At this point, I'd rather Geico just start battering me with a blunt instrument than continue to subject me to this garbage

If you think you can stomach it, check out the responses to this abomination on YouTube.  Everyone there thinks this is hysterical- more than one guy "cracks up every time he sees it."  Several are just so full of mirth over this As Usual The Punchline Doesn't Come Close To Justifying The Setup bowl of pond scum that all they can manage is to repeat "Hump Day!"

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you: Our future.  God help us all.

Anyway, there's no reason to believe that this Geico's latest headache-and-bile-inducing ad campaign is going to let up any time soon.  Not as long as the adult children over at YouTube continue to enjoy sucking down sewage and calling it steak.  But the sixth airing of this ad in the past hour on AMC has more than convinced me to change the channel and go into my 20th year of having car insurance which is Not Geico.

Meanwhile, good luck in your continued scraping of the barrel, Geico.  I'm sure it gives you great pleasure to know that a large population of dim bulbs finds your commercials entertaining enough to comment on (hiding behind fake names, at least- that counts for something, right?)   Me?  I just want everyone involved in this concept to die horribly.  Like most things that I want, that's too much to ask, of course.

Bursting two bubbles with one blog

1.  "It's nice to be on a site where....guys are actually looking for a woman my age...."

Well, I guess if you want to look at it that way, you are entitled, lady.  But let me clue you in:  The only guys out there who are looking for a woman over fifty are in their seventies or eighties, and have given up hope of snagging someone even younger.  They aren't looking for you, but they are willing to settle for you.  If you find that flattering, you really need to check out this other guy....

2.  "I got my first flirt within ten minutes of being on the site....yeah...."

Seriously, this is like a bagel that believes it's popular because ten seconds after it was tossed on the beach, it was being fought over by three seagulls.  Hey, buddy?  The site is designed to reel in desperate, sagging people who just don't want to die alone and (as previously noted) have given up trying to hook a young hottie.  You aren't a bad looking guy, and your surface appearance suggests you've got some financial security.  That makes you very, very attractive to the audience you've chosen to appear before.  Like a Snickers bar left out on a hot sidewalk is super-appealing to an ant colony.  If you find that flattering, please introduce yourself to that first woman.  You were made for each other.

But hey, at least you aren't trying out Christian Mingle, and are announcing "yes, I'm lonely and desperate, but I'm still going to start off by vetoing the vast majority of people out there who don't belong to my particular branch of Southern North American Presby-Lutheranism" ( I stole that from The Simpsons.  Not a real church.  I don't think.)

Actual Product Being Peddled Here: An Ejector Seat

Or perhaps a law firm specializing in quickie divorces?

This video eventually presented as Exhibit A in the case against John Smith, accused of murdering his wife and burying it in a shallow grave somewhere in the West Virginia wilderness.  Ultimately the jury rules in favor of Smith and his plea of Self Defense.

Seriously, what else is there to say about this ad?  "I'm too hot."  "I'm freezing."  Get your own car, lady- and until then, shut your complain hole!

And another charming episode from Samsung, the gift that just keeps giving...

1.  Why do all these commercials feature people using their amazing Samsung Galaxy phones in places where you'd expect an actual television (complete with much bigger, more visible screen) to be readily available?  In one from last year, a woman is sitting on her couch watching a Packers game....on her phone.  "This is perfect" she sighs.  Really?  Then what would you call actually being able to SEE the action on that television five feet from you? "Paradise?"  I can't think of one good reason why the guy in this ad isn't just watching his television.

2.  Why do all of these commercials featuring Daddy and Baby never, ever show Daddy talking to Baby instead of treating it like a lumpy package which needs to be held for a short time (until Mommy gets back to doing "her" job?)  In these ads Daddy is ALWAYS staring at his phone, carrying on conversations with someone on his phone, or doing both at the same time- meanwhile, Baby is enjoying it's--ahem--"quality time" with Daddy, I guess.  Is this what real life looks like?  You'd think that Daddy might use at least SOME of this time to get to know his kid- look right into his face, talk to him, laugh with him, etc. etc- instead of acting as if it's just a warm bundle of something which makes it kind of awkward to do stuff with his precious phone.  This shit seriously makes me sick- next time you and your Significant Other feel like your lives are missing something, I suggest you just upgrade your goddamned phones and leave the having kids thing to people who, oh, I don't know- WANT TO HAVE KIDS.

Point of Personal Privilege: Death of James Gandolfini

I was taking my late-afternoon walk yesterday, switching channels on my XM radio, and happened to land on Shepard Smith of Fox "News" talking about "reports that caused jaws to drop in this studio...the untimely death of a giant of a man, people here looked at each other in disbelief, could this be true?"  I waited for maybe thirty seconds to find out exactly WHO this very important person whose death was so sudden and unexpected and shocking and then learned it was....

James Gandolfini.  A television and movie star.  Known by about 99 percent of the public solely for his work on The Sopranos.

I instantly realized that I would be unable to watch any of the news shows that night on Fox, MSNBC, or CNN, unless I wanted to be dragged through an endless Mobius strip of solemn-faced yakkers expressing shock and sadness that an actor on a show they all inexplicably worshiped had died.  Oh, and absolute SHOCK that an obese chain-smoker could die of a heart attack at the tender age of fifty-one.

(Sidebar:  Anyone who has any experience watching reports of celebrity deaths knows that events like heart attacks and car crashes are simply not supposed to happen to these Very Important People.  Those standard, boring ways of passing are reserved to us Mortals.  Dying in private plane crashes, ski accidents, or overdoses- that's fine.  Car crashes and heart attacks?  Please.  I give this 24 hours, tops, before we start hearing the James Gandolfini Was Murdered By The Mob rumors.)

Ok, back to the point of this particular rant:  Through it's entire run, I probably viewed less than half a dozen episodes of The Sopranos, and then only because I think a law was passed requiring that I do so, and being unable to slack off work to discuss the show the next day made one a Social Outcast.  My principle relationship with the show was that it convinced at least one new student a year to ask me why, being an Italian-American, I didn't belong to the Jersey Mob, because aren't ALL Italian-Americans in the Mob?

To me, James Gandolfini playing Tony Soprano, feeding into every anti-Italian Stereotype that non-Italians have of Italians, always rubbed me the wrong way.  I tried to imagine the reaction if Denzel Washington played a Stephin Fetchit character on a cable tv series- and became the most popular, beloved character on TV for doing it.

No, I am not asking for Italian-Americans to comment on whether they found The Sopranos offensive.  I'm not trying to conduct a poll, and my distaste for the show and it's characterization of one-fourth of my heritage doesn't hinge on the opinions of others.  I'm just using my blog to explain why I am switching channels whenever I see a ponderous, pointless "tribute" to a guy who was basically playing Marlon Brando for HBO.  That's all.

Back to commercials tomorrow, I promise.

"Signed, Bored Moron Loser with a Stamp"

Dear Chex,

I've never written a fan letter before, but LOL am I ever a fan of your amazing Family of Cereals!  You really have something for everyone- I've always been a big fan of Rice Chex, and the Twins are just crazy for Corn Chex and Wheat Chex (I thought you had to be at least seventy to like Wheat Chex, boy was I wrong. ) You learn something new every day (YOU do- I sure don't!)

And when my husband Tom learned about Chocolate Chex, well, we were in Chocolate Heaven!

Anyway, as you can probably guess from this letter, I've been dead for quite some time now!  I used to get really good grades in school, and for a while I imagined I'd go to college and establish a career and maybe do something important and unique in my life.  But one day I met a guy who could put me in a house and buy me stuff and get me pregnant every few years, and he made it sound so easy, so I just said Fuck It, took the ring and moved in. Then I died, but that doesn't stop me from pouring the milk on your awesome cereal LOL!

Several children later, I'm writing Fan Letters to a Cereal Company!  I'd call that a Miracle, wouldn't you? Please?

Anyway, Tom is off to work, the kids are off to school, and I'm off to find where I put that bleach bucket LOL!  Just thought I'd let you know how much we, the Macgregor Family, enjoy Chex!  We really, really do you know!

Signed, Mrs. Tom Macgregor of the Macgregor Family ( I can't even remember by maiden name LOL!)

Anytown, USA

The Next Big thing is The Same Old Joke

Sigh.  Here we go again.....

This has to be Episode #47,000,000 or so in the Adventures of Doofus Daddy and his Hilarious Attempts to Actually Take Care of the Baby He Helped Make.   Ad agencies simply cannot get enough of this particular show, can they?

Each chapter shows basically the same guy- a young sperm donor- doing basically the same thing- struggling with some mindless, child related chore which naturally is extremely hard for him to pull of because, after all, he's got this whole Y Chromosome thing going so of course actually handling a baby isn't really his normal gig.  What's supposed to make this endlessly repeating storyline so "funny" is that Daddy is attempting to do something that, really, only Mommies know how to do.  Instinctively.

We don't see the other Regular in this particular episode- that's the All-Knowing In the Ways of Baby Wife, who knew how to Swaddle babies before she herself was out of the crib, we can assume.  Females are genetically engineered to swaddle babies, spread Nutella, and use Bounty paper towels-- it's why they have four fingers and a thumb on each hand, after all.  But we hear her on the phone, and she sounds positively apologetic that some emergency called her away from her natural role of swaddler and forced to her to leave that responsibility in the hands of a person who, as I've already pointed out, simply isn't up to the task.  She even sounds a little surprised that he hasn't managed to kill HER kid in his attempts to wrap a blanket around it.

And why has Daddy been so successful at wrapping a blanket around his kid, when loading a weapon, changing the oil on the family's pickup or squirting Round-Up on the weeds in the sidewalk are far more suited to his talents?  Because he's able to ask his phone for help (more specifically, he's able to ask YouTube for help, but whatever.)  The Swaddling Tips (sick of that word yet?) have naturally been posted by....a woman.  Well, what did we expect?

I'm not even going to comment on the "baby defecates/wets all over the blanket just as Daddy manages to get it wrapped up" punchline.  That's just to get a chuckle out of the mentally deficient droolers who have reached their twenties and still think that baby farts and "that's going to be a wet one" are just CLASSIC.  It's entirely predictable and even necessary here, because after all, if Baby just sat there happy and dry in Daddy's arms, that would imply that Daddy had done something right and all was going to be well, and that's just crazy talk.

I'm just going to assume that Mommy will get home before this helpless mammal (or the baby it's holding) needs to be fed.  Because if Daddy has to figure out all by himself which end of the bottle is supposed to go into Baby's mouth,  I don't give Baby much chance of surviving.  And if Daddy ever loses his connection to YouTube, that thin chance diminishes to basically nothing.  Because when it comes to Daddy and Babies- well, they just don't mix.  Television says so.  Again, and again, and again.