"Hey, I had a bagel with seeds in it last week! What do you want from me?"

Ugh, I don't know what's more obnoxious here- the fact that this is Yet Another Episode of the longest-running show on television, My Husband Is A Clueless Jackass Who Would Be Dead If He Hadn't Married Me, or that it's also Yet Another This Thing Has Some Fiber Therefore It's Good For You commercial which feeds on the myth that there's a magic bullet to good health. Let's call it a tie.

Doofus Moron Hubby whines like an eight-year old at the very suggestion that maybe he should eat something that has more fiber than a bowl of chocolate pudding. He grimaces at the broccoli and asks his Mom--errr, wife-- if he should just "eat the bag." (My suggestion: Yes. Eat the bag. But please, soak it in gasoline first. Come on, I dare you.)

Long-suffering but What The Hell He Makes Six Digits And The Clock Was Ticking Mom---errr, Wife, fascinated with the ingredient panel of the box of sugar-infused dirt in her hand, is perfectly willing for the Doofus Moron She Shares The House With to believe that she's a hypocrite because she's eating aforementioned sugar-infused dirt.

And here's where the ad really jumps the shark. Designated Male Moron thinks that this stick of nuts and granola held together by honey, drenched in chocolate syrup and sprinkled with chocolate chips, is a candy bar. Never mind that it doesn't look like any candy bar I've ever seen. And he seems to continue to think it's a candy bar after taking a bite. Never mind that if this thing is a candy bar, it's the most god-awful tasting candy bar imaginable.

Ok, I'll give the guy a little credit here- if your choice when trying to classify this thing is to either call it a candy bar or an intelligent part of a high-fiber diet, I have to go with candy bar. It's chocolate and sugar- LOTS of sugar. It has slightly more fiber than a Milky Way. As part of a plan to put more fiber in your diet, well...let's just say there are many, many more effective ways to accomplish that than chowing down on these calorie-dense sweets.

Sorry, lady, but you lose this one. I think that makes the score You 11,000, Him 1. I wouldn't call this a sign of an impending comeback. Just a tiny glimmer of hope.

Please let this turn into "Deliverance II- This Time, You Root for the Hillbillies"

Sometimes I think that I could very easily create a spin-off blog which deals exclusively with these "Man Up" (or "Man Card")-themed beer commercials, they are so damned insulting. They are also all exactly the same- only the scenery and the actors change. The story in each are identical- three guys drink Miller Lite, one guy does not, Outsider gets trashed by his Miller Lite-worshiping friends, who have so completely wrapped their "manliness" in their choice of Lite Beer (I will NEVER be able to get my head wrapped around that one) that they proceed to humiliate, belittle and intimidate the "friend" who refuses to go along.

In this particular ad, The Guys are off hiking or camping or rock-climbing or something. I've never gone rock-climbing, but I've done a lot of hiking and camping, and it's never even occurred to me to bring beer along. Any kind of beer. In any kind of container.

Come to think of it, it's never occurred to me that a weekend of hiking, rock climbing and camping with three scruffy jackasses with a fixation on Lite Beer and being Manly would be anything approaching fun. If the guy with the rolling backpack is willing to put up with this kind of shit, just imagine what his home life is like.

Somehow this all ends with The Guys sitting way too close to each other around a campfire, still giggling about the rolling backpack, which mysteriously goes flying down the side of a mountain. Right in front of them. I don't know how this happened- is there a fifth Guy up there who, upon seeing the rolling backpack filled with offending beer, decided to destroy it? Did it's owner leave it on the top of the mountain? Did the bag just decide it could not deal with the humiliation of being owned by someone who would hang around with assholes like this and commit suicide? Whatever, it's All So Hilarious to the jerkwad friends. And to the cheering section over at YouTube, which was nice enough to stop shoveling Chicken McNuggets into it's face long enough to post missives on how much it loves this ad.

Can someone explain to me why anyone would take cues on "Manliness" from these choads? Since when did "Manliness" depend on being a rude, watered-down-beer-swilling prick? Oh yeah- since beer commercials first started to appear on television. Sorry I forgot- I guess that will cost me a point on my "Man Card." WTF-ever, Miller Lite.

Kay Jewelers (and Tide) would like to have a word with you, young woman!

We've identified a subject for assimilation.

Who do you think you are? A GUY? Buying ropes and boots and climbing rocks instead of changing diapers and bundling the Miracles into the minivan for soccer/swim/dance class? Heading off for a vacation with your boyfriend instead of rolling a cart around the local supermart looking for the Pedisure and the Indian guy offering free samples of twigs held together by honey? Drooling over climbing equipment instead of chocolate diamonds?

You, lady, are the reason the birth rate has been dropping in this country since the 1960s. You and women like you, who insist on pretending that there's more out there than the house in the suburbs and the next meal and the next Miracle. For shame.

On the other hand, you aren't a hopeless case. You've got the "use your credit card constantly in order to build up 'Rewards Points' and then use those points on something wasteful and stupid" thing down cold (remember those "you can donate your points to charity" ads that came out a while back? I can- just barely- because I don't see them anymore. Didn't test well, I guess.)

But enough is enough. When you are finished posing on the top of your rock (how much did the guy in the helicopter with the attached camera cost?) get yourself to Jerad or Kay and tell that man of yours that the game is up, it's time to fork out for another kind of rock- the kind that sits on your finger and announces to the world that you've earned your MRS degree. And get to work on those Miracles. We're counting on you.

Speaking of Tools....

This commercial falls into the category of "A little knowledge in the hands of a drooling moron is a dangerous thing." Someone over at Crappy Ads R Us got a hold of a Biology 101 textbook and found some stuff about Homo Sapiens being separated from the "lower animals" (kind of hard to call them that, when they aren't the ones spending half their days texting LOL to each other) by "the tools we use." A very weak (maybe forty watt) light bulb when off in this guy's head, and ten minutes later he he had a very lame idea for a very lame commercial for a very unnecessary Minivan.

You see, "we got to the top of the food chain" by "using the right tool." It must be true, because it's bleated at us in a deadpan, matter-of-fact, professorial tone. The "right tool" may be a bungee cord, or it might be a flatbed truck. But if you don't use the right tool, expect to get "why don't you go back to walking on your knuckles" looks from the guy in the Dodge Caravan who thinks he understands that chapter in his kid's biology book.

By the way, we got to the top of the food chain because we knew what kind of tool to use? I suppose- we learned to use noise to make ourselves more threatening to bigger, stronger animals. We learned to sharpen sticks and shape rocks into knives, and we learned that hunting in packs was more efficient than hunting as individuals (but wild cats and dogs figured this out long before we did.) How did all this evolution lead us to the point where we are driving around in Minivans sneering at people who don't have access to our "tools?"

Can I tell you how much I hate ads which feature Big Strong Guys placidly explaining to us that There's One Way To Do Things, And This Is It, And If You Do It Any Other Way You Are A Loser Who Is Embarrassing Me? Who appointed this guy (or Dennis Leary, for that matter) as arbiter of Which Tools Are Proper For Which Truck?

I don't know which guy is supposed to be in charge of telling me what to do if I want to be a Real Man using the Right Tools for The Job, whatever the hell that means. I can tell you one thing, though- whoever he is, no matter how out of shape he is, no matter how unshaven he is or how serious he sounds as he narrates his thoughts, he isn't driving a candy-apple Dodge Caravan. Because that can't ever be the proper tool for any job. Chew on that, you mouthy, preachy, judgmental dick.

Makes sense to me, Volkswagen

Because after all, if

Bored losers plus a backyard barbecue=providing "the NFL experience" to a guest which results in that guest suffering hi-LARIOUS spinal injuries,

Bored losers in an office building plus several cases of Smirnoff's = a spontaneous piling of furniture into an empty rooftop swimming pool and (hey, what do you know?) many awesome opportunities for more spinal injuries, and

Bored idiots plus cell phones with instant YouTube access = endless opportunities for blatant invasions of privacy, then NATURALLY

Two intensely gay men plus one Volkswagen Jetta can only equal "Let's go to Vegas!" Oh, and "let's kidnap the guy from the dealership while we're at it!" I mean, what could be more obvious?

Now you know where that spare key to your house went to

Why isn't this mother and daughter couple even the slightest bit freaked out at the sudden appearance of a "counselor" in their kitchen? A counselor calling "time out" and wearing an official-looking badge, yet! Wouldn't a more natural response be a piercing scream followed by "What the hell are you doing here?" and "Jamie, call the police!??"

And why are these women at all surprised that their detergent didn't get the dishes spotlessly clean? I mean, it's called "Other Tablets." Doesn't exactly inspire confidence, does it? What's the matter, was the store out of "Bargain Brand" or "Brand X" detergent?

Why does it not bother me one bit that the Kitchen Counselor has managed to set up a flat screen tv and a DVD explaining how Cascade outperforms Other Tablets in national...umm, taste tests? Clearly she's been scoping out this house and these people for quite some time, hiding behind furniture, just waiting for her opportunity to strike.

And why am I not at all surprised that no men make an appearance in this ad? I mean, it takes place entirely in a kitchen. Unless there's beer in the fridge and a game on the big screen, there's simply no reason for any man to ever enter a kitchen for any reason. Dishes? That there's women's work. I know. I watch TV.

I guess that explains by rather "bleh, whatever" reaction to this ad. I just can't relate to it. Greasy dishes? I can't remember the last time I even USED a dish, let alone one labeled "meat." Do they mean bowls? But bowls are for cereal- how does cereal make bowls greasy? So very confused.

Meanwhile, what is that awful smell coming out of the room with the electronic box used to keep beer cold? Whatever it is, Cascade won't help. You see, I don't have a dishwasher- she left me YEARS ago. ;>(

Unneccesary Dumbness; ten yards and loss of credibility

Southwest LOVES to pretend that every other major carrier treats it's customers unfairly by charging unnecessary bag fees. And I'm certainly not interested in defending the practice of charging $25 or more per checked bag, though the reaction some of these idiots have is far more annoying than the fee- I sure as hell would not appreciate being stuck behind some asshole who decided that he was going to hold up the whole line because he thought that he if he threw a big enough hissy-fit he might get the underpaid, overworked baggage monkey to waive the charge. Hey, don't want to pay the baggage fee, buddy? Then get your fucking elbow off the counter, get your ass out of line, and go find another airline, ok?

Meanwhile, however, I'd love bring a handful of these yellow flags to the airport the next time I fly and start throwing them at Southwest employees when

1. I arrive three hours before my flight, yet am handed a boarding pass which makes me wait until every business class passenger, elderly person, and fat woman with two red-headed screaming brats waddle on to the plane first, NEVER MIND that they'll still be standing in the aisle mysteriously unable to find their seats ten minutes after I've been allowed to board....

2. I dutifully check my suitcase, only to experience a delay when the scumbags with their massive carry-ons act surprised when they attempt to board and are told "sorry, that won't fit, we'll put a yellow tag on it and you can pick it up on the tarmac when we land." So....the "punishment" for not following the rules is valet service for your bags? I have to wait twenty minutes at the carousel for my bag to be manhandled off the plane and on to a truck, and finally deposited inside the airport, but the jackasses who ignored the "if your bag does not fit in this bin..." signs scoot off with their luggage in record time?

3. I ask for a Diet Coke and am given A) an eight-ounce can manufactured by El Cheapo Industries exclusively for Southwest or B) a four-ounce cup, half of which is filled with ice, to wash down my bag of nine peanuts,

4. Every flight I take up the East Coast or to Louisville, Kentucky is on a tiny tin coffin with wings. A seat in Fenway Park- or your average SmartCar- has more legroom.

5. When I fly to Vermont, I have to fly to New Hampshire, because Southwest won't acquire a hub closer to my parent's home in Barre than Manchester? Sure it's a cheap flight, and quick- about 90 minutes- but then it's a two and a half hour drive to my boyhood home.

(BTW, I love the Southwest Airlines commercials which show the "refs" trying to pull over another airline's plane for some "violation" concerning bag fees- in real life, TSA would mow them down with sniper fire in about twelve seconds, at a loss to absolutely nobody. I can't believe I put my life in the hands of this airline on a regular basis.)