Did you know that ads for Prescription Drugs used to be illegal in this country? I'd like to see them made illegal again, mainly because while the principal task of ALL commercials is to make you feel crappy about your life and then offer you a solution through the purchase of some product, there seems to be something downright evil in using the same marketing strategy to sell drugs. The constant "suggestion" that you "Ask Your Doctor" about this drug or that if you feel this symptom or that has at it's base nothing more complicated than a desire by Big Pharma to turn this country into an army of pill-poppers constantly harassing their doctors for more. And, of course, turning doctors into well-paid pushers who would rather hand out the drugs and collect the fees (not to mention the junkets to "medical conferences" and free goodies ranging from golf trips to ball-point pens) than actually talk to their patients.
The most recent obnoxious drug ad I've seen is one for something called "Pristiq." It features a truly creepy-looking, pink-cheeked doll with a massive windup key attached to it's back. A woman tells us that "every day, it was as if I had to wind myself up to get myself going." (Shot of doll being wound, and then slowly walking across a table, sad look on face, arms moving back and forth slightly, and quickly winding down.) "Then I'd have to wind myself up again." (Repeat scene of creepy doll taking tiny steps across the table.)
Narrarator tells us that we should "ask our doctor about Pristiq." What's Pristiq? One of a dozen or so prescription medications designed to treat Depression. How does it work? Well, this is interesting- we are told that "Pristiq MAY work by...." followed by the industry-standard cartoon graphics suggesting that the movement of little pink and blue squares from one synaps to another limits the effects of depression, or something. So it seems that the manufacturer doesn't know, either.
But back to that doll. Now the woman has a slight smile on her face, and so does the doll (I don't want a doll that changes moods along with me. I'm happy with my portrait in the back room.) The doll marches across the picnic table, and the woman just stares at it with this insipid half-grin. In the background, her husband and children are playing happily, and they interrupt this woman's Doll Time by running to No Longer Depressed Mommy.
I don't want to make light of Depression- I know more about it than I'm willing to discuss here- but maybe one problem this woman was having was that she was spending way too much time playing with the Most Depressing Toy Ever Invented. Seriously- a doll with a massive key in it's back, which takes tiny steps when wound? Yeah, that's a better choice than YOUR HUSBAND AND CHILDREN, WHO ARE RIGHT THERE! Cripes, poking a dead squirrel with a stick would be less depressing than this doll.
At least those sad floating heads in the Zoloft commercials have an obvious excuse for being depressed- THEY DON'T HAVE BODIES. But this woman is just bringing it on herself with that stupid doll.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
A Totally Incomprehensible Heineken Ad
Two guys are being lead to their seats in the nosebleed section of an basketball arena. Just before they can sit down, some dope jumps up and knocks the tray of beers out of one guy's hand, drenching their seats. "No problem" says the guy to the usher. "Don't sweat it."
The usher is enormously impressed with the coolness of these two guys, who are apparently about to take their seats without even asking him to, I don't know, towel off the massive puddle of beer that now occupies them. (There's no word from the guy who knocked the beers over, either- apparently he's gone right back to watching the game, without so much as a "pardon me," let alone an offer to replace the beers.) How impressed IS the usher? Enough to mutter "you know what? Follow me" and lead the guys to seats right on the court.
Before we move on, let's analyze this sequence of events thus far. Guys get their beer spilled, and don't make a fuss over it. Their reward is to be taken from the cheap seats to the floor level- and handed seats that are reserved for VIPs like Jack Nicholson and which retail for thousands of dollars. Because they are cool with getting their beer spilled. Riiiiiiiiiiggght.
Tag line- "Enjoy the Upgrade."
Then we get the commercial's Happy Conclusion- a leggy beer girl offers the guys bottles of Heineken Light. They sure look like glass bottles. Glass bottles on the floor of an NBA game- oh sure, I can't see any danger inherent in that. Not at all. Why not offer the guys spiked shields to hold in front of them during the action, too?
And finally- Eva Longoria asks them to hand her a bottle of Heineken. So, the leggy beer girl is just standing there after the guys got their beers? The leggy beer girl isn't willing to walk over to Eva Longoria to offer her a beer?
Well, whatever. Let's never mind the choad who spills the beer and doesn't offer word one of apology. Let's ignore the leggy beer girl with the glass bottles. Let's instead focus on the utterly logic-bending idea that an USHER at an NBA GAME has the authority to hand two dopes in the nosebleed section two seats reserved for CEOs, Oscar nominees, or stars of the music industry. I'm so sure that this happens in real life without serious money being exchanged. I'm so sure that ushers are always handing these seats to nameless working-class stiffs on a whim. Jesus, at least show us one of these guys sticking a few hundred-dollar bills into the usher's jacket pocket before he leaves. I mean, come on, Heineken.
At least give us a sequel, where Spike Lee shows up and wants to know why these two white guys are sitting in his seats.
The usher is enormously impressed with the coolness of these two guys, who are apparently about to take their seats without even asking him to, I don't know, towel off the massive puddle of beer that now occupies them. (There's no word from the guy who knocked the beers over, either- apparently he's gone right back to watching the game, without so much as a "pardon me," let alone an offer to replace the beers.) How impressed IS the usher? Enough to mutter "you know what? Follow me" and lead the guys to seats right on the court.
Before we move on, let's analyze this sequence of events thus far. Guys get their beer spilled, and don't make a fuss over it. Their reward is to be taken from the cheap seats to the floor level- and handed seats that are reserved for VIPs like Jack Nicholson and which retail for thousands of dollars. Because they are cool with getting their beer spilled. Riiiiiiiiiiggght.
Tag line- "Enjoy the Upgrade."
Then we get the commercial's Happy Conclusion- a leggy beer girl offers the guys bottles of Heineken Light. They sure look like glass bottles. Glass bottles on the floor of an NBA game- oh sure, I can't see any danger inherent in that. Not at all. Why not offer the guys spiked shields to hold in front of them during the action, too?
And finally- Eva Longoria asks them to hand her a bottle of Heineken. So, the leggy beer girl is just standing there after the guys got their beers? The leggy beer girl isn't willing to walk over to Eva Longoria to offer her a beer?
Well, whatever. Let's never mind the choad who spills the beer and doesn't offer word one of apology. Let's ignore the leggy beer girl with the glass bottles. Let's instead focus on the utterly logic-bending idea that an USHER at an NBA GAME has the authority to hand two dopes in the nosebleed section two seats reserved for CEOs, Oscar nominees, or stars of the music industry. I'm so sure that this happens in real life without serious money being exchanged. I'm so sure that ushers are always handing these seats to nameless working-class stiffs on a whim. Jesus, at least show us one of these guys sticking a few hundred-dollar bills into the usher's jacket pocket before he leaves. I mean, come on, Heineken.
At least give us a sequel, where Spike Lee shows up and wants to know why these two white guys are sitting in his seats.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Wow, I feel so Honored!
There are several different radio commercials out there selling products which sound the same and promise to do exactly the same thing- Hydrolyze, Hydroclean, Hydroxodine--- and all their commercials are just awful. One script for Hydroxodine was recently purchased by Rosetta Stone, with the words (a "conversation" between a skeptical caller and a "helpful" operator) tweaked only slightly to sell a language program instead of facial cream. But a recent commercial for one product, Hydrolyze, especially irritates me because it seems to be offering some exclusive deal to only certain types of people, when in fact it's just offering the same chance to purchase their product to everyone willing to call their toll-free number.
The announcer tells us that "if you have bags under your eyes, or dark circles from blood pooling under the skin, you're eligible to participate in a free trial of Hydrolyze!" Hey, I've got bags under my eyes, and ocassional dark circles- so I'm eligible! Yay! And just in case I'm not sure, the word "participate" is used no less than FIVE TIMES during the commercial. Sounds like some kind of university study looking for volunteers to test their product for FREE, right? In fact, participants in this kind of study are usually PAID to try it. Count me in!
Oh, but wait: How, in fact, does one go about "participating" in this "free trial?" Turns out that if you call their 800 number, the Operator will take down your credit card number and your address, and you'll receive a starter kit for Hydrolyze for free- you just pay shipping and handling. And if after thirty days you aren't satisfied with the results, you can just send it back at your expense. If you don't send it back, you'll get MORE Hydrolyze in the mail- conveniently charged to your credit card, of course. And just in case you were wondering- at no point are you asked by anyone to prove that you have bags under your eyes or dark circles- in other words, your "eligibility" is never confirmed. Just your credit card number.
So--- what exactly are we participating in, again? The purchasing and usage of Hydrolyze, that's what. Wow, don't we feel special. Did you know that the last time you went to Burger King, you were "participating" in an "opportunity" to purchase junk food? Of course, that "opportunity" is contingent on your level of hunger and ability to pay- dark circles are not necessary.
More deceptive advertising- where would Satellite Radio be without it?
The announcer tells us that "if you have bags under your eyes, or dark circles from blood pooling under the skin, you're eligible to participate in a free trial of Hydrolyze!" Hey, I've got bags under my eyes, and ocassional dark circles- so I'm eligible! Yay! And just in case I'm not sure, the word "participate" is used no less than FIVE TIMES during the commercial. Sounds like some kind of university study looking for volunteers to test their product for FREE, right? In fact, participants in this kind of study are usually PAID to try it. Count me in!
Oh, but wait: How, in fact, does one go about "participating" in this "free trial?" Turns out that if you call their 800 number, the Operator will take down your credit card number and your address, and you'll receive a starter kit for Hydrolyze for free- you just pay shipping and handling. And if after thirty days you aren't satisfied with the results, you can just send it back at your expense. If you don't send it back, you'll get MORE Hydrolyze in the mail- conveniently charged to your credit card, of course. And just in case you were wondering- at no point are you asked by anyone to prove that you have bags under your eyes or dark circles- in other words, your "eligibility" is never confirmed. Just your credit card number.
So--- what exactly are we participating in, again? The purchasing and usage of Hydrolyze, that's what. Wow, don't we feel special. Did you know that the last time you went to Burger King, you were "participating" in an "opportunity" to purchase junk food? Of course, that "opportunity" is contingent on your level of hunger and ability to pay- dark circles are not necessary.
More deceptive advertising- where would Satellite Radio be without it?
Monday, August 10, 2009
Michael Jordan, Stalkers, and Underwear
Hanes Briefs Commercial # 1: Cuba Gooding Jr. receives a gift of underwear from Michael Jordan, complete with a card which reads "hope you enjoy the underwear" (or something like that.)
Quick aside: Why is Michael Jordan giving Cuba Gooding Jr. underwear? I mean, I know that Gooding's acting career hasn't exactly panned out like he planned ( remember Jerry Maguire? Of course you do. Remember Radio? Of course you don't. How about Shadowboxer? The Fighting Temptations? Didn't think so.) But according to IMDB, he's appearing in a lot of films, so he's drawing a paycheck. So what's the deal?
Hanes Briefs Commercial # 2: Charlie Sheen really, really, REALLY wants to thank Michael Jordan for turning him on to the comfort and style of Hanes. All Jordan wants to do is to put his golf clubs in the back of his convertible and continue with his gold-plated retirement. Sheen says that they should get together, do lunch sometime. Jordan is non-commital. Sheen is so anxious to hook up with Jordan in the near future that he tosses his cell phone into the back of Jordan's car as the former NBA star drives off.
Charlie Sheen has something in common with Cuba Gooding Jr.- he's not a successful movie star. Back in the eighties he played the leading role in a few mildly successful flicks- mostly light comedies in the by-now-beaten-to-death spoof genre, but his film career has essentially tanked. But he's a very successful tv star (God knows why- there's no accounting for taste.) I'm sure he has no problem finding ways to rub shoulders with the great and near-great; so why is he begging for a date with Michael Jordan? I mean, this guy was married to Denise Richards once!
You know who would have been a better choice for Charlie Sheen's role in this commercial? Emilio Estevez. I can totally see Estevez begging for the opportunity to spend time with Michael Jordan. Think Sheen has his number?
Quick aside: Why is Michael Jordan giving Cuba Gooding Jr. underwear? I mean, I know that Gooding's acting career hasn't exactly panned out like he planned ( remember Jerry Maguire? Of course you do. Remember Radio? Of course you don't. How about Shadowboxer? The Fighting Temptations? Didn't think so.) But according to IMDB, he's appearing in a lot of films, so he's drawing a paycheck. So what's the deal?
Hanes Briefs Commercial # 2: Charlie Sheen really, really, REALLY wants to thank Michael Jordan for turning him on to the comfort and style of Hanes. All Jordan wants to do is to put his golf clubs in the back of his convertible and continue with his gold-plated retirement. Sheen says that they should get together, do lunch sometime. Jordan is non-commital. Sheen is so anxious to hook up with Jordan in the near future that he tosses his cell phone into the back of Jordan's car as the former NBA star drives off.
Charlie Sheen has something in common with Cuba Gooding Jr.- he's not a successful movie star. Back in the eighties he played the leading role in a few mildly successful flicks- mostly light comedies in the by-now-beaten-to-death spoof genre, but his film career has essentially tanked. But he's a very successful tv star (God knows why- there's no accounting for taste.) I'm sure he has no problem finding ways to rub shoulders with the great and near-great; so why is he begging for a date with Michael Jordan? I mean, this guy was married to Denise Richards once!
You know who would have been a better choice for Charlie Sheen's role in this commercial? Emilio Estevez. I can totally see Estevez begging for the opportunity to spend time with Michael Jordan. Think Sheen has his number?
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Add Yoplait to the List of Sponsors Who Hate Men
Guy is standing in the kitchen, talking on the phone to an unseen buddy about how he's losing weight despite eating all this great food- "yeah, every night it's something different- key lime pie. Coconut creme. Yeah, and I'm actually losing weight. It's been great!"
Woman who is apparently his wife walks into the room behind him as he talks and proceeds to eavesdrop on his conversation as she opens the refrigerator door. Ah-HAH!! Stacked on the top shelf are a dozen or so cups of Yoplait Brand yogurt, in all the flavors that the guy on the phone has mentioned to his friend! Busted! Except, of course, it's hard to see what this guy has done wrong, or why it's any of this woman's business.
Nevertheless, she feels compelled to interrupt his conversation with "Um, Babe?" The guy turns around to see that she's holding the "incriminating" evidence of his malicious deceit- a cup of yogurt. The guy sheepishly turns his back toward the camera and tells his friend "Um, I gotta go." As he puts the phone down his chin drops to his chest, and he has this remorseful, caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar look on his face.
Um, WHY? What the HELL did this guy do that was so damned horrible that he had to be slapped down for it? He told his friend that he was eating all this great food, which turned out to be flavors of yogurt- SO? What if the opposite was happening- what if he was telling his friend that he was losing weight by eating yogurt, but was actually consuming junk food? Would that have been more acceptable?
And more to the point- WHY does this woman feel compelled to get involved in the conversation? WHY is it her business what this guy is telling his friend? And my biggest question- WHAT is with the hangdog look this poor choad has at the end of the commercial as he says "I gotta go?" Does he have to make amends to this woman now? WHY? Did he fail to ask permission before using the phone?
Here's a better ending for this commercial- woman says "Um, Babe?" Guy turns around, acknowledges wife, and says "I'm on the phone right now, is it important?" When she basically has to concede that no, it's not important, she's just being a rude bitch (who, by the way, seems pretty determined to undermine his confidence and, therefore, his diet,) the guy turns his back again and continues with this conversation.
If he's lucky, she packs a bag and leaves before he's ready to hang up. Trust me, buddy- you've suffered no loss. Now open a bag of Fritos and treat yourself to a beer in front of the TV.
Woman who is apparently his wife walks into the room behind him as he talks and proceeds to eavesdrop on his conversation as she opens the refrigerator door. Ah-HAH!! Stacked on the top shelf are a dozen or so cups of Yoplait Brand yogurt, in all the flavors that the guy on the phone has mentioned to his friend! Busted! Except, of course, it's hard to see what this guy has done wrong, or why it's any of this woman's business.
Nevertheless, she feels compelled to interrupt his conversation with "Um, Babe?" The guy turns around to see that she's holding the "incriminating" evidence of his malicious deceit- a cup of yogurt. The guy sheepishly turns his back toward the camera and tells his friend "Um, I gotta go." As he puts the phone down his chin drops to his chest, and he has this remorseful, caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar look on his face.
Um, WHY? What the HELL did this guy do that was so damned horrible that he had to be slapped down for it? He told his friend that he was eating all this great food, which turned out to be flavors of yogurt- SO? What if the opposite was happening- what if he was telling his friend that he was losing weight by eating yogurt, but was actually consuming junk food? Would that have been more acceptable?
And more to the point- WHY does this woman feel compelled to get involved in the conversation? WHY is it her business what this guy is telling his friend? And my biggest question- WHAT is with the hangdog look this poor choad has at the end of the commercial as he says "I gotta go?" Does he have to make amends to this woman now? WHY? Did he fail to ask permission before using the phone?
Here's a better ending for this commercial- woman says "Um, Babe?" Guy turns around, acknowledges wife, and says "I'm on the phone right now, is it important?" When she basically has to concede that no, it's not important, she's just being a rude bitch (who, by the way, seems pretty determined to undermine his confidence and, therefore, his diet,) the guy turns his back again and continues with this conversation.
If he's lucky, she packs a bag and leaves before he's ready to hang up. Trust me, buddy- you've suffered no loss. Now open a bag of Fritos and treat yourself to a beer in front of the TV.
The Horror of Daytime TV- Pity the Poor SAHMs
It's summertime, which in the immortal words of Otto on The Simpsons means "three months of Spaghetti-O's and Daytime TV!" It also means that I get a chance to see a certain type of commercial that during the school year I would miss- the type aimed at Stay-At-Home moms. The commercial I'm going to snark on today played during "The View," which was unfortunately playing on the only television at the gym. Though it makes for good material, I think I would have rather missed this one.
It's a cartoon. Lots of daytime tv commercials seem to be cartoons- apparently ad agencies have convinced the makers of diapers, fabric softeners, and absorbent towels that stay-at-home moms are basically big children who react well to colorful animation and pretty music. It's an ad for Charmin Bath Tissue (which we in the real world refer to as "toilet tissue," but whatever) and it features a little pink bear who has apparently done something to displease his mom- he's "used the restroom" (in as much as there are restrooms available for bears in the woods) but the cheap toilet paper he used left pieces of the stuff attached to his butt.
Stay with me. I haven't even reached the bad part yet.
Momma Bear- who is also pink and is absolutely enormous- hands Little Bear a roll of Charmin and directs him to "try again." (At this point, I really wish I was dead. Or back in school. Anything to avoid this horror.) Little Bear proceeds to squat behind a tree which is equipped with a roll of Charmin. I wish I was kidding. We are supposed to imagine that Little Cartoon Bear is defecating behind Tall But Not Quite Wide Enough Dammit Cartoon Tree.
Little Bear presents himself for Momma Bear's inspection- and (why did God curse me with eyes?) we see that Little Bear still has a few scraps of paper attached to his butt, but they quickly fall off with a few shakes. Momma Bear is sooooo pleased with Little Bear.
Message I got from this commercial: Yes, Bears do shit in the woods, just like the old joke says. But most "bath tissue" leaves pieces of paper attached to the user (seriously? I had no idea.) Charmin magically seperates itself from your butt, even (I guess) if it's covered with fur. The makers of Charmin think that SAHMs are brain-dead children. The makers of Charmin also hate me and don't care that they make me long for Labor Day and a return to 9-hour days teaching, so I don't have to risk accidental exposure to this dreck again.
What happened to Mr. Whipple, that guy addicted to squeezing Charmin yet dedicated to preventing others from doing the same? I miss that guy. Especially now.
It's a cartoon. Lots of daytime tv commercials seem to be cartoons- apparently ad agencies have convinced the makers of diapers, fabric softeners, and absorbent towels that stay-at-home moms are basically big children who react well to colorful animation and pretty music. It's an ad for Charmin Bath Tissue (which we in the real world refer to as "toilet tissue," but whatever) and it features a little pink bear who has apparently done something to displease his mom- he's "used the restroom" (in as much as there are restrooms available for bears in the woods) but the cheap toilet paper he used left pieces of the stuff attached to his butt.
Stay with me. I haven't even reached the bad part yet.
Momma Bear- who is also pink and is absolutely enormous- hands Little Bear a roll of Charmin and directs him to "try again." (At this point, I really wish I was dead. Or back in school. Anything to avoid this horror.) Little Bear proceeds to squat behind a tree which is equipped with a roll of Charmin. I wish I was kidding. We are supposed to imagine that Little Cartoon Bear is defecating behind Tall But Not Quite Wide Enough Dammit Cartoon Tree.
Little Bear presents himself for Momma Bear's inspection- and (why did God curse me with eyes?) we see that Little Bear still has a few scraps of paper attached to his butt, but they quickly fall off with a few shakes. Momma Bear is sooooo pleased with Little Bear.
Message I got from this commercial: Yes, Bears do shit in the woods, just like the old joke says. But most "bath tissue" leaves pieces of paper attached to the user (seriously? I had no idea.) Charmin magically seperates itself from your butt, even (I guess) if it's covered with fur. The makers of Charmin think that SAHMs are brain-dead children. The makers of Charmin also hate me and don't care that they make me long for Labor Day and a return to 9-hour days teaching, so I don't have to risk accidental exposure to this dreck again.
What happened to Mr. Whipple, that guy addicted to squeezing Charmin yet dedicated to preventing others from doing the same? I miss that guy. Especially now.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
My Summer of Smirnoffs
Ok, I have to admit straight out- I've seen this latest installment of Assholes Get Drunk on Smirnoffs And Behave Like Reckless Children about four times, and I'm still not quite sure what's going on. Maybe it's because each of these commercials literally makes me tear up in despair, they are so far off the Brain-Dead Stupid Meter. But I'll give it a shot:
It seems that this time, the lucky (?) survivors of Commercial # 1 (diving down slick highways of plastic sheeting, risking paralysis in the name of Something Had To Be Done) and Commercial # 2 (dumping purple paint all over an abandoned gas station, wearing miner's goggles and jumping up and down like clueless preschoolers) are actually doing some work- pushing pencils and making photocopies for some totally unkewl soulless corporate behemoth. Clearly, once again, something "must be done." As near as I can tell, what "must be done" is taking every piece of foam in the office, carrying the tons of scrap to the roof, and throwing it all in a huge pile. Then what? Well, since a thousand bottles or so of Smirnoffs vodka has magically appeared in this OFFICE BUILDING, the natural answer to "then what?" is to hurl ourselves into the pile of foam!!
Smirnoffs naturally concludes this ad, which not only lacks the tiniest shred of social value but I'm convinced has pushed my soul closer to hell's outer ring, with the words "Be There." Um, be WHERE? WHERE is this HAPPENING in REAL LIFE? WHERE are people getting drunk in the middle of the fricking day, in the middle of an office building, and then throwing themselves into piles of trash on the roof?
I can only hope that before Labor Day, Smirnoffs concludes this ad campaign (which, seriously, has left me convinced that there Is No God, because God Would Not Allow Such Things as these commercials to Exist) by having this entire crowd of worthless choads engage in a wild, "I can't believe I was there" gas-pump free-for-all, a la Zoolander. Heck, instead of gasoline, just have these witless losers douse eachother with Smirnoffs. Then light a match. That commercial would restore my soul and my faith in ad agencies. And it's not like anyone can argue that ALL of these idiots deserve to die a horrible death. Right now.
It seems that this time, the lucky (?) survivors of Commercial # 1 (diving down slick highways of plastic sheeting, risking paralysis in the name of Something Had To Be Done) and Commercial # 2 (dumping purple paint all over an abandoned gas station, wearing miner's goggles and jumping up and down like clueless preschoolers) are actually doing some work- pushing pencils and making photocopies for some totally unkewl soulless corporate behemoth. Clearly, once again, something "must be done." As near as I can tell, what "must be done" is taking every piece of foam in the office, carrying the tons of scrap to the roof, and throwing it all in a huge pile. Then what? Well, since a thousand bottles or so of Smirnoffs vodka has magically appeared in this OFFICE BUILDING, the natural answer to "then what?" is to hurl ourselves into the pile of foam!!
Smirnoffs naturally concludes this ad, which not only lacks the tiniest shred of social value but I'm convinced has pushed my soul closer to hell's outer ring, with the words "Be There." Um, be WHERE? WHERE is this HAPPENING in REAL LIFE? WHERE are people getting drunk in the middle of the fricking day, in the middle of an office building, and then throwing themselves into piles of trash on the roof?
I can only hope that before Labor Day, Smirnoffs concludes this ad campaign (which, seriously, has left me convinced that there Is No God, because God Would Not Allow Such Things as these commercials to Exist) by having this entire crowd of worthless choads engage in a wild, "I can't believe I was there" gas-pump free-for-all, a la Zoolander. Heck, instead of gasoline, just have these witless losers douse eachother with Smirnoffs. Then light a match. That commercial would restore my soul and my faith in ad agencies. And it's not like anyone can argue that ALL of these idiots deserve to die a horrible death. Right now.
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