Maybe this guy IS an authority on what is Not Funny

On some planet I will never occupy, Larry the Cable Guy is funny. "Get 'er done" is an absolutely drop-dead hysterical catch-phrase that leaves one rolling on the floor, laughing one's ass off. Anything involving sleeveless shirts, three-day beards, feed caps, chewing tobacco, pickup trucks, American flag patches and the Golden Corral is already hilarious- adding jokes about toilets, white bread, ugly wives and beer is just the icing on an already amazingly delicious cake.

And on that planet I'll never even visit, the kings of Blue Collar Comedy can sell us anything. Just by appearing on the screen and doing their schtick, which invariably involves waddling around with 60 lbs or so of extra flab spilling over their belts, spewing each line with an exaggerated southern-hick accent, and being as Caucasian as humanly possible. You'd THINK that the only things these people could effectively pitch is beer, KFC, and trucks, but you'd be wrong. On this planet, where babies can sell online trading services, fat men in dirty t-shirts can sell us anything. Including heartburn medication.

Ok, maybe this actually does make a little sense. I mean, this guy comes right out and tells us that he's a dumb ass who doesn't know a thing about medicine, but he's "got a degree" in stuffing fatty, spicy junk down his cake hole. And when he's overindulged, why, Prilosec is what he turns to. Sure beats the alternative, which is not overindulging. This IS America, after all. Still....

I'm not at all sorry I don't live in this planet. Maybe I'm a snob, but I don't think I would ever feel like I belonged there. See, I only laugh at funny things, and I only buy from spokespeople who look like they might know what they are talking about. Maybe Jeff Gordon can sell me an oil filter, but I don't care what brand of soda or ice cream treat he likes. I don't care about ANYBODY ELSE'S taste in beer, and I wouldn't buy a Light beer if you threatened to permanently revoke my Man card. And while I can believe that this jerk gets heartburn on a regular basis, I'm not taking medical advice from someone who looks like he ought to be slopping the pigs or loading grain bags onto a pickup truck down at the feed store.

And I wouldn't watch five minutes of Larry the Cable Guy if you held a gun to my head. But then again, I'm just an alien here, right?

For the first and, I'm sure, only time: Go Giants

I'm a New Englander. That means I'm a Red Sox and Patriots fan. And that means I grew up with a lot of heartache and anxiety when it came to professional sports. I'm old enough to remember Superbowl Shuffle and the Bears' mauling of my team, and I can recall wandering around Washington DC in a daze for hours after the Buckner Play. I know what it's like to live and die with a sports club.

Of course, I also remember The Drive and the Giants ruining the Patriots bid for a perfect season in 2007. (I was married to a Buffalo Bills fan for a few years and watched as the Giants broke her heart in the '91 Superbowl, too.) So I really hate the Giants.

That being said, it takes a lot for me to root for the New York Giants- it's not like rooting for the Mets or Yankees, but pretty damned close. Yet, State Farm has made this possible. Because after watching this commercial for roughly the ninth time in the last forty minutes, I really, REALLY hate Aaron Rodgers. I mean, this junk is so damned stupid, so "we know all you football fans are slack-jawed yokels, so nibble on this, mouth-breathing monkeys" insulting, how could anyone possibly root for it's star?

It seems like only yesterday when Peyton Manning was featured in pretty much every other commercial on Sunday afternoons. I can't believe that I'm saying this, but-- man, those were the good old days. Get better soon, Peyton, so your ads can at least in part drown out what is apparently going to be an entire series featuring Aaron Rodgers and an expanding group of witless clowns waving at their midsections and calling it some kind of "dance."

Meanwhile-- this hurts a lot, but....life will be a whole lot less painful if Eli Manning and the Giants stuff Rodgers and the Packers into the frozen turf and out of the sports headlines for another year this afternoon. Sorry, cheeseheads: I actually love your publicly-owned team. I think you are wonderfully dedicated fans, like the people I would sit next to in the cheap seats of Rich Stadium while the snow swirled around and the Bills marched toward another inevitable Super Bowl collapse (I lived in Buffalo from 1991 to 1995- the Bills went to, and lost, the Big Game each year I was there except the last.) But this- this is beyond ugly. It's beyond stupid. And I just can't root for it to continue.

Go Giants. For one week. I don't care who you play in the NFC Title Game, I won't be rooting for you then. But for today, I'm a Giants fan. Don't blame me, blame State Farm. Only they could have made this possible.

Ford Fiesta provides one of my favorite lines ever

I really couldn't pay attention to anything that happened after the line was uttered. The choreographed nonsense that followed- people jumping off of buildings, dancing, spreading banners...seriously, whatever, who cares. I could even completely ignore the utter nonsense of it all- the idea that an entire city could go into rapture over a Ford Fiesta. (I mean, please. A Ford Fiesta.)

None of the final 55 seconds of stupid which followed The Line really mattered at all. This thing could have turned into a commercial for Viagra, with entire buildings crashing down, trees springing up out nowhere, and the entire universe being reordered because two people found that "the moment was right" at the same time, thanks to the magic of the purple pill. It could have turned into yet another offensively dumb cell phone ad, with fire hydrants exploding while some disconnected loser muttered "yo, I'm on my way" into the microphone of his Best Friend.

No, nothing else mattered once the female in this ad uttered the truly immortal line "do you have the keys?" I mean, if you ever find yourself lucky enough to own a car with keyless starting, how do you manage to get someone to say that to you before you push that button? What, did she think the guy was going to hot wire the car? Are they stealing it?

"Do you have the keys?" Classic, Ford. Thanks so much for making my day. You could have dumped the rest of this ad and saved a lot of money. Because this commercial is really over after that line.

Another unintentionally hilarious cell phone commercial

Wow, a piece of technology so advanced that it "knows" what it's owner wants to do at any given time of day, and "adjusts" to meet that owner's "needs."

Seriously, how complicated could this be, really? Like it's really difficult to "remember" the doings of your average stunningly predictable cell phone addict. "Wow, my phone KNEW I wanted to post a tweet, just because I post tweets roughly every twenty minutes or so. And it KNEW I was going to ask for GPS directions to the Gulp 'n Blow I hit for Cheetos every afternoon, even though I know where the damn store is by heart, because I have to justify having this service available to me..."

Oh, but owning one of these time-sucking, brain cell-murdering little toys makes one feel like James Bond, doesn't it? "You don't want this technology falling into the wrong hands." And the "right hands?" Geeky, soulless, friendless losers who need directions to the living room downloaded to them and who think that they are just ONE technology upgrade from actually having a life, of course.

Fortunately, the Emergency Room is always open, too

Just in case you thought that Cici's, KFC, and The Golden Corral had the market cornered on destroying our health: the "four" in this ad is for Denny's "famous" Fried Cheese Melt which, believe it or not, consists of deep-fried mozzarella sticks swimming in melted cheese and served between slices of butter-infused toasted bread.

No kidding. Almost 900 calories of greasy, artery-clogging, valve-damaging dairy product served up at a price which just screams "come in often, and don't forget to get the hot cakes and bacon on the side!"

So, who would actually eat any of this junk? Well, I think the answer is pretty obvious. This is Food for the Drunk and Starving. Your favorite watering hole is closed for the night, there's nobody waiting at home in your dark, chilly apartment, and the last time you checked, the only thing in your refrigerator was bottle of flat coke and half a jar of mustard. Sure, you could hit 7-11 for a heat lamp dog and a bag of chips, but that's more of a study break thing. It's Saturday night after all- or maybe it's Sunday morning. No matter. There's Denny's, with the big orange sign all warm and glowing and inviting, where nobody's going to criticize your food choices and the coffee is going to just keep coming, and you can eat at a booth instead of your car like they make you do at 7-11.

The combination of alcohol, hunger, and the desire to stave off loneliness for another hour or so finds you ordering fried cheese sandwiches, flapjacks layered with cheesecake, and buttery hash browns- and actually enjoying it. Or at least that's what you tell yourself- when you aren't trying to convince your conscience that you are going to be rising at dawn the next day (or later that same day, who knows?) and walk 25 miles to make up for the massive calorie overload you are subjecting your body to. (This is all hypothetical, I'm not speaking from experience or anything.)

I'd also like to add that anyone who fits the description of the person described above is NOT a loser- probably more like a sweet, smart, good-looking but terribly under-appreciated guy who has been experiencing a run of bad luck, which could happen to anybody. The people who eat this stuff when entirely in their right minds, like in the middle of the morning or after church- TOTAL losers. Man, I pity THOSE idiots.

She'll be sneaking back in for a $5 walnut brownie as soon as she can ditch her friend at the office

Ok, look- one of the reasons I avoid pretentious coffee shops is because whenever I find myself in one, I'm behind idiots like these. They want incredibly complicated coffee drinks involving shots of this and dollops of that, and don't even try to explain to me how they ever developed a taste for any of it (I can only imagine that back in the dark ages--the 1980s-- when most people were still brewing coffee at home instead of visiting one of the 900 Starbucks within walking distance, these weirdos were experimenting with whipped cream and espresso shots and spices at 5 AM every morning.)

The woman who picks out the Yoplait is worse than any of the people I've bumped into in real life, however, because she adds an unjustified level of smugness to her asshattery. "You know what, I'll just have one of these" she titters, leaving her friend to consume her 400 calories- 400 hot, delicious calories- over the next very satisfying ten minutes or so. Which is about nine minutes longer than her disgustingly bony, idiot companion will be "enjoying" her crummy little cup of yogurt.

Hey, stupid skinny woman- here's why Yoplait has hardly any calories: it has hardly any mass. It has virtually no taste. It certainly won't give you anything resembling a feeling of fullness. (Full disclosure: I actually eat a lot of yogurt, but it's always topped with whole grain cereal. I like the calcium, but don't care for milk. See how fascinating I am?) Oh, and it's nothing resembling a decent substitute for a high-calorie drink, I don't care WHAT this Even Dumber Than Usual ad is trying to tell me.

Oh, and here's another little tip, Miss Pretension, just in case you aren't picking out that yogurt just to show up your friend: If you are going to eat yogurt, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to choose a coffee shop as the place to buy it. Ever check out the price of a bottle of water or a bagel at a Starbucks?

Proof Positive that all Sitcom Creators are Males

Wow, who says that there's nothing fresh and different on television anymore?

I mean, take a look at this new sitcom "starring" Rob Schneider- you know, that guy who was on SNL several decades ago, perfecting a character who worked in an office dropping catch-phrases right and left ("makin' copies! Copyreeno! The Copylator!" etc. etc.) Somehow Schneider managed to parlay this "talent" into a bit role in Unnecessary Roughness. How good was Unnecessary Roughness? Well, it "starred" Scott Bakula, Hector Elizondo, Sinbad, and Kathy Ireland. 'Nuff said?

This delightfully Outside-The-Box Fun For The Whole Family gift from TV land features Schneider recently married to- get this- a MEXICAN. Oh, and not just any Mexican- a really hot Mexican. Now there's a delightfully quirky new concept- a very average looking, rather dithering and often clueless guy married to a smart, beautiful woman. We've never seen that before. I mean, except for when Bob Newhart was paired with Suzanne Pleshette. Or Courtney Thorne-Smith appeared as Jim Belushi's wife. Or when we were treated to Michael Gross married to Meridith Baxter Birney. But that's it.

Oh wait, there's also the Leah Remini-Kevin James pairing. And Megyn Price matched with Donal Logue. And Jamie Gertz mysteriously ending up with Mark Addy.

Come to think of it, this isn't fresh at all. In fact, it's the most overused cliche in the history of situation comedies. But there is a bit of a twist here- because Schneider's hot wife is a Mexican, there's endless opportunity for "funny" misunderstandings, racial slurs, hurt feelings- you name it. Get the popcorn and settle down on the couch with your family, this should be a lot of fun.

Or maybe it will just be redundant, played, Been There Done That Fill In the Blank Junk from whatever computer spits out the "ideas" for crap like this. Junk with all the freshness of last year's yogurt or that chunk of bagel you found under the passenger seat this morning. With all the flavor and excitement of a box of instant potatoes. Junk that leaves anyone with two brain cells to rub together and an ounce of taste asking "haven't I already seen this show- many, many times? Hasn't this show been on for as long as television has been in existence? Why would I watch this?"

I can think of only two reasons why ANYBODY would tune into this rehashed, rewarmed, hackneyed cow pie of dumb. First, if you are a single guy who likes to watch gorgeous women not only tolerate, but actually adore, incredibly average looking dumbass males. Second....well, come to think of it, there is no second reason. Because I can't bring myself to imagine that there are actually Rob Schneider fans out there. Not after Unnecessary Roughness.