation here?  Are these people actually hiking through winter landscapes just to end up swimming around quarry holes before getting on ferries, stopping along the way to pop open a Coors Light (and perhaps discuss why the producer of this ad couldn't decide what time of year all of this is supposed to be taking place in?)

Anyway, it sure must be nice to be able to slap on a winter hat, toss on a light backpack, and then take a hike through the mountains that ends with Coors Light appearing out of nowhere (along with that suddden warm spell.)  After the swim it's right back to Winter as we take that ferry to Wherever As Long as People Keep Looking at My Back and there's Beer There.

I don't get beer commercials at all, and I don't understand why since they've been exactly the same for decades- "if you're young and adventurous (let's just say 'restless') this is the beer for you."  Just a mental block for me, I guess.

Range Rover Velar demands that we Respect Our Betters

..because I watch baseball games, and apparently somewhere in the audience for baseball games are people who live in gated mansions guarded by Siberian Huskies or White German Shepards or whatever the hell breed of dogs these are (the idiots at YouTube are arguing about it.  No kidding.  Check it out.  Next to desperately "needing" to know the "song" - I think they mean "music," as I don't hear any lyrics- they really, really want to argue about what kind of dogs these are.

Personally, I'm more interested in why I this commercial would make me want to drop 85,000 dollars (no kidding, that's the retail) on a fricking LookAtMeMobile.  Apparently, it's to earn the "respect" of the Perfect White Dogs who guard my f--ng palace.  What were those things going to do if the guy showed up in a mere Audi?  Eat it?

Clearly the message is that when you drive one of these Douchenozzle Delivery Systems, you command "respect."  The respect you think you deserve but apparently don't get enough of despite the ridiculous house guarded by ridiculous dogs.  Respect is all about having an extra $85 Gs hanging around, I guess.

This ad makes those Lexus December to Remember commercials look almost quaint, dont they?

Taco Bell and the Nacho Revolution against brain cells

I get that this is all about Taco Bell kind of snarking on the Hollywood Summer Blockbuster season with this overproduced, self-congratulatory pile of dreck disguised as a commercial for seasoned french fries, but....

All I could really think when watching it was this:  Only in America could a fast-"food" restaurant specializing in cheap, greasy crap find an audience for a fake "movie trailer" focusing on strips of potatoes bathed in hot oil, sprinkled with spices and served up with "Mexican Sauce" (Seriously, what the hell is that anyway?)  And get mouth-breathing losers singing it's praises on YouTube.  Man, are we stupid or WHAT?

Another Xfinity Watch Stuff With Other People Around Ad

Lost in all this nonsense is the fact that we have several adults hanging around some kids' birthday party watching a soccer match on their electronic devices for some reason.  I mean, I can't believe that those costumed people are there for the kids*- they aren't playing with those kids,** they aren't entertaining them in any way, they are just dressed while watching a soccer match.

And those guys wearing Suburban Dad outfits- well, maybe they ARE supposed to be suburban dads, but they can't possibly be the parents of any of the kids here, otherwise they'd be actually supervising or even (gasp) partaking in the fun those kids are having.  So why are they there?  Maybe the signal is really good in this backyard?

Way to waste those precious years while your kids are still kids, Stupid Adults.  "Hey, remember that birthday party where I won the cake-eating contest?"  "Um, no, where was I?" "Oh right, you were watching something on your phone.  Good times, Dad. Good times."

*A mime? Really, Xfinity?

**The douchenozzle "parents" are so absorbed with the soccer match that they can't even be bothered to remind the entertainment that they are being paid to ENTERTAIN and not watch tv?  WTF?

Xfinity's World of Awesome

Welcome to WOW!  Welcome to SMASH! Welcome to OMG DID YOU SEE THAT THING BLOW UP!

Welcome to a world where spending every possible moment of your life watching a screen is not only considered normal, but desirable- and, increasingly, a world you really have to be in if you want to show well for society when society deigns to raise it's head from time to time.

I'm ready to welcome you back into the real, non-fantasy world of actual people doing actual stuff, a world of books and music that don't just pour cotton candy images into your lard-infused brain, but why on Earth would you want to be there?  It's got nothing to do with Awesome, and Xfinity is All About the Awesome.

Oh, and in advance- welcome to Middle Age.  It's where you'll suddenly find yourself when you DO look up.  In Middle Age, and wondering where the hell the best years of your life went.  Let me clue you in- they went into consumption of packaged electronic entertainment.  Oh, and guess what?  They aren't coming back.  Ever.

Toilet Paper and a question about Suburbia

1.  No, nobody on the planet is confusing this toilet paper with a robe.  I know that the people who make this ad realize that and this is just a joke, but it's still a pretty stupid line.

2.  I've lived in the suburbs for more than twenty years.  I have never once seen anyone actually stand on the sidewalk in front of their house wearing a robe and holding a cup of coffee.  Or even just wearing a robe.  Does this ever happen in real life?  And if so, may I ask why?  Is standing in front of all your neighbors wearing a bathrobe and holding a cup of coffee just a privilege of suburban living I've never taken part in, or what?

Audi's Summer of burning bridges and being totally unrelatable

The woman is this ad is openly appreciated at work- not quietly, not behind closed doors in the boss's office, but openly in front of all of her co-workers.

She also makes so much money at her job that she's got the financial security to just quit on a whim, walk down the street, and buy herself an equipped-to-the-gills Audi.

Yeah, I can really relate to this woman.  She goes back to her desk after being publicly congratulated for being such a fine team member, only to notice that she's written "Work at my Dream Company" " on piece of paper which I guess is her bucket list.  She decides that her "Dream Company" doesn't include a place where she's appreciated or very well-paid, so she thanks her boss and her "teammates" by packing up her personal items and quitting because....well, I guess because this isn't her "Dream Company."

She isn't the least concerned about paying her bills, even to the point of immediately dropping $50 grand on an automobile without giving it a second thought.  This is what we all do when we quit our jobs, right?  Go out and buy ourselves very expensive luxury automobiles?

She also isn't at all concerned about getting into that "Dream Company" because she's going to start it herself.  What's this company going to do or produce?  Well, if she's planning to use the expertise she built up in her Not-Dream Company, she might find herself in court- there are these things called "non-competion clauses" in contracts to prevent self-centered, ungrateful douchenozzles from doing exactly what she seems to be planning here. 

She isn't at all put off by the (I know, silly and very remote) possibility that she might not be running her Dream Company TOMORROW and might need to keep picking up a paycheck from an employer for a while, as she's pretty much screwed herself out of a good reference from her ex-employer, as she gave zero notice before quitting.  Hey, Stupid Woman- when you wake up tomorrow and realize that you don't have the seed money to start your Dream Company becaus you sunk it into a showy toy with wheels, you might find it difficult to get hired by one of those awful employers now that you've revealed that you're a flaky, erratic knob who might walk away at any moment?

And yet, I'm totally inspired by all this, Audi.  In a month I'll be in Back to School meetings, going over schedules and IEPs and learning how much more my health insurance is going to cost in the 2018-2019 session.  At some point I'll write "Start My Dream School" on a piece of paper, get up, and walk out without a word of explanation.  I'll head right out to my nearest Audi dealer as the first step toward starting that Dream School.  I'm not going to contemplate right now that it'll probably be the last step, too. 

Ancestry.com's Anthem to Ancestor Worship

The gag-inducing punchline of this awful, self-aggrandizing nonsense is "now I know where my strength comes from."  I mean, seriously, never mind the syrup of Ipecac.  All you'll ever really need is that awful line bleated by this clueless idiot.

So this woman didn't get her strength from her actual PARENTS- you know, the people who raised her and who played an actual, hands-on role in teaching her how to think of herself and deal with the world.  She didn't get her strength from teachers or friends who encouraged her to push through hardships.  OH NO, her strength was passed down THROUGH HER FREAKING DNA because once upon a time a woman who lived far, far away did something that required strength.  Uh huh.

Hey, Stupid Idiot Whose Ancestors Were Obviously Morons (that's where you got THAT from:)  If you actually believe that "strength" is passed down in the freaking gene pool, where did that Awesome Female Tribal Chief get HERS from?  Was it just a mutated gene that originated with HER? I mean, can we be consistent about this for a minute?  What's the gene for strength again?

Oh and hey SIWAWOM, while we're asking questions, where did your amazing ability to misplace credit come from?  Did you have some maternal great-grandmother back in Zimbabwe who regularly thanked the rooster for making the sun come up?  Just asking, because by your own logic, your rock-stupid determination to associate positive character traits with a long-dead ancestor must come from SOMEBODY, right? 

Or maybe you've got the original mutated gene, and in three hundred years some idiot relative of yours will finally understand why she's such a clueless knob - it's because she's got some of your DNA?

I don't get the attraction to any of this.  I "inherited" personality traits from my parents- because I spent a lot of time with them when I was a child, go figure.  How the F--K could I "inherit" a personality trait from someone I never met and didn't know even existed until I inexplicably decided it would be a good idea to send a vial of spit to Lehi, Utah?  Dark hair, sure.  Height, fine.  "Strength?" Freaking gag me.

One more quick note to the stunningly idiotic woman with the wistful "I'm important because someone related to me on the other side of the planet was important once" look on her face:  No, you're not.  Not until YOU actually do something.  And no, obsessing over your ancestry doesn't cut it.  All that proves is that you're stupid with money and really, really full of your non-achieving self.

A good Amtrak Commercial. Don't worry, this won't be a trend.

Back in the 1980s I was a student at The Catholic University of America in Washington, DC and at least once each year I used Amtrak to travel home to Vermont for vacation.  I always traveled coach, and back then Amtrak not only didn't offer WiFi but it wasn't even really great at consistent lighting- if you traveled at night and tried to read you could expect to have the lights go on and off as the rickety train rolled up and down the Northeast Corridor- which means that unless you liked arriving at your destination with an upset stomach and headache, you probably didn't try to read.

And because it was the 1980s, you didn't yak away on your cellphone and neither did anyone else because hey, no cellphones.  You were pretty much out of touch with the world while you were on that train.  And oddly enough, this was ok.

During one trip- I think it was around Christmas- I was sitting in my seat on the train to Vermont when a young woman my age asked to sit next to me.  She introduced herself and we ended up talking for hours.  At one point she fell asleep on my shoulder while using my headphones (oh yeah, we had Walkmans so we had headphones.)  We said goodbye when I exited the train at Montpelier- she was going on to Montreal.  I never saw her again, though we did write for a while. Her name was Astrid.

Anyway, I don't have a problem with this Amtrak commercial at all.  It  looks like these kids are doing what I did on a regular basis almost forty years ago- taking a train home during a break in classes because it's still cheaper than an airplane ticket and can actually be kind of fun if you know how to relax and watch the scenery and enjoy being with fellow human beings.  I don't even mind the selfies, because they aren't being obnoxious about it.  I also like that they aren't constantly on those phones but are actually doing things like talking, daydreaming, taking in the scenery and napping.  It's actually pretty cool.

Ok, back to being a curmudgeon next time.  I promise.

More fun with Grammarly, the BFF of Lazy, Illiterate Twits....

...who don't want own the fact that they are lazy, illiterate twits and actually DO something about it instead of embracing this electronic crutch?

Anyone want to comment on the fact this college student is using Grammarly to write a term paper on "The Power of Words?"

Anyone want to comment on the fact that this college student seems completely incapable of constructing a sentence without resorting to cliche's, buzzwords, or outright plagiarism? 

Will this college student ever admit that if she had been born five years earlier, her college career would have ended in the first semester because she's an illiterate doofus who has no business taking up a seat in a class which should be occupied by an actual student with actual writing skills, or at least someone who is interested in improving her writing skills rather than letting an online editing program do her writing for her?

Anyone else wonder why teachers even bother assigning research papers or any kind of writing that takes place outside the classroom when we've got programs like Grammarly out there?  Unless the student is sitting right in front of you writing in longhand, how do you even know it's her work? 

Is it time to admit that Grammarly is to English skills what the calculator is to Math skills, and that asking people to learn how to write is the modern version of asking them to work out calculations using a pencil and paper?  I mean, in a world where "do research" means "Ask Google," what's the point of even pretending anymore?

I have no idea why Southwest keeps assaulting me with this

Seriously, this ad is running during every commercial break- sometimes twice- sometimes TWICE IN A ROW- of tonight's Red Sox v Blue Jays game.  And I'm pretty sure that no matter how many times it hits me over the head, I still won't understand what exactly is going on here.

I mean, I get the message.  Southwest has high consumer satisfaction ratings.  Great. Cool.  Whatever.  I won't even point out that judging one airline against another in consumer satisfaction is like looking for the tallest dwarf in Narnia these days.  Everyone hates the airlines, and for good reason.  All the domestic carriers suck.  Each and every one.  The internationals?  I have very limited experience there, but no complaints from me.

What I want to know is, what are these stupid grinning idiots grinning stupidly about?  They don't look like they sit on the Board of Directors at Southwest.  They look like stewards and baggage handlers and maybe pilots.  What are they getting so excited about?  And why are they incapable of showing excitement in a realistic, relateable way?  I mean, Jesus- they look like they just won the freaking lottery, not that the airline they happen to draw a paycheck from is more popular than an airline they DON'T work for.  Why does it matter so much to them?

I guess it's probably a good thing that I have never been asked to fill out a customer satisfaction survey by Southwest.  The only time I ever used the airline was in June, 2017 when I had to fly to Tampa.  The flight was fine.  I liked not paying for my bag.  But man oh man did I hate the "pick any seat" strategy.  At least a dozen people in front of me on the line to board the plane were lying about their boarding numbers and cutting in front of people who should have been ahead of them.  Then I get on the plane and NOBODY wants to sit next to ANYBODY- you walk down the aisle and get surly "well I guess you can sit next to me IF YOU MUST" looks.  Very awkward.

Assigned seating, Southwest.  It's not that hard.  Get on it, will you?  And until then, please tell me what the hell these people in your commercials are on, because I want a bottle of it myself.

Oh come down off your cross already!

So I guess everyone this woman knows is sick of her ignoring her nasty red rash which causes her to scratch, or maybe a little sick of her "it's a horrible skin disease that I insist on showing the world by wearing strapless dresses and scratching constantly but just ignore it it's ok" martyr bit.  So one of her friends responds to her "I'm suffering it's ok" drama queen act by whipping out a tablet and showing her a conveniently downloaded ad for Eczema Exposed, or something.

Clearly the friend has more than had enough of the whiny Not Suffering in Silence idiot who thinks that it's perfectly ok to suffer from ugly red itchy skin- and maybe even preferable to actually dealing with it if you can constantly blather about it to everyone you talk to.  She's got her tablet and she's letting the idiot know that there are these things called "doctors" who can offer other things called "treatments" so maybe she should get her tired butt and her played-to-death illness down to the nearest heath care facility and check it out.

Or stop fishing for sympathy like an overgrown baby.  Either way, the friend has put her foot down.  She- and everyone else this woman knows- is done with this nonsense.

BMW + Mission Impossible = Two Sad Trends

1.  Remember when the first time you learned about a new action movie coming out WASN'T when you saw it being used to sell some unrelated product on tv?  I can't, either.  A few years back, I first learned that The Lorax was going to be totally updated and bastardized through a Denny's ad.  More recently, I learned that the Jurrasic Park franchise was going through a reboot through a Dairy Queen commercial.  Are these movies made JUST to provide cross-promotion?

2.  Check out the comments under this ad, if you dare.  The level of brown-nosing is almost impressive.  These guys are literally having orgasms over a car they know nothing about, will never own- hell, will probably never even test-drive.  Why?  Because you can actually pick up a little money squealing like a pig on YouTube comment sections, and shame went extinct decades ago.

Five Hour Energy: Mother's Little Helper comes in a tiny bottle these days....

You COULD stay hydrated and consume a balanced diet with an emphasis on fruits and veggies and lean proteins.

You COULD re-evaluate your schedule and be realistic about what you can get done in the time you have, taking into account that your body needs adequate rest and that the world's wants and "needs" kind of need to respect that- and will, if you make it....

Or, you could ignore your body and chug a little bottle of caffeine with sweeteners.  You'll get a momentary little energy high that will allow you to be productive for a few more hours, and your body will just have to deal with the fact that you used this artificial junk to cover up it's natural warning signs because you're a Superperson after all and You Don't Have Time to be Tired because look at this work you have to do plus your kids want- sorry, "need" you to be at 100 percent all the time.

So pretend that your body is just like your cellphone- with the right addition it can be recharged super-fast with no ill effects.  Just take a swig of this stuff and get back to work, monkey.  Natural vitamins?  Rest?  You sound like your parents- you know, those people who are still active and healthy into their eighties because they understood that it was ok to take a break now and then.  What dopes, huh?

Mila Kunis sitting alone at a bar. Only in a Jim Beam Commercial.

Yeah, it's an invitation.  It's an advertisement, and all advertisements are invitations to purchase something.

So, woman at a bar, if you take advice from coasters, "accept" the "invitation" to buy a glass of whiskey.  Because your coaster has an ad for Jim Beam on it.  And because Mila Kunis encouraged you to before bleating something about "making history."  I don't think I want to know what kind of "history" this woman can make if she drinks a glass of whiskey, but whatever.

Meanwhile, Mila, I've been tossing coins into fountains for years, and we still aren't married yet.  What the hell is that all about?

Or maybe Arnold's Organic Bread Company exists in Fantasyland?

Ok, so this gorgeous young woman has a big, beautiful house with a big, beautiful kitchen where she loves to make and consume sandwiches made with organic bread- and she walks and trains dogs for a living?

I call BS on all that.  This woman is a classic Trophy Wife.  She trains and walks dogs because she likes doing it and she and the old guy she sold herself to agreed she could do that for a few years before she got busy popping out heirs.  Sorry if that sounds overly cynical, but that's the way it is.  Dog trainers don't make Big House, Big Kitchen, Organic Bread Money.  Not in my universe.

(On subsequent reviewings, it appears that this woman is NOT a dog trainer.  She just has a dog.  And a lawn in the suburbs big enough for a garden.  And time to play with her dog and grow tomatoes in that garden.  So the main point still stands- this woman is a Trophy Wife.)

Buick gives me a chance to demonstrate why I don't get invited to baby showers

1.  This woman's only job for the baby shower was to pick up the cake- and she couldn't get the sex of the child right?  Did nobody tell her, or did she hear wrong, or did she not bother to ask?

2.  "You know she's having a boy, right?"  Um, unless she's dropping that cake off at another baby shower before heading to the one you're both going to, she clearly DIDN'T know.  Again, why not?

3.  Is this how it works- when you go to a baby shower and bring a cake and you think that the guest of honor is having a girl, you make sure the cake is pink and has "GIRL" in fake blocks on it?  Why not just blocks of any color which read "HUMAN MAMMAL" or "PERSON?"  Wouldn't that be thinking-outside-the-box clever?  Or at least more clever than pink icing and "GIRL?"

I sure think so.  But I don't go to these things normally.  I'm going to one in a few weeks because my awesome great-nephew will be there and I don't pass up any opportunity to be with that little guy, not even a baby shower.  I'll bring him a set of Hot Wheels, and I'm quite certain he won't care at all what color they are.

Seeking Forgiveness from your Grill, or your Audience?

When the white guy's lounge chair collapses, sending his food sprawling, the immediate reaction of the black guy is to point and laugh.  Because he's an asshole.

The immediate response of YouTube viewers who see this ad is to post how much they love it, because they are assholes who like things they know are supposed to be funny Because Reasons. 

I'm convinced that most viewers have the brains of young house cats who react instantly to shiny objects in the form of cliche'd crap on tv.  Cats react instinctively to laser pointers, dangling string, and mice.  YouTubers react instinctively to people tripping, falling, getting seriously hurt, or just plain being humiliated in a moment of vulnerability. 

So this ad- featuring absolutely nothing more than a guy's chair collapsing causing him to lose his food and then being mocked by another guy ten feet away who actually interrupted his conversation with another human being to do the mocking- is "funny" because.....again, I don't get it.

And I CERTAINLY don't get why this ad is supposed to make me want to buy a grill.  Because it's "forgiving?"  A lounge chair might collapse and force me to get up, clean myself off, and go get some more food.  What can a grill do?  Give me third-degree burns.  How is that "forgiving?"  What does all this even mean?