CitiBank again captures the spirit of the times

We've all been here, haven't we? Our Precious Ryan had a hard time learning French, so his mommy did the only natural thing- sent him to France for school! Of course, I mean, what else would she do? Hire a (snigger, condescend) TUTOR?

And it worked out so well- when Our Ryan decided he wanted to make an impulse buy, Mommy was able to instantly transfer funds to his account via CitiBank. Oh thank goodness THAT crisis was averted quickly. We all know what a pain it is to get much "needed" funds into the pockets of our pathetically over-indulged children now don't we?

When this kid isn't enjoying the almost unlimited determination of his parents to give Their Precious Ryan each and every little thing he happens to want at the moment, he's being distracted by cute girls in class- girls who can smell "mommy's Citibank Account" in the pockets of pampered little American snots from a mile away.

"I hope the language barrier isn't too much of a problem" muses Mommy (or something like that- please don't make me watch this again to confirm.) Oh don't worry, Mommy- I'm sure that Ryan will pick up enough words to get himself in the sack before he crashes through your Available Credit Ceiling, if in fact you even have one.

I don't know what I hope for more as a sequel to this disgustingly clueless ad, which simultaneously asks us to appreciate Mommy's electronic apron strings AND her son's willingness to take advantage of her Anything For Our Ryan attitude. Is it Precious Ryan coming back home with an adorable new French Grandchild for Mommy? Is it the pampered little prick arriving back in the US harboring a delightfully European social disease (I'm sure the required shots can be purchased via credit card, and they DO have an awesome health care system over there.)

No, I'll go with Ryan deciding to follow his cute new girlfriend to a quaint little hostel in the Carpathian Mountains, where he learns that Mommy's Citibank card won't save him from three days of brutal torture at the hands of millionaire psychotics, ending with his entitled little head being used as a soccer ball. Hey, it could happen. I saw it in a movie once.