In the sequel, he urges her to put the lotion in the bucket

What's the most amusing aspect of this commercial? Is it the fact that

A) it features a creepy, lovesick stalker who doesn't seem the least perturbed that the Object of his Obsession doesn't know he exists ("she's my destiny...she just doesn't know it yet...) or

B) that creepy, lovesick stalker has created a Shrine to his Beloved on the internet, or

C) that creep, lovesick stalker is willing to share his obsession with the world by creating a NASCAR tribute to his "Soul Mate?" or

D) That Toyota feels it necessary to provide us with a full-camera shot of creepy, lovesick stalker's late-model SUV (Jesus, what is this kid, sixteen? My sympathy for this loser, never very high, just fell off the chart)?

E) That in the end, Toyota feels it necessary to let us know that the object of this kid's fixation doesn't even know his name? Ha ha, what is more hilarious than unrequited love, after all?

Maybe Toyota thinks this is "funny" because it's familiar- we've all been through what the "star" of this commercial is going through. But being "familiar" is not the same as being "amusing." It's not funny that this kid longs for this girl- it's sad. It's not funny that he spends a great deal of his life collecting photos of his imagined "soul mate"- it's pathetic, and more than a little disturbing.

And again- what's with the SUV shot? Pardon me if I don't give a crap about this kid's "problems"- he's driving a 2010 Toyota SUV to school. Whatever his personal issues, I'm sure it's nothing that an updated cell phone and a summer in the Hamptons can't cure.

Men are stupid, disgusting, clueless slobs. We GET IT ALREADY!

Sigh. Man of the House sits on the couch watching The Game with his close friends (VERY close friends- jesus, they might as well be sitting on each other's laps. Maybe the couch needs to be moved farther away from the tv?)

Double sigh. Woman of the House- you know, the one that keeps the place from burning down, which it definitely would if she left the asshat man-child she legally locked herself into a relationship with in a moment of inexplicable delusion to his own devices for more than a few minutes- notices that the carpet is COVERED in muddy footprints. She's a regular Adrian Monk.

Her husband, and his friends, are eight years old. In other words, they are typical tv males.

"It was the pizza guy!" her child--err, life partner-- lies. He's backed up by his cub scout troop-errr, male friends from the neighborhood.

Desperately clinging to the hope that for all his clumsy, careless, childish cluelessness her husband MEANS well and at least would never LIE to her, Wife accepts his word. This is amusing to us, the viewers, because we know he IS lying.

Let's cut to the chase- moron husband left the pizza box on the table, revealing that there was no delivery guy, and in the final scene we see that he and his friends are on their hands and knees scrubbing the muddy footprints from the carpet while Wife eats the rest of the pizza and entertains herself by reading the box. Because women don't watch tv, I guess.

I've pretty much given up hope that the "Men are disgusting, clumsy morons" theme will ever be abandoned by our beloved ad agencies. I guess it's just too easy- Idiot man + smart, exasperated woman= commercial which writes itself. I just wish the people who make these commercials didn't feel the need to shovel the message down our throats. There could have been ONE muddy shoeprint, not two dozen. The box could have been found in the trash, not on the table.

I mean, give me something.

And dad said I'd never amount to anything

Sometimes, the snark just seems superfluous. Really, what else is there to say about this ad that isn't already right there on the screen? Here's a twenty-something ass who has clearly devoted a great deal of time running his finger around a keypad, and has become an "expert" at it. Now he's going to get some certificate from the good people at Guinness Book of World Records which says that until some 13-year old teenager takes his "crown," he's the fastest texter in the world. He no longer has to settle for having that reputation among his "friends." He no longer has to attempt to dazzle the people around him with his supercharged reflexes and hope that they notice (god knows he's not going to attract their attention by being interesting, witty, or worth paying notice to in any way.) Now he's got a certificate to wave in our faces- Look at Me, I can text really, really fast.

Here's my advice for this guy, free of charge:

Quick, contact the first grade teacher who told you that if you didn't settle down and pay attention during class, you'd be held back. Find the High School Guidance Counselor who told you that if you didn't put your phone away and concentrate on your studies, you'd never get that 2.0 GPA up, and you would be lucky to get into DeVry. Track down that girlfriend who dumped you when she got sick of you spending 90 percent of every date updating your twitter account at the speed of light. Let them know what you've accomplished here. Success is the best revenge, after all.

Above all, contact Mom and Dad and tell them that Their Son has made his mark in the world. No, he didn't get that job. No, he's not moving out of the basement quite yet. Yes, he's still going to need help making his car payments. But look how fast Their Son can text!

And to think that your parents wanted you to put the X-Box away before 2 AM on school nights. Shows what they knew about parenting, doesn't it?

I think that "award" from Guinness will look good next to the G.E.D., don't you?

You're so much lumpier than on Facebook

It's epic! It's massive! It's Rosa, a dim bulb with a cute face and a phone who has been chosen to find out if those 800-plus losers who took five seconds to add their names to her "Social Network" (snigger, condescend) are really her "friends." Well, why the hell not, if it's on someone else's dime? It's not like Rosa has a lot going on with her life right now, right?

After all, with Rosa, it's all about her phone and the internet. Thank God, they've been combined- no more long nights stuck in front of the laptop, updating what isn't going on in Rosa's "Social Life" (cough-loser-cough) beyond leaving messages for other anonymous potatoes she's "met" online. Now Rosa can stare at a slightly smaller screen while she sits on buses, sits on trains, sits on park benches, sits in class, sits in her car narrowly avoiding sideswiping me as I was just trying to get to work, dammit-- all the while gazing at the 21st century's version of the Idiot Box. Good for you, Rosa.

And now she's off to actually meet the carbon-based life forms she's been aimlessly texting as the years of her youth have flown by. And finding disappointment. Eww, this one wants me to come to his condo to watch some documentary. Eww, this one doesn't respond to Rosa's "aren't I as hot as the picture I posted for every sexual predator on the planet to see?" query with the enthusiasm Rosa has come to expect from her largely imaginary "friends."

Bottom line- the end result of Rosa's Epic, Massive Journey of Personal Discovery is the confirmation of her theory that people are basically smelly, obnoxious, fat little lumps of sweaty paste who really ought to be experienced through screenames and tweets, not in the flesh. Online, "friends" are always there for you- God Knows they are never without their phones, and thanks to Kin, this means that they'll never be offline, ever. In 3D (the thought is actually quite frightening, don't you think?) "friends" are way too real, and talking to them face to face is awkward, confusing, and more than a little icky. As Rosa might put it, its just eww lol. I mean, you know how hard it is to just sign off on someone when they are sitting across the table from you?

I'm pretty sure that this is the real message of Kin- Cyber Friends are the only kind of friends to have. Real people suck. Rosa has learned his lesson, so you don't have to. Besides, just try to make 800 friends in the real world! I dare you!

They allow this, but they banned the Marlboro Man?

I never thought I’d live to see advertisements for hard drugs. In this commercial for Acid, we see an adorable little cartoon family, clearly zoned out and defeated by life and more than willing to embrace the sweet release of death, suddenly cured of their ennui by dropping just a little of the magical hallucinogenic (I’m not sure I would actually encourage the taking of LSD while driving, but hey, that’s me. Call me a prude.)

Now look how happy everyone is- flying through the air, carrying huge sandwiches, dancing with gyrating gas pumps, landing on toilets. I mean, this makes the imagery of The Yellow Submarine look subtle. The makers of this ad leave no doubt- Acid is simply awesome, and the world will look so much better, so much greener, so much more pale-yellowish than you ever dreamed possible once you’ve consumed some. Yes, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds was forty years ago- but the promise, the possibility, the dream lives on.

What? This commercial isn’t about the joy of doing hard drugs? Come on. What else could it be about?

Where I Will Be

Every year, I spend the first week in June in Louisville Kentucky, grading Advanced Placement history exam essays. I also manage to see a few things highlighted in this Ad- Fourth Street Live is across the street from my hotel and the Kentucky Convention Center, where I spend eight hours a day for six days with 1200 other teachers grading, is connected by a walkway. The Louisville Slugger museum and factory is pretty cool. The water park down by the Ohio River is fun, especially since it's usually in the low-90s each day I'm there. And I go to pretty much every Bats game scheduled during my "working vacation"- this year, I'll get to watch them take on the Pawtucket Red Sox four times, which will be great.

I guess this ad was made before the dedication of the Abraham Lincoln Memorial, which highlights Lincoln's youth in a series of statues and plaques. Too bad, because that's one of my favorite spots in this nice little town.

And yes, Louisville does feature some of the more mundane things shown in this commercial- women walking down the street yakking on their cell phones. And fat people. Lots and lots of fat people. Heavy, greasy food is popular in Louisville. At the Bats game, you can get a basket of ribs and fried chicken sitting on a pile of french fries for $9.95. I don't know you eat that when it's humid and tipping 90 degrees, but I've seen people do it. And wash it all down with a milkshake.

I got a chance to go out to Churchill Downs my first year, just so I could say I did, and drank a mint julep. Not really worth a return trip because I don't know anything about horseracing. The Muhammad Ali Cultural Center is interesting though, and I had a beer at a small tavern once patronized by Charles Dickens and which was the site of a duel between two Civil War generals.

The waterfront is the best feature of this town- beautiful running paths, parks, and views of real steamboats moving up and down the Ohio River. It should get more attention in this ad.

Anyway, this is where I will be until the 9th, which explains why there won't be any new posts until then. See you all when I get back!

Where I Won't Be

Kayaking! Deserts! Motorcycles! Deserts! Rafting! Deserts! Swimming! Golf! Come to Utah, where it's possible to cram some activity into every moment of your day in a panicked rush! Where whatever you are doing will hold your interest for such a short period of time, you'll feel compelled to call out "what's next?" before dad's VISA transaction has been approved. Are these people on speed, or what?

Seriously- "what's next?" Why not just have the actors mutter "Now What?" It means the same thing, Utah Department of Tourism. While it appears that these people are having a good time, it's also clear that what looks fun on tv gets old really, really fast. It's fun to jump off a boat into a pristine lake ringed by ancient rock formations- once or twice. It's fun to drive an ATV around in the desert- for about five minutes. It's fun to play golf- but we can do this in the other forty-nine states, too.

And the underlying message woven into pretty much every scene is- Come to Utah, We Have Lots of Big Orange Rocks. And tourists with ADD.