How many offensive stereotypes can you count in this commercial?

I have to admit, I'm really at a loss to understand what this commercial is trying to tell me. First, this woman has the most ridiculously annoying voice I've ever heard- my bet is that she's not a Texan, probably not even a Southerner, but the ad guys thought that she did a right-good fake Texas drawl and that girl who starred in The Dukes of Hazzard Movie said No to more commercials for Cable or Cable-related products, so she'd do. So we've got the dumb blonde from Texas. Check.

Second, what's with the old guy. I get the creepy idea that she's supposed to be her husband- so we've got the dumb blonde from Texas who is also a golddigger. Check.

Third, "Troy Barkman?" Really? And he's been trained to hunt down Redskins stuff? Ok, I think we've got dumb blonde from Texas who is a golddigger and is intolerant of non-Cowboys fans. Check. Or maybe just Redskins fan. Or maybe she's just a jackass.

Fourth, what's with the old guy? Sorry, I guess this is kind of a fixation, but- what IS his deal? Is he supposed to be brain-dead, depressed, senile, or what? And what IS his relationship with crazy annoying Cowboys fan? Is this clear to anyone? Could you explain it to me?

Oh, and BTW, Cowboys fan- your team isn't winning anything with Tony Romo as your QB. Just letting you know now.

(I wanted to post on the NFL Direct Ticket Commercial featuring the asshat Packers fan who gave a cheese platter to her non-Packers neighbors, with the cheese slices arranged to form the words "DIRT BAG"- ah, the hilarity- but I couldn't find it. What bothered me most about THAT commercial was the idea that anyone in Wisconsin would actually purchase orange cheese. I'm from Vermont- the "other, smaller Wisconsin," according to MST3K- and I don't know anyone who would go near orange cheese. Pardon the digression.)

They're MY Eggs, and I want that Goose dead NOW!

What's the most obnoxious, depressing thing about this commercial for JG Wentworth, a company which apparently specializes in urging people to go ahead and kill that ol' golden goose and get all the eggs right now?

1. That the guy shown in the opening scene might as well be depicted as having a light bulb go off in his otherwise empty head, as a few words from the tv pitchman has him suddenly realizing that HEY, he's got a structured settlement, annuity or lottery winnings coming, and bills pending, so why shouldn't he have all that money RIGHT NOW?

2. That JG Wentworth has so little respect for it's potential customers that it needs to show us EIGHT morons behaving like brain-damaged contestants on Deal or No Deal, advertising their utter imbecility to the world by screaming "It's My Money, And I Want It Now!" at their innocent neighbors (and in one case, to the poor people stuck in traffic with Mr IQ.)

3. That there are really people out there willing to use JG Wentworth's "service," which involves receiving a one-time lump sum payment in exchange for scheduled future payments, because they are too damned pathetic to get their financial houses in order? I mean, these have got to be the same people who give away a large percentage of their tax refunds for the "convenience" of immediate payment, right?
How seriously stupid do you have to be to want to cash out for pennies on the dollar?

People so fucking greedy and impatient that they are downright EAGER to hand over a big chunk of money to get the rest a bit faster must have read only half the fable- when they get to the part where the guy says to himself "if I cut open the goose, I get all the eggs at once!" they closed the book and thought "yep, I'd do that too. Good plan!"

Exactly as I've always imagined it

If Lance Armstrong really had an office at Radio Shack headquarters, or anywhere else for that matter, what would it look like? I've had it pictured in my head for quite some time, and it looks as though Radio Shack actually invaded my mind to create this ad.

Of course there would be some fat, nerdish supplicant named Alfonse, jumping up whenever Lance barks to do his master's bidding. Of course Lance would be there, peddling away on his endless journey to nowhere- hell, it beats coming in 30th or whatever it was in this year's Tour de France. And most important of all, there would be several framed photographs of Mr Live Strong himself, captioned with one word slogans like "Determination" and "Courage" and "Inspiration" and "Perseverance." Because who wouldn't expect Lance Armstrong's office to be anything less than a shrine to Lance Armstrong?

What's funny is how honest this scene is. Mr Can't Get Out of the Way of his Own Ego wears his bicycle pants to "work" and bleats orders that have pretty much nothing to do with the land of cheap batteries and untrained, minimum-wage cashiers who must be thrilled that their employer, which just cut back on hours, decided to shovel some money into the bottomless Lance Armstrong money hole. Hey, at least they get a discount on those batteries, right?

At last, a Junk Drawer that travels with you!

This commercial wins on so many levels. First, it provides a great example of my favorite infomercial cliche- the harried woman struggling to negotiate her way through a mass of disorganized papers. When I first saw the opening scene I thought it was going to be an ad for a debt consolidation scam, and was pleasantly surprised to find that nope, it's another "organize your life and then carry it with you wherever you go" product. Nothing but Fun.

So this woman quickly moves from the black and white, full of despair world of disorganized clutter to the magically sensible, "every tool has it's place," colorized world of the Wonder File. Wonder File, it seems, is a foldable file cabinet for every bill, receipt, book, magazine, lollypop or pack of gum you've ever wondered where you cut set aside and easily find later. Just stick it in one of the 38 or so pockets, fold it up, and away you go, with all that once hopelessly scattered crap now packed away in one convenient storage unit. Hooray!

Is it fun to use? Check out the faces of the people who bought Wonder File. Unless these people are recalling the absolutely incredible sex they had last night as they fold away their new toys, yes, this is a VERY fun product to use. I believe it- who wouldn't get a real kick out of owning a filing system which seems to defy the laws of physics themselves by allowing you to store fourteen pounds of material into a carry on which remains flat and light? I mean, this makes the makers of those Buxton Bags (sic)- you know, the ones that hold the contents of an entire living room in 16 different pockets- look like pikers when it comes to creating modern marvels of convenience.

Thank goodness for Wonder File. No home should be without at least two. Just pay extra shipping and handling, and your Closet in a Case will be on it's way. You'll wonder how you ever lived without it. Honest.

(Might I suggest "designer plaid" for the kids? I'm SURE it won't get them beat up at school. No way.)

Keep Feeling Utter Boredom

I guess the theory at work here is that

A) ANY 80s tune works fine for ANY commercial for ANYTHING. This would explain why Kingsford Charcoal thought that it would be a good idea to use the completely forgettable "Facination" from the even more forgettable "Human League" in a commercial for carcinogen-spewing briquettes, and

B) The best way to illustrate the sleepy, carefree halcyon days of summer is to take that 80s tune and hand it to someone willing to slowwwwwwwwwww it waaayyyyyyyyyy dowwwwwwnnnnnnn, never mind that your audience is in danger of falling asleep before the fadeout.

What's the real goal here? To hypnotize us into buying charcoal? All this commercial did was make me wonder I where I could go to get those thirty seconds of my life back.

(BTW, check out the caption on the YouTube clip-- "you can't quite place it..." Um, seriously? Can't place "Facination?")

A very accurate depiction of how cell phone addicts view the world

For smokers, the world is just one big ashtray. I just came back from a week at the beach, and lost count of how many jackasses felt perfectly comfortable blowing smoke in my face (and the faces of their children) before flicking their cancer sticks into the ocean or crushing them into the sand to be shared with the seagulls.

To witless, dim cell phone addicts, the world really is, or at least ought to be, one big signal tower, because GOD FUCKING FORBID you should EVER be without service, EVER. Here's what I saw on a crowded boardwalk as well as right next to the water (I kept hoping I'd see one drop into the ocean and get ruined, but dammit, no such luck:)

1. Countless numbers of beachgoers struggling to decipher what was on their little glowing screens through the sun glare. Naturally, whatever it was, it was waaaayyy too important to wait, because I saw at least one frustrated young woman actually burrow under her blanket to create shade.

2. An apparently infinite number of twentysomethings marching down the narrow sidewalk staring at their little phones, texting away, completely oblivious to the fact that there are other life forms on the planet who have not yet been trained to part the fucking waters as they rush relentlessly past. The sign must always say "Walk" while I text, I must always have all my bars, and obstacles in front of me must melt or fall away lest I be interrupted from my quality time with my best friend.

3. An absolutely SICKENING number of alleged adults with small children who apparently thought that they were having a lovely week at the beach with their phones, which would be perfect if only these damn kids weren't hanging around to keep asking to go for walks, build sandcastles, go swimming, and all those other annoyances kids throw at you when you are trying to stare at your phone. I suppose we've got a generation of kids growing up now who are getting used to being ignored by mom and dad, or at least having to compete for attention (and usually losing) with mommy's I Phone, but Jesus, people, why did you have kids if you weren't willing to put the fucking phones away and give them some of your attention during FAMILY VACATIONS?

(What am I thinking? A lot of these people weren't willing to give up smoking for their kids- they are going to give up their cell phones?)

But back to this commercial. All would be forgiven if only the girl sauntering down the street with her eyes glued to her phone ended up under the wheels of a transit bus. No one can tell me she wouldn't deserve it. And when her family is asked "how did she die?" it would be entirely accurate to respond "she O.D'd."

Not the Answer to any Question I can think of

This ad by the bottom-feeding, soulless scum buckets who prey on the most desperate among us opens like a trailer to a really, really bad movie-- but instead of "she thought she had lost her true love" or something equally cliche'd and treacly, we get a message about how getting over your head in debt can...

1. Cause bouts of uncontrollable...crying? Vomiting? Laughing? I really don't know what the woman sitting on the stairs is doing. Perhaps because I watched this commercial without sound. Perhaps because I wasn't paying all that much attention, which will tick off some people who take this blog WAYYYY too seriously, I'm not naming names here.

2. Subject you to scary middle-aged guys in dress shirts "harassing" you by (gasp) calling you at home and work and knocking on your door with intimidating questions like "when do you plan to repay that money you borrowed?" You know, super-abusive, threatening stuff like that, which "threatens the security of your family." Except that, by law, one phone call to each creditor will stop them from calling you at home or work, or coming to your home. Not that any of these Debt Consolidation predators will ever tell you this- nope, if you are two days late on your VISA payment, expect Rocco and his brass knuckles to show up at your doorstep in a very foul mood.

However, signing up for the offered "service" can lead to

1. Tranquil moments with one's laptop, sitting on a beach while (presumably) making your "one easy monthly payment" and giving yourself a "YES!" fist pump as you pretend that you made something resembling a sound financial decision when you hired these bums to do what you could have done yourself, for FREE

2. Watching your savings "grow" quarter by quarter in a huge pink piggy bank....actually, I have no idea what this is supposed to mean. Because I didn't pay close enough attention, because again, I don't take this blog seriously enough.

Sigh. Look, as everyone with half a brain realizes, all companies like "Credit Answers" do (besides buy roughly 90 percent of the ad time on XM/Sirius) is get people to add to their debt by either

A. Hiring them to do "complicated" things like call the creditors and make offers-- again, something the debtor can do all by themselves, just as well, for FREE, while acting as "friendly banker" to the debtor by collecting monthly deposits to build a settlement payment-- paying themselves first, of course, or

B. Offering people who are already in trouble yet ANOTHER high-interest loan to replace the multiple creditors they have now. Is "one easy payment" really better than several monthly payments? Almost never. Why not? Ask the operator about a little something, hardly worth mentioning really, called the "fund transfer fee." Then ask how on Earth any credit company can justify charging hundreds of dollars to push a button and send money that you are already going to pay a high interest rate on into your bank account.

(The answer is, of course, "because we can.")

Most of the time, I blog about commercials that just irritate me. Sometimes, I blog about commercials because I think they insult the intelligence of the viewer, or fail to put a good face on the product being offered for sale. In this case, I'm blogging because I'm just plain angry. It's one thing to pitch junk food or cell phones to people who have money to be foolish with. It's another thing entirely to offer an anvil disguised as a life raft to a drowning person. The amoral jackasses who target the desperate with these ads really need to be slapped down, hard, by truth in advertising laws.