Tell you what- you shut up about your stupid electronics, I won't punch you in the face. Deal?

Ugh, you know it's bad enough that you are going all gushy over a stupid, mind-numbing piece of technology that does nothing but encourage you to sit as your body fat gradually takes over the rest of your body (the space between your ears being 90 percent fat already.)  It's bad enough that you've found another "this will allow me to avoid eye contact with the other humanoid life forms I am cursed to share the world with" mobile flat screen.  It's bad enough that you still haven't gotten over your fascination with being able to rub your finger around a screen and make images move around and change (seriously, when is that going to stop being the Most Amazing Thing Ever?)  But is it really necessary for you to pretend that this is something that we haven't already seen from other companies, or to act as if this is the ultimate, and won't be a giggle-inducing antique roughly 90 days from now?

And instead of wearing a shirt which reads SONY, why don't you read one that says "I'm a hopeless, friendless techno-geek, please feel free to beat me up, it's the only physical contact I ever have with actual, carbon-based life forms?"

And since this is your new Best Friend, how are you going to break the news to your iPhone?  Are you going to use the same speech you gave to the Blackberry last year?  Go easy, ok?

Who thought Flooring could be so gosh-darned adorable?

Awww, don't you want to just hug these adorable people?  Aren't they the cutest couple EVER?

And not Katniss and Peeta cute.  Not even Belle and Edward cute.  I mean CUTE.

Check out the way this guy talks about flooring- it's not that it has to be affordable.  It has to be "like FREE Affordable!"  Man, that's really affordable.  And really cute.

And then the guy sings some song about being free.  I don't know what that means.  I just know that it's so cute, I want to die.  That cute.

And then the cuteness envelope is pushed to the limit when the girl starts throwing food at the guy.  I'd say that this is clearly one of those "moments" that guys are supposed to take pills to be ready for, except that it's not possible to imagine these people actually having sex.  Way too cute for icky stuff like that.

I sure hope we see this couple in a whole series of commercials for stuff like flooring or whatever.  Because no way this was enough for me.  Maybe they can go to McDonald's next and toss quips concerning the dollar menu back and forth.  No wait, I know- they can update their Facebook profiles while sharing an entree at Applebee's!  The possibilities are endless!

Still better than listening to Jerry Remy and Don Orsillo

Well, this is depressing.  If you are a fan of the New England Sports Network, and a fan of gadgets that allow you to rub your finger constantly across a screen in order to bring up "information" or to post insightful comments like "this guy rox," here's the perfect combination for you and your sad, technology-addled little life.

Oh, and now you can group your friends in new and-- umm, "interesting" ways.  Check out the "Cool Kids" circle.  And the "my fave teams" circle.  I want to see the "just friends to keep my number up" circle and "never actually met but again, there's that numbers thing" circle.

And while you are scrolling and grouping and commenting, life is flashing by- only you don't see that happening, because you are too busy scrolling and grouping and commenting.  I imagine the people who own this gadget and subscribe to this service probably do take breaks to eat, sleep, and actually watch the sporting events they can't get enough "information" on from time to time, but I'm not absolutely sure- I was at a friend's house during a football game once, and every other person there spent three hours staring at their laptops, giving me (totally unsolicited) play-by-play updates on their fantasy teams.  I hope the noise of the game on the television didn't distract them too much.

Starting in late June, I'll be catching the Red Sox on NESN pretty much every day as they stumble to a likely third-place finish in the AL East, not even good enough to make the playoffs despite Bud Selig's latest tinkering with the sacred game for the purpose of assuring that every postseason includes both the Red Sox and the Yankees.  (Maybe Selig will wait until the last day of the season to announce that the rules have been changed- this year, all teams with the word "Sox" in their names which also play in 100-year old stadiums get to make the playoffs.  Hey, it wouldn't be any more blatant or manipulative than the end of "The Hunger Games.")  But even less than a likely poor season by my beloved Sox, I'm really not looking forward to NESN's nonstop barrage of stupid "check us out here, and here, and here" commercials.  Is it still ok if I just want to watch the game, then go do something else which doesn't require a flat, glowing screen?

I don't think "Well Done" really fits here, Totinos

I mean, first of all, this mom has raised at least one incredibly helpless kid.  Lacking a "find the frozen poison" App, the kid needs his mom's turn by turn directions to locate the box of precooked junk in a freezer containing exactly six items.  Hey mom, maybe Home Schooling wasn't the best option for your offspring....just saying, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree....

You really think it's safe for this boy to use the toaster oven without adult supervision?

Second, she doesn't tell her kid where the fresh fruits and vegetables are.  Or the whole grain bread and peanut butter.  Or the popcorn, the yogurt, or any number of other healthy choices she might have suggested.  Nope, she points them right to something called Totinos Pizza Rolls, which we can all assume contains a full week's supply of all the major food groups- fat, salt, artificial colors and flavors, the works.

Finally, she had better hope that the kid she once referred to as her Little Miracle (when he wasn't just "The Bundle") doesn't have any more tough questions, like "we can't find the bathroom" or "hey there's nothing on tv" or "there are these weird, hot orange things coming out of the stove, what's that all about?"  Because Boy Genius has just left his phone in the freezer.

Yeah, you got a real winner there, Mom.  Guess I can't blame you for feeding him fatty garbage.  The first step to starting over, after all, is letting go.

Good question, Honda. What IS this?

This is me wondering why I'm answering a little kid's questions about a car, when it's his parents who are going to decide whether they are going to buy it or not.

This is me wondering why I'm spending all this time babysitting this obnoxious little brat, while the parents don't seem at all interested in the car until the kid goes off to the restroom.

(This is me hoping that the kid never comes back from the restroom.)

This is me wondering why I don't hear either of the parents even once ask this kid to behave like something a little better than a hideously over-indulged little jackass.  Or even acknowledge that the prick is being an incredibly rude jerk who desperately needs a lesson in manners.

This is me fantasizing about cracking the skulls of this kid's parents together and shouting "What the Hell is the Matter With You, do you Really Not Notice your kid is being a Total Ass???"

This is me finally resigning myself to the realization that this kid's parents think that their wretched spawn is Oh So Adorable they Need to Share Him With the World.  Or they simply can't find a babysitter willing to take him on, at any price.  Or they are in constant terror of being wished into the cornfield.

This is me happily saying goodbye to this miserable excuse for a family, determining to change jobs before the first routine maintenance check comes due, and reminding myself to stop by church on the way home to Thank God I've never produced one of these Little Miracles.

I think CIROC is Latin for "Overweening Pretentiousness"

I don't know about you, but after a long, hard day of work for not very much money, there's nothing I like better than to see a commercial featuring rich, beautiful people jetting off to Vegas and guzzling "ultra premium" vodka.

As near as I can tell, this fabulously entertaining little ad is all about how millionaire playboys without a care in the world enjoy taking private planes to Vegas and then strutting around in $2000 suits as the congratulate each other on their God-given awesomeness. Naturally they are joined by equally glamorous, equally beautiful leggy women who share their fondness for The Good Life, which involves mugging for the camera and flashing million-dollar smiles for the benefit of us Little People, who are just happy to have the opportunity to bask in their reflected light.

And it all comes down to the Vodka. It's not JUST Vodka, and it's not even just premium vodka. That crap is for us peasants. This is ULTRA PREMIUM Vodka. If you didn't know that there was any such thing, well, you weren't supposed to. Because you aren't good enough for it, and if you got to Vegas in something other than your own Lear Jet, I'm sure the makers of CIROC would prefer you stick to Smirnoff anyway.

Speaking of which- I can't believe I miss those Smirnoff "I was there" ads of two summers ago. The people in them were no less insufferable than these dressed-to-the-nines rodents, but at least they seemed to be middle class dickwads who might actually have to settle for (gasp) flying coach now and then. Much better than watching the One Percent admiring each other as they toast their Far Far Better Than Us status.

Yes, Burger King's Mary J Blige ad is racist. But not for the reason you think

This commercial for Burger King's "chicken" strips is getting a lot of attention these days.  Apparently, a whole lot of people out there think that it's racist because it depicts a multi-millionaire who happens to be black singing the praises of fried chicken. 

I think this ad is racist, not because Ms. Blige is singing about fried chicken, but for two different reasons altogether.  First, she is cued to sing by a fat, balding, pasty white manager in response to a question put by another doofus white guy- "what's in these new chicken wraps?"  So we may presume that Ms. Blige is absolutely immobile until a white guy wants some information, and another white guy snaps his fingers and sets her into motion.   Hey, bet you thought that career of yours had put you beyond having to play Stepin Fetchit to white males, didn't you, Ms. Blige?  Sorry to inform you, it just isn't so.

Second, Ms. Blige's job here is to sell the fatty junk as something the white customer would really, really like to eat.  In other words, her job is to lie.  Burger King figures black people are really good at lying, so why not, right?  Just throw them a few quarters, and they'll jump, sing, dance, and bleat whatever BS you want them to.  Even if they are already wealthy, like I presume Ms Blige is.  It's in their blood, right, Burger King?

Actually, neither of these examples really explains why I think that this ad is racist.  I think that this commercial is a vicious, outdated attack on an entire race of people, just like a whole lot of you out there do.  However, I don't think it's black people who are being targeted here.  I think this ad is intensely racist against white people.  I mean, check out that ridiculous head-bobbing thing that the manager does during Ms. Blige's performance.  White People do not act like that in real life!  White people are perfectly capable of keeping in rhythm, and moving to music as smoothly as black people, thank you very much!

As a White Person ( I think citizens of Italian/Greek heritage have been considered "white" in this country since the 1920s or so) I deeply resent this ad, and call for Burger King to do the honorable thing and issue an apology.  And allow embedding for the even more obnoxious Jay Leno Drives Into a Burger King in one of his Many Sports Cars ad, which is not only offensive to all races, but to a large number of house cats, plants and rocks, as well.