Could the Subaru at least burst into flames for no reason during the ride back?

I don't care what kind of car this Subaru is- I don't care what kind of gas mileage it gets, what kind of warranty it comes with, or how much legroom it offers.  I don't care about it's safety rating, nor do I care how many it seats.  And I sure don't care how much it costs.

Nothing can distract me from the ad's central message- women exist to frantically follow scruffy Eurotrash-wannabee hipster doofuses as they tick off the items on their upscale bucket lists.  While begging for help in doing so over 1980s-style walkie-talkies (seriously- here's an opportunity to include a cell phone being used for a practical purpose, and you punt? What is the matter with you, Subaru?)

"Do you know where you are going?" "Wherever the wind takes me."  (Deleted line: "So just keep following me, and keep your mouth shut, Woman Fortunate Enough to be Married to Me.")

"You are so off course."  This gets no reply.  Guy in Balloon is done talking to his ride home.  Her annoyance at his thoughtless asshattery, which basically translates into his leading her through the countryside by the nose, has absolutely no impact on him.  Of course, she's no prize herself-  crunching squirrels and other wildlife as she roars through private property to keep up with the Dick She's Inexplicably Attached To.

Oh, but she gets to throw a quip at the end.  To which he responds with a smirk which for all the world says to me "hey, if you think you've just won something, all the better for me- I'm the one who got to ride in a balloon all fucking day while you followed me around in a Subaru."

"Wherever the wind takes me."  Tell me you didn't want a horrible, fatal balloon mishap at that moment which ended with this scumbag being pried up from a manure-ridden country field by an army of crows bearing spatulas.  Jesus, what a jerk.

Makes the people responsible for McDonalds ads look like geniuses

My first thought upon viewing this commercial:  It's ten seconds too long.  I mean, we get it.  Here are some cool things.  A big fish.  A cute dog.  A pizza.  People shouting "WOOOO!"  Done and done- yet it goes on and on.

My second thought upon viewing this commercial:  It features jackasses who give me a headache, and I just know that there are going to be idiots with I-Phones making LOL Hilarious parodies, proving that they can be just as talented at being morons as the WOOOOO people in this ad.  I have no doubt that they will be 100 percent successful.

My third thought:  Are these guys showing each other their personal dinner menus?  Is that woman going to eat that dog?

And my final thought: Where is a stubborn, half-blind, 90-year old man at the wheel of a tractor trailer truck when you need one?  How about an asteroid?  Flash flood?  Something, Anything to wipe these idiots off the planet, and my tv screen, ASAP?

Miller Lite: I'm still waiting for the "Only Kidding"

I can't be the only person out there who thought that this was a parody ad when first viewed.

Once I realized that Oh My God, Miller Lite has actually stooped to adding an area at the top of the can which can be punched with any sharp object to encourage the more rapid drinking of beer, I tried to focus on what people were using to do the punching.  Did each case come with an official Miller Lite-Approved Sharp Object, Keep out of the Reach of Children?  Nope- these people are using car keys, can openers, oily screwdrivers, rocks, drumsticks, sarcasm- anything sharp- to get that stupid hole punched in so that they can consume their beers and move on to, well, more beer.

I don't actually see all these objects in the ad, but I get the idea, and I can imagine that each and every one of them has already been used to access the flow enhancement properties of Miller Lite.  And considering the quality of people who drink this crap, I expect that we'll soon be learning of injuries involving shards of broken glass, cat claws, pens, pencils (look for "is it safe for me to drink the beer if it's got lead floating in it somewheres?" posts at the Official Miller Lite Website soon) and ricocheting BBs.  Naturally Miller Lite will be producing a line of Designer Hole Punchers (probably featuring the autograph of your "favorite" NASCAR driver) before the summer is up- that is, unless this idea goes the way of Crystal Pepsi and gets laughed off the stage before the leaves begin to fall.

Meanwhile-- hey, Miller Lite?  You should warn people not to try to use their wit to create the holes.  If they are taken in by this stupid ad, it's not anywhere near sharp enough. 

"How you like me now?"*  Same as before.   This is Miller Lite.  Same shit, different can.  Earth to Miller: the problem isn't the can, it's the contents.  I know that's harder to fix, but there it is.

*More than one classic YouTube poster has asked "what's this song?"  I'm not kidding.

Another painfully familiar scene, courtesy of Chase Sapphire

Remember when you bumped into these people at your favorite low-cost hamburger joint?

You were just settling into your booth with your significant other for a burger and french fries and a little lighthearted talk.   You got your menus, you ordered your drinks, you started skimming the entrees.  No fuss, no muss, no problem.

Then they came in.  Two little kids and their dad (or at least, it SEEMED that their dad was there- kind of hard to tell, when you consider the behavior that followed.)  Naturally, they were put into the booth right behind you.  Maybe you didn't know it at that moment, but your plans for a quiet lunch were over the second they sat down.

Because for the next forty minutes, the kids would not stay in their seats for more than five seconds at a time.  Because they continuously leaned into your space, stared at you, and asked you to say "hi" to them.  (Being a civilized human being, you didn't say what you wanted to say, but instead replied "hi" to this total stranger you had no interest in talking to.  What you wanted to say was "get the fuck out of my face, where the hell is your father?")  Because they would not stop kicking the back of your seat.

And then the food came.  They threw french fries at each other, blew into their straws and splashed milkshake all over their table, fought over the ketchup and used every napkin at their table to make hats, parachutes- everything but for wiping their greasy faces.   You couldn't get your iced tea refilled, because your waitress was at their table pretty much every minute, waiting for them to decide what kind of ice cream they wanted, then replacing each kid's dessert twice because A) it wasn't Exactly What They Wanted, and B) It Spilled, Sorry.  

And all the time, "Dad" just sat there with a dumb look on his face, like he was so pleased that his asshole kids were bothering other people and not just him for a change- or more, likely, he was completely oblivious to the concept that maybe there were people in the restaurant other than himself and his worthless spawn.   I've had plenty of experience with "parents" who just assume that everyone finds their kids as delightful as they do- or think that if they have to put up with the little nasties 24/7, that's pain that should be shared on occasion, and if we are annoyed, we should seriously just fuck off.

Anyway,  Dickweed Dad, finally realizing that he had milked the whole Share My Family With The World thing for as long as he could, whipped out his Chase Sapphire card and handed it to the ever-present, and by now completely exhausted, waitress.  When he walked out of the place with his idiot kids, he left behind plenty of evidence that they had enjoyed themselves immensely- a mountain of napkins under the table, several puddles of milkshake on it, about a hundred globs of ketchup everywhere....

Oh, and a five percent tip.  These people are NEVER generous with their tipping- my guess is that they think the Joy Their Kids Bring is more than enough.  All of this putting the waitress in just the right mood to give you and your date a little attention, now that you are about ready to leave. 

Hey, Dad?  Maybe next time, you could just order a fricking pizza?  I know that means we are deprived of your wonderful boys, and you'll have to clean up your own god damned mess, but we'd like to have a nice dinner out sometime too, you know.

Oh, what am I thinking?  People like you don't give a flying crap about anything but your own convenience.  Sorry if I confused you.

I guess I just have a different idea of "Fun," Xfinity

These Xfinity "Fun=Television" commercials were never especially interesting.  Now they are really starting to piss me off.

They all carry the same message- there is absolutely, positively nothing more enjoyable than watching people do things on a screen.  Want to relax by yourself?  Don't even think about picking up a book- just watch this.  Big screen hanging on the wall, small screen sitting in your hand, no matter.  As long as you are watching.  Quality time with the family?  That means gathering on the couch, pushing a button, and spending the next two hours- you guessed it- staring at the screen again.  I guess the only real difference between being alone and being with family is your ability to stretch out on the couch- and the amount of time it takes to get to the bottom of the popcorn bowl.

Oh, and again with the "connectivity" bit.  You can be with your mom even when you can't- there she is, waving at you from that same. Fricking. Screen.  Gee, she looks happy to see you, even to the point of waving like the stupid, clueless dumbass she is (why do people wave at cameras?  I've never understood this.)  When you get older, don't you dare bitch about the lack of parental supervision- Mom was always there for you, right there in the kitchen, on that screen.  She even gave you an "I love you" look and a wave.  What more could you ask for?

All this is marketed under the phrase "Endless Fun."  Somehow, I managed to have a lot of fun when I was a kid without all this crap.  No, it wasn't "Endless," but that's ok, because I imagine an imaginary land in which people had "Endless Fun" would be like that story where it's Christmas every day- it gets very cloying and boring.  What makes fun is the fact that it's not the ordinary routine.  Watching television was fun when I was a kid because the shows we viewed were usually on once a week, and if you missed it you had to wait for a rerun.  (If you missed a Christmas Special, like The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, it was pretty darned near the end of the world, because you'd be waiting an entire year before getting a chance to see it again.  So you didn't miss it.)  I can't see how television is fun today, with On Demand and Hulu and Netflix and a thousand other ways to watch anything you want, any time you want, over and over again.

Know what's still fun? Hiking, swimming, playing Whiffle Ball in the backyard.  Baseball games.  Hersheypark.  The beach.  Buying food for hungry students Just Because. Know what all this has in common?  None of it involves a cable company, a satellite, or a glowing screen.  Which means none of it provides Endless Fun, I guess.  I'll take them anyway, though.

"The Mess Behind the Glory," Indeed

Back in the day, we used to call parents who woke their kids up at 4 AM every morning to hit the skating rink, dragged their five year olds to soccer, football, baseball and gymnastics and turned them over to sadistic coaches, and made them learn every musical instrument ever invented before they reached first grade Overcompensating Assholes.  Today, apparently, they are called Bring It Moms.


As near as I can tell, Bounty Paper Towels is currently celebrating Bring It Moms, those women who Couldn't Quite Achieve Success in Life Themselves Nothing to do With Them it Was Politics Plus they Grew Too Fast Despite the Asparagus Diet Mom Put Them On in Third Grade but who nowadays go Out of Their Way to Make Sure Their Kids Achieve Their Dreams ("their" meaning the kids, not the parents, and don't you dare say otherwise, Parent of a Loser Kid Who Has Fewer Trophies than Mine.)

These Moms went the Extra Mile by "letting" their kids turn their palatial suburban estates with massive living rooms into makeshift gyms- because the eight hours they forced their kids to be at the ACTUAL gyms under the iron control of aforementioned trainer wasn't always (ever) enough.  After all, it's a damned tough, competitive world out there, and it's NEVER too early for kids to learn this.  Mommy had to, and it did her a world of good, even though she did end up letting her parents, her Community, her Country, and God down by failing to make the Extremely Mini Olympics back in '76.  Sure it cost her all of her friends and any chance at a healthy, mentally stable adulthood, but she gained an eating disorder.  That's life, and you damned better get used to it.

Meanwhile, being old enough to perform gymnastics at a level that gets you considered for an Olympic slot (although "considered" is just code for "failure," honey) apparently doesn't mean being old enough to clean up your own Carnation Instant Breakfast, which yes Will Be the Only Thing You Have to Eat Today, There Will be Plenty of Time to be a Pig and eat Pig Food like the other Not Going to the Olympics kids When you Hit 14 and Your Life is Over.  The "Hardest Job in the World" isn't being one of these obsessive creeps.  It's being one of their kids.


Other than wiping up after their future therapy patients, I'm not exactly sure what we are supposed to be thanking these pushy pricks for.  Maybe we are supposed to thank them because their kids, when they grow up and move out of the house, never will?  (you don't hear "thanks for robbing me of my childhood, separating me from my non-athletic friends, and sending me to that special camp that none of my classmates went to every summer" all that often.  Ungrateful little bastards, they never appreciate a Bring it Mom's sacrifice.)  Are we really supposed to thank them for molding their offspring into people who will give us roughly fifteen seconds of entertainment value this summer- fifteen seconds which will be forgotten as soon as Something Else Comes on Television?  For a chance to chant "USA!USA!" because some kid we don't know and couldn't really give a damn about managed to be a little faster or a little stronger than the kid from The Ukraine or the People's Republic of China whom we also don't know and couldn't give a damn about?  


Does anyone really chant "USA! USA!" for any reason, ever?


Oh and BTW, do any of these kids have Fathers?  Or did they cut and run from the Bring it Moms when they realized that they were married to child-abusing lunatics?  If so, couldn't they have taken the poor kids with them?

One more thing- doesn't the "It" in "Bring It Moms" refer to the children? Anyone else have a problem with this?

Just to clear up any misunderstandings from my previous post

I think that these are the among the most effective ads on television, because they appeal to our basic humanity.

I don't think of pets as human beings, and though I adored the dog I grew up with (a beautiful Golden Retriever named Herman,) I don't think I ever considered him like a sibling.  After all, he was outside almost all the time, in all kinds of weather (I grew up on a farm and all of our pets were primarily "outside animals.")  And I think that people who insist that their animals are their "babies" are more than a little ridiculous (when they feel this way despite the fact that they have actual human children, the insistence moves beyond ridiculous and into the realm of sick- again, in my own humble opinion.)

True story:  I heard a woman on television once asked if she could only save her cat or her baby from a burning building, which would it be?  She actually had to think about it for a few seconds before responding "my baby," and then "apologetically" added that she considers both her cat and the human being that came out of her as "her babies."

All this being said, I think that anyone who would abuse an animal is the lowest form of life on earth, and should be subject to the harshest possible punishment.   Just as I can't imagine what goes on in the minds of people who would harm a child, I truly cannot fathom how anyone could justify hurting or neglecting an animal.  And it's not because they look sad and confused, wanting only to earn our love and to give it in return.  I'd feel the same way if we were talking about snakes or racoons or any other animal that doesn't have the slightest interest or motivation in pleasing us, but just wants to occupy this planet too.  It's because they are God's creatures, and who the hell do we think we are to treat them like this?

I also can't imagine that anyone who treats an animal like this is going to be all that more decent to the human beings they encounter on a regular basis.  An abuser is an abuser.  In a world that is way too coarse and unfeeling, their contribution is, to say the least, unwelcome.

Hope this clears things up, and spares me the wrath of the pet owners out there.