"Oh, no big deal. That's just the sound of you selling your soul for five seconds on tv."

The YouTubers just love this insulting crap.  Really- just check the comments.  Can't get enough of people making total asses of themselves for the chance to be on television for a few seconds making any sane human being dive for the mute button.

I had to watch a version of this commercial at least two dozen times during a Sunday afternoon baseball game.  Screeching.  Horrible sound effects.  People who might as well have been waving I'M A MORON WITH ABSOLUTELY NO SHAME for a commercial created for a company which might as well install a WE HAVE NO RESPECT FOR OUR CUSTOMERS neon sign in their waiting areas.

Oh, but the YouTubers adore this. Because the YouTubers are all eight year old boys who went back for extra paint chips.  Morons.

Warning: This Ad may be used to induce vomiting

"We've noticed that every once in a while, you stop watching tv, even though modern technology has made it possible to view All Your Favorite Shows anytime, anywhere!  Well, we're going to do our best to encourage you to never, ever stop watching tv with this new offer combining something new called Viggle and something 'old' called DirectTV!

"Here's how it works!  Just never stop gazing at whatever version of the idiot box you most like using to suck every last brain cell out of your head and avoid human contact!  Do a little rubbing and scrolling and texting and replying as you waste what's left of your sorry-ass 'life" gazing at crap movies, tv shows and games and we'll reward you with money you can use for more electronic gizmos which - what do you know!- allow you to spend even MORE time allowing your body to atrophy into pudding as you absorb more and more media into your overly-stimulated yet dim as swamp water brain!"

"Tell your friends, if you still have any that are more than numbers on your Facebook counter, about this awesome service and get even more money and more points which can be used for more data and more wasted time, you worthless, easily-manipulated, mouth-breathing, couldn't-use-your-brain's-wattage-to-operate-a-keyring-light couch potato loser!"

Obesity is an epidemic.  I can't IMAGINE why.

The Best Health System in the World, if you don't count all the other countries...

In July 2003, I was sitting in my car waiting to be waved through a construction site at 8:30 in the morning when I was suddenly struck from behind by a drunk driver who didn't notice that the traffic light was being voided by a police officer directing traffic.  That drunk driver (who was also driving on a suspended license) slammed into my car while traveling at approximately 25 MPH- the force knocked me into the intersection and to within a foot of the cop, who shook his head and announced into his walkie-talkie "we'll need an amubulance, some guy with his head up his ass just caused an accident."

I went to the hospital in that ambulance, as my spine felt like it had been twisted into a knot.  There I was told that the drunk driver who hit me while on a suspended license also (surprise, surprise) didn't have any insurance.   Yeah, he was a real winner, that one.  I needed several months of therapy that my insurance paid for (after a lawsuit, but that's another story,) and that brings me to the reason for this blog post.

One part of my therapy was the use of a TENS unit- a little briefcase thing which included a machine that would send electric shocks into the small of my back while clipped to my belt.  I had to put down a $200 deposit for the machine, which was available only with a prescription, despite the fact that it consisted entirely of sticky pads and wires and a box which directed about the same amount of electricity as your average Sony Walkman.

When my therapy ended, I went online and discovered something very interesting- I could buy a TENS unit from any number of pharmacies in England for about $30, no prescription required.  I bought one, to deal with occassional flare-ups of back pain (unlike most Americans I see in commercials, I would rather not pop Tylenol every few hours or even an Aleve every freaking day I have back pain.  I kind of like my liver.  I'm funny that way.)

Well, look who's finally caught up.  Now you can buy a cheap, probably very temporary version of the TENS unit which has been sold over the counter in the UK for more than a decade, and I'm sure it's going to be a very popular idea because hey look here's Shaq selling it.  I bet Icy Hot's version doesn't last one-tenth as long as the $30 unit I bought in 2004 (it would be hard to tell, because mine STILL works.)  But this is just another example of how Capitalism triumphs in the US-- YEARS after a simple but effective device which (need I remind you?) does not require drugs with awful side effects was made available across the pond, we finally get to buy our own crappy Icy Hot version ($41.99 at my local CVS) in our own Grocery-But-Also-Drug stores.  And because this is America and all, our disposable version will be occupying landfills everywhere while those European TENS units just keep on working.  Just like mine.

Maybe we were just waiting for Shaq to say it was ok?

Acura does it their way. And we hate Acura all the more for it

"Their way" means taking an intensely overrated song from 400 years ago and mutilating it into an ear-bleeding, garbled mess we wouldn't recognize except for the somewhat familiar tune and using it to narrate a bunch of engineers ripping up and reassembling a car so that it looks-- just like every other freaking car on the road.

Making this whole experience not only a horrible waste of time, but a lie.  There's nothing special about this Acura.  There's nothing that makes it stand out from all of the other LookAtMeMobiles out there.  It's just another luxury car.  Hell, even the commercial isn't all that different from the others- just slightly more obnoxious in it's "look at we did aren't we awesome"-ness.   And just a little more likely to make us keep the remote with it's very friendly mute button handy.

Another stupid, pointless toy for vapid losers with way too much money

Know how commercials are kind of supposed to convince us exactly why we really need, or at least would really enjoy, the product being offered for sale?  Well, how does this ad come even close to pulling that off?

I mean, I guess if some woman finds herself married to a bored jackass who wants to pull his jogging outfit from 1975 out of the storage area in the attic, climb on to the roof of the garage, and try to throw a basketball through a hoop in the driveway, then yeah, you might want one of these things. Especially if you want to replay one part of it again and again and again with the rub of a finger.

But really, how many people out there really fit that description?  First of all what this guy is doing--- this is something I'd expect to see understimulated kids who have run out of ideas for wasting summer vacation do- and get yelled at by their parents for doing.  Second, if I were this woman I'd be too busy being embarrassed and apologetic to the neighbors to be actually filming my dumbass of a spouse.  I'd also be too busy yelling at him to get his fool ass off the garage roof and find something productive to do, the freaking knob.  Of course, this being 2014, it's far more likely that these hillbillies are proudly posting hubby's little stunt on Youtube in no time- and that it's getting 100,000 "likes" and a comments such as "LOL that is awesome I wanna do that" because YouTubers....well....

Meanwhile- anyone in this neighborhood trying to sell their house on this day?  Sorry, you are out of luck.

Oscar Mayer doesn't take pollution very seriously

Just one question- does it come with it's own designated landfill?

Twenty-five years ago I was stacking "Lunchables," Oscar Mayer's 90s version of it's Very Little Food Surrounded by a Lot of Plastic, at a Wegman's in upstate New York.  "Lunchables" at that time consisted of about eight crackers, eight slices of pre-sliced cheese, and a square of pressed ham you'd expect to see being dished out in some dystopia/crapsack world movie like "Divergent."

As it turns out, Oscar Mayer wasn't kidding- they don't like "fads" over there.  Here's the proof- Snackables for "adults" who have no more economic sense or social conscience than their parents did back in the 90s.  A handful (almost) of nuts, an ounce or two of cheese, and "meat" (not even named in this commercial- just to be safe, I guess- and because it's spoken you can't see the quotation marks around the word "meat.....")  I can totally see 5-6 of these providing a nice energy burst for the truly active guy.  Oh, and with a super-hip name: P3.  I guess that's "Protein 3," for the three ingredients- except it leaves out the Fat, Salt, and Preservatives that make up most of what's in the package.

And speaking of the package- again, the more things change, the more they stay the same.  Here's about six ounces of food wrapped in eight ounces of plastic that will still exist when the sun goes supernova.  Thanks, Oscar Mayer.  Twenty-five years later, you're still part of the problem.

(Oh, and BTW- smug doofus eating this junk? You'd be far better off doing any of those "stupid" things you are sneering at, including guzzling that protein drink, than popping that fatty, salty junk.  And you'd be doing the world a favor, too.  Not that you look like you're in to that kind of thing.)

Quick Message to Taco Bell

Proving that you can make a commercial as vapid and just plain dumb as any McDonald's ad doesn't make me want to eat your grease-infused, calorie-dense yet nutrient-deficient junk any more than I want to eat the lard-based crap being served up by McDonald's, ok?

In one version of this ad which I could not find, the group is asked "why do you get  burritos at Taco Bell" or something like that.  There's a long pause, until the Oldest and Widest Amongst Them quips "you don't go to a burger place to get sushi."  His fellow losers are so impressed by this example of Old Guy Wit that they break into laughter.  No kidding. Find the ad.  See for yourself.

(Personally, if I want Actual Mexican Food, I don't go NEAR Taco Bell.  My guess is that quip wouldn't make it into the final commercial.)

Now you can tell these attention-starved losers who were cursed with unfortunate names by their parents to go home and live down their appearance in this god-awful commercial.  We're done.

An Open Letter to Wendy's

The ad campaign with this woman really, really needs to be over now.  Because you didn't just jump the shark with this crap- you jumped it, turned the boat around, and jumped it again, practically daring us to toss bricks (or pretzel-roll burgers, whichever is less edible) through our TV screens.

Flo and Jan are bad enough, but at least they have the excuse of actually working for the companies they are forever praising to the heavens.  The Wendy's girl doesn't work at Wendy's.  There's no reason for her obsession with the company or it's food.  I didn't want to see her eating every single meal at Wendy's.  I sure as hell don't want to see her singing about the place- let alone singing a freaking love song to a particular sandwich.  I'm sure this is supposed to be kind of funny.  It's not.

Let's move on, Wendy's.  This woman is not getting her own sitcom.  She's had lots of exposure and the networks have responded with a collective yawn.  This blogger is also responding with a yawn- and an "enough, already."  Jeesh, I don't think the Aflac Duck is as Played as this horrible woman is.

Let her go.  Flo and Jan will be along in the very near future, god willing.  But this chick needs to be shown the exit.  Now.

The little frosted mini wheat guy is the most believable part of this ad

Yeah, thank goodness you eat your frosted mini wheats, lady- it allows you to get all the complicated coffee orders from the over-indulged upper-class dicktards right on the first try.  It also allows you to work faster faster FASTER, which makes you a real asset to the owner of this coffee shop, who might someday actually reward you with a fifty cent per hour raise.  Welcome to Capitalism 101, where Lesson #1 is learning that the reward for hard work is generally....more hard work.

Oh, but she lives in this beautiful house with lots of naturally light streaming in from her front yard garden.....hmmmmm.....methinks someone in Ad Land has no clue what these coffee monkeys bring home in their weekly paycheck.  This woman has a husband who makes real money but doesn't give her any of it, forcing her to take on a part-time job to earn pocket change, or she's sharing that house with about four other people, all of whom earn more than she does.

It's almost scary to imagine that the good people at Kellogg's might actually believe that this is how "barristas," waitresses, grocery store clerks, etc. live.

Point of Personal Privilege- For Glenn Beck, it's all about the taxes

For those of you who are blessedly unfamiliar with this smooth-talking Lonesome Rhodes reincarnation, Beck is a guy who was Fox's biggest star for a few years with his own late-afternoon cable show until he got too insane even for that network (there are times when Beck makes Alex Jones seem sensible, to let you know how truly nuts he can be.)  Now he peddles "love and understanding" in a sing-song voice when he isn't calling the President a racist Communist and urging his listeners to stock up on gold and "food insurance."   He tells "thoughtful" little stories featuring dramatic pauses you could drive a truck through which I guess is supposed to make him sound deep, or something.

Anyway, the reason for this particular blog post:  I happened to stumble on to Beck's morning radio program today while he was discussing the subject of taxes.  He mentioned that the winner of the World Series of Poker (yeah, there really is such a thing) received a grand prize of $9.2 million " but because he lives in Denmark, which has a very high income tax, he walked away with only $2.5 million."

Beck:  "Now, if you want to live in a country like that- I sure don't!- Bernie Sanders and the Socialists are ready to have that all set up for you."

Meanwhile, the second-place winner received a prize of $5.8 million, "but because he lives in Russia, he only paid $700,000 in taxes.  After taxes, he walked away with more than twice as much money as the guy who beat him!"

Strongly implied by Glenn Beck:  Russia is better than Denmark.  Life expectancy in each country?  Education and literacy levels?  Quality of life? Actual free elections?   Irrelevant.  Russia has lower taxes.  Russia is better, because Russia has lower taxes.

And here's the punchline, as far as I'm concerned:  I'm pretty sure that the average Beck listener makes about $40,000 per year.  Which means their taxes are historically very low, regardless of what Beck tells them and what (therefore) they think about their tax burden.  Yet, I am sure that 90 percent of his listeners were just as horrified as Beck at the thought of a poor, put-upon poker player "earning" only $2.5 million- more than any of them will make in a lifetime- after taxes.  Talk about misplaced sympathy.  Maybe they should send that poor Danish poker player some gold or dried food or a ticket to Russia or- hey, I know!- one of these nifty safes!

"The best part was when our relationship finally became legal!"

"You've always made a great team.  It's been that way since the day you met."

Yeah, that day you decided that she was very "mature for her age"  and that she could "keep a secret," at least until she hit the age of consent.

Come on.  I can't be the only person out there who's noticed that practially all of these Cialis commercials feature guys married to women who are at least fifteen years younger than they are.  I guess it's nice that these guys want to keep their trophy wives satisfied, but jeeesh.....

InfinityQ50- when paying attention is just not your top priority

There's a longer version of this ad out there which features this guy avoiding about six accidents because his car is doing the driving for him- noting other cars in his blind spot, braking, nudging him back into his lane- as the doofus "driver" (more like "passenger") muses at how close he just came- again- to doing some serious damage to his LookAtMeMobile, and maybe killing a few less fortunate people in the process.

Hey, Euro trash with the requisite three-day growth that makes us hate you even more than we already would- instead of forever reflecting on how nice it was that your car kept saving your life (and ours,) how about putting the smug self-satisfaction on the shelf for a while and, I don't know, just PAY ATTENTION TO THE FREAKING ROAD?  Because I'd rather not have my survival depend on all of those freaking electronics working perfectly, each time.  I'd like a Plan B- you keeping your freaking eyes open and brain focused on what's going on around you.  Too much too ask?  Then sit in your driveway in your ridiculous car.  Hey, the neighbors will still see it and know you are Better Than Them- and that's all that really counts, right?

Seriously, I'd share my data with this woman any day

If I were the guy in this ad, I would ask this woman two things-

1.  "I'm all by myself, why are you offering me a plan suitable for four people?  Why do you just assume that guys of a certain age have wives and kids who also own phones?  Is it because you offer the exact same plan to everyone who walks in here, whether it's one person, or a family, or a realty business?  Is it illegal to offer a single person a decent deal on cell phone service?"*

2.  "How'd you like to have dinner?" Because seriously, I don't mind these ads all that much because this woman is awfully cute.  Not like Flo or that horrid Wendy's woman- they can drop off the face of the Earth anytime and I wouldn't miss them for a moment.

*Apparently, it is.  All of the half-decent offers are for people who want Phones for Four with Data Plans to Share.  You are a single person who just wants a phone and a decent data plan for a reasonable cost for yourself?  Good luck finding that.  You're going to need it.

NexGard- because horrible side effects aren't just for humans anymore

This medication helps protect your dog from fleas or heartworm or something  (I guess, I don't really know, I'm not watching this more than once, and I don't own a dog so I don't care all that much) but may also lead to your dog suffering from bad breath, bouts of vomiting, lack of energy, depression and suicidal thoughts, etc.  Ok I kind of made up those last two.

Anyone else get the impression that every drug invented since the mid-1990s has exactly the same side effects?

And isn't it just like us humans, to make the decision for the animals we've bred into absurd shapes and sizes that it's best they take these yummy chewable pill things so they don't have one problem, but have a host of other problems instead.  Best for whom?  Why, our little shmuggums (we love you so MUCH yes we DO) precious little animals, of course!

But anyway, like I said, I don't own a dog.  Or a cat (and this drug has NOT been determined to be suitable or effective on cats, lucky them.)  Nor do I want to.  I find the whole animals-in-the-house-on-purpose thing to be really, really overrated.  And I sure as heck can find better things to spend my money on besides prescription drugs that will make some helpless animal even sorrier it's owned by me.

Maybe five seconds was left on the cutting room floor?

The laughing guy- "Corey M."- in this ad suggests that something funny just happened, but no matter how many times I watch this nothing lump of a commercial, I don't hear or see anything remotely funny.  Just a spokeschoad explaining his company's suggestion for promotional currency to exactly one person.  Huh?

I mean, something got cut, right?  This whole ad wasn't really a Burger King zombie introducing a mushroom cheeseburger by suggesting a reworked five-dollar bill, was it?  Because that's not anything at all. It's beyond lame, even by Burger King standards.

So what the hell?

Nobody likes to pay taxes. But don't expect sympathy when "don't like to" turns into "so I didn't"

"Tired of the IRS calling you, liens on your home and garnishments of your paycheck?"

Here's a plan:  pay your freaking back taxes, you fricking leach.  This poor high school teacher (who, before landing a job as a high school teacher, stacked yogurt and milk at a Wegman's at night while subbing for other teachers during the day-in short, has never had any money, ever)-has managed to do it all his life.  Don't give me the Woe-is-me-look-my-head-is-in-my-hands-what-do-I-do look.  Don't tell me you need "help" from TaxMasters* or Wall and Associates or Roni Deutsch* or any other As Seen On TV carnival barkers because you've got this big tax bill and you just don't wanna pay it 'cause gosh look how big it is.  If you owe back taxes and penalties it's because you haven't been doing your legal duty, scumbag.

Don't look for someone to reduce your taxes for you.  Why should your taxes be reduced?  Why do we want to set this precedent- "avoid paying your taxes for a long time, let the bill balloon to a ridiculously large amount, don't worry, because then you can cut a deal and pay a lot less than you would have if you had been paying all along?"  F---K THAT.  Pay.  Your Freaking.  Taxes. 

*good luck, because these scammers have been out of business for quite some time, and are a little too busy warding off lawsuits to take your call right now.  Sorry.

I'd like a rush job on that parachute repair too, please

My Father-in-Law once helped me change a tire.  He did it really, really fast.  It was just before I drove 400 miles to visit my parents.  Just before I got to my destination, the tire he changed really, really fast started to make a horrible sound.  It was falling off.  He's dead now so I'll never know for sure, but I've always been kind of convinced that if his daughter had been taking the trip with me, he would have been a bit more careful when tightening those lug nuts.

A couple of years ago I brought my car to Sears to buy a new tire.  They put the new tire on pretty fast (for Sears.)  Two days later, I heard a weird rumbling noise from that side of the car.  A few minutes later, I heard a horrible loud noise and had to pull over- my tire was halfway off. 

Last year I brought my tire in to a Jiffy Lube and because they were offering a deal, I let them go ahead and rotate my tires (which I personally think is almost as big a scam as oil changes every 3000 miles, but I'm no mechanic.)  Within a few weeks four of the lug nuts had vanished. 

Here's my point- getting new tires I would think is kind of like having a bone set or brain surgery.  You want the person doing it to take. Their. Time.  Because after all, the stakes are kind of high, even if the person involved isn't me.

Buy this and never, ever have a conversation about anything ever again

I can kind of understand why the doofus kid pops in to interrupt a pretty stupid argument between two total strangers rather inexplicably watching a PG-13-rated movie on a huge screen at an airport.  I mean, the two guys here are being pretty obnoxious and like I said it's a stupid argument- who gives a flying damn which lousy X-Men movie it is?  Aren't they all interchangeable anyway?

Still, I can't help wondering why this kid, who looks like he's about eight years old, has this expensive tricked-out phone.  And where the hell are his parents?  And who is the other kid- his sister?  Or another total stranger who also wasn't taught not to talk to people you don't know and who also doesn't have parents?

And when was it decided that technology should be geared toward nipping all questions and arguments and other conversations in the bud as rapidly as possible?  No one need have a discussion concerning any matter of trivia or history or music or movies or ANYTHING because hey, let's just ask our freaking know it all phones.  So much for conversation starters- these phones are conversation MURDERERS.  Don't argue.  Don't debate.  Just Get The Answer and go back to being socially isolated nitwits with fancy phones.  Ugh.

This commercial struck a particular nerve with me because it reminded me of one of the sweetest experiences of my life.  Since this is my blog, I'll share:  In 1984, I was taking Amtrak back to Vermont from college for Christmas vacation.  A very pretty girl sat down next to me and asked if she could listen to my Walkman, since her batteries were dead.  She listened to my music and we struck up a conversation which lasted about six hours (eventually the batteries on my Walkman went dead, too.)  We didn't have any Smartphones (or phones at all) or Tablets anything else to create bubbles around each other, so we talked and talked.  She fell asleep for a while on my shoulder, which was also really nice.

When the train approached my stop in Montpelier we exchanged addresses (she was a citizen of Columbia living in Canada) and said goodbye.  We wrote for years but I never saw her again, but I'll never forget that train ride- and I'm convinced that the meeting and conversation would not have happened today, as one or both of us would have been in our electronic cocoons, with no need to seek companionship outside our own little digitial worlds.

Anyway....

Someone explain to me why this technology is necessary, or even a welcome luxury.  Someone explain to me why anyone would run out and buy this because it features an app which identifies the film you are watching so you can more quickly stop talking to a fellow humanoid life form.  On second thought, I take it back- don't try to explain any of this to me.  It's just too damned depressing.

Almost as much fun as throwing your money down a storm drain

1.  It must be a real joy to be in the next cubicle from this woman, don't you think?  It takes her roughly half an hour to get her freaking phone out of her freaking bag.

2.  I've never understood what exactly is "fun" about buying lottery tickets.  Is it the approximately 8 seconds it takes to scratch off that silver stuff to find out you spent $2-$20 on a piece of cardboard?  Why is that fun, exactly?

3.  I bet the laughing ball thing is an App, and if it's not, the YouTube glue-sniffers are begging for it to become one.  I hate this century so very much.

American Home Shield- Because Capitalism isn't F--ng poor people over enough already

"If you don't know what a Home Protection Plan is, you are definitely the kind of gullible sucker we want to talk to."

That's not exactly what the guy in this ad says, but it IS exactly what he means.

I hate these scumbags like poison- people who prey on the most financially vulnerable among us deserve their own little ring of hell.  I"m talking to you, Aaron's- and Rent A Center, and American Home Shield.

I hear these commercials on XM all the time- "you are just one broken refrigerator away from financial disaster.  So you NEED American Home Shield, insurance for your appliances...." but listen carefully to what these lower-than-dirt putrid maggots say in their smooth little pitches- "all COVERED repairs will be paid for when you purchase protection with American Home Shield."

In other words, "All Covered Repairs Will Be Covered."  Oh, and what are "Covered Repairs?"  Simply the repairs American Home Shield chooses to pay for, IF ANY.

And it gets even worse- when you want to file a claim, you have to pay a "service fee" (the radio ad says "of course, a service fee is required for each filed claim"- yes, of COURSE, because everyone knows that when you purchase any kind of insurance and want to actually USE it  you have to pay a filing fee...um....right?)

Who falls for crap like this?  People with no money.  People who live in constant fear that the old refrigerator, washer and dryer, etc. they picked up at the swap meet or second-hand store will fail and they'll be left in the lurch, unable to provide a vital service for their family.  So they shell out several hundred dollars they really don't have for non-coverage, pay a non-refundable  fee they can't afford when it comes time to file a claim,  and get in return a stream of excuses to explain why this particular problem isn't covered, sorry, no refunds.

As if poor people don't have enough problems, there's no end to vulture companies like American Home Shield ready to pick their pockets.  Why is this even legal? Oh yeah- capitalism.  Free Enterprise.  Freedom.  All that crap.

(Here are some reviews from actual American Home Shield customers concerning this business from my favorite website, RipoffReport.com- it seems that when this company DOES honor claims, it employs bottom-feeder incompetents to do crap work to save itself money- what a surprise....490 complaints, most of them very recent, and in a 30-minute survey of the complaints, I have yet to find a single rebuttal from the company or a satisfied customer....)

- http://www.ripoffreport.com/reports/specific_search/American%20Home%20Shield

The Great (but Fading) Cialis-Viagra Mirage

When Viagra, Cialis etc. first hit the market, sales instantly skyrocketed.  Here was a "Magic Pill" and suddenly a problem that nobody realized was endemic was being "solved" by Big Pharma.  Doctors, Psychologists and the media speculated that "ED" was just "one of those things people didn't talk about" and was a much, much larger issue than anyone had imagined, based on the sale of these awesome new drugs.

Then something funny started to happen.  Sales of Viagra and Cialis leveled off, and began to decline.  More and more men failed to bring their prescriptions in for refills.  What was up (no really really bad pun intended?)

Here's the speculation, which I suspect is one hundred percent accurate:  When Viagra and Cialis were introduced, they were marketed as drugs which made Life After Fifty Worth Living.  Their actual medical purpose was blurred in favor of a fantasy- it wasn't really about having sex.  It was the Purple Pill of Youth.  At some point, the men taking this stuff realize that it doesn't actually turn them back into supercharged 18-year old sexual monsters, and the appeal drops off pretty dramatically. (I suspect that meds for "Low T" are currently popular for the same reason, and will soon suffer the same fate.)  A lot of men bought in to this medications not because they have a physical "problem in the bedroom" (to use the twee language) but because they thought it would actually make them look at their sexual partners differently.  When that didn't happen (even when she wore her old college sweater, or rode a bicycle, or insisted on getting her photo taken in a booth or any of the other things that according to the ads are supposed to stimulate sexual urges) they started to wonder "why am I shelling out big bucks for this snake oil?"

Simply put:  Cialis and Viagra are designed to help people who already want to have sex have sex.  But millions of men bought them thinking that they were designed to help people who don't want to have sex, have sex.   When they still didn't feel any strong physical attraction for the aging woman they'd been with for twenty years, they became disappointed and felt cheated- and tossed the empty pill container in the trash.

Thing is, I bet ED is an actual medical condition and medications designed to alleviate it are a godsend to actual victims.  But the makers of these drugs didn't become filthy rich selling them to 40 million ED patients, sorry.  They got rich selling the idea that taking a purple pill would make men see past the wrinkles and sags and envision  the hot little honey they fell in lust with back in the 80s.  Which is kind of dumb when you think about it, considering that right down the street there are stores with unlimited supplies of whisky, all available without a prescription. 

"And don't even get me started on the cost of a decent gardener these days!"

I'm really trying to work up some sympathy for a woman who whines about her cable/phone bill as she takes a freaking hike through her spotless, gleaming-white, cavernous suburban mansion equipped with all the trendy furniture, finest appliances and at least one enormous flat-screen television in each room.  Really I am.

Actually I just wish she would just shut her pampered cake hole and stop trying to convince me that she is really concerned about the price of cable, telephone service, gasoline or anything else.  Next time get a representative from your f---ing cleaning crew to tell us about how Comcast saves money.  Because seriously- from you?  I'm not buying that you've looked at the price tag of anything for at least the past five years, so take your "hey I'm just like you" act and roll it off a cliff in your Lexus SUV, ok?

To Xfinity and beyond? Count me out.

Yesterday, you went into an irritated, impatient snit because you couldn't watch Exactly What You Want Right F--ng Now.  Maybe you turned the TV off and actually talked to your family, played a board game, whatever.  But it all sucked and amounted to a wasted evening, because No TV.

Today, you've got Xfinity so you never have to suffer through another evening like that ever, ever again.  Now you can watch a tv show while DVRing everything being played everywhere, so the phrase "there's nothing on tv, let's read or play a board game or take a walk or just talk" will never, ever be heard in your home because in a month you'll have 3000 hours of --um--- "entertainment"- on that DVR.  Problem solved.  Thank God.

You people are all f--ing zombie losers and when you die, it will be very, very hard to tell.