Well, "greatest" after this big, shiny Chrysler, of course

Yes, if you've got yourself an ostentatious mansion in the 'burbs, a perfect family, and a massive, Look at Me I'm Better Than You SUV to drive them all around in, nothing makes you feel like you aren't quite going to hell like dropping off a few excess gifts at the local toy drive bin.

Hey, Eurotrash dickwad with a car that cost more than it takes to feed Nigeria for a year- if you think your head isn't going to end up on a pike just because you bought a few extra presents for Cody and Dillon so they could experience the Joy of Giving To Their Lessers (and the special joy of doing it in the most showy way imaginable, arriving in Dad's 11 MPG Gleaming Studmobile) you've got another think coming.  You are still heading for the inferno, you pompous one-percent piece of feces.

Want to "give something back?"  Start with that disgustingly unnecessary car of yours.  Turn it in to the dealer, get your money back, buy something just as functional for half the cost, and give the difference to a soup kitchen.  Hey, what a great message that would send your kids- Dad is willing to give up one of HIS toys, too!  Yeah, that's going to happen.

Oh, and "Most Refined Brand?"  Fuck off, Chrysler.

"Road Closed? I don't understand- we're white and rich!"

But not literate, apparently.  Because most people don't really need "road closed" explained to them.

In the real world, lady, this means that you and your privileged hubby and spawn turn your pretty SUV around and go right back down to the visitor's center.  Or better yet, you park your fricking boat right there and start hiking up to "Glacier Point" (really, whatever.)  In short, you get a little education in Just Because You Own This Car Doesn't Mean You Get To Go Everywhere In It, Douchenozzle.

"Keep up keep up keep up"-- yeah, because it's very, very important that you get the view from Glacier Point while sitting your pampered ass on the heated seat of your SUV (note that the kids are so interested in chasing a guy on a dog sled that they are both watching their own cartoons on their own in-seat DVD players.  Jeesh...)

And naturally, it ends with these idiots wanting to be escorted to the next Off-Limits To Motor Vehicles Except Yours Of Course site. Ugh.

Here's how this commercial SHOULD end- turns out the "guide" is just a lunatic (after my own heart) who decides that since these disgusting idiots insist that "Road Closed" simply can NOT apply to them, he'll just take them up the dangerous mountain in their overpriced SuperCar and leave them there to die.  And that's what happens- this lovely family freezes to death, their SUV serving as a lovely tomb trapped in a drift, tires spinning helplessly until the damn thing runs out of gas (well, how long could THAT take?)  Because I am sick to death of reading about people like these choads being rescued from their own asshattery on my dime.

Or they are eaten by those dogs.  Either way.

When a Geico punchline falls in the forest, it makes a sound. It's the audience, groaning.

1.  Yes, "everybody knows that."  Of course, what "everybody knows" is not that "fifteen minutes can save you fifteen percent."  It's "everybody knows that's been Geico's motto since roughly the Polk Administration."

2.  Why does this woman feel compelled to voice the vapid non-thought which popped into her brain when she saw the commercial? Is she showing off her reading skills?  Like "check me out, I can comprehend what the screen says.  Impressive, huh?"

3.  If you are working out and you can carry on a conversation like this, you aren't working out.  These women achieve a more rapid heartbeat sprawled on their couches, surfing their cable selection.

4.  If you didn't know way in advance that the stupid tree falling in the stupid forest was going to say "little help?" you were either not paying attention, REALLY stupid, or a liar.  Because wow, talk about an obvious line.

5.  Is Geico even capable of producing a commercial which effectively sells it's product? Because there's no evidence of this that I have ever seen.

Now, you just need to find freedom from your child-endangering stupidity

I guess the e-cigarette wins her approval because hey, it's not a vaccine.  But anyway....

Maybe now that you've embraced a way to quit smoking, maybe you could break free of your apparent addiction to plastic surgery?

Seriously, woman.  You are 41 years old.  It's not a death sentence.  Own it.  Before you contain more plastic than the Barbie doll you are desperately trying to resemble.

(Oh, and BTW, congratulations on your success in quitting smoking.  I'm told that it's an extremely difficult addiction to escape.  However you actually managed to do it, good for you.  Now please, just grow old gracefully already.  And learn something about vaccines before you do any more harm, moron.)

My long-standing issue with Kentucky FRIED Chicken

It's not this particular commercial, which seems to feature entire families who are so stunted in their ability to show emotion that they think handing someone a deep-fried bird part is an acceptable alternative to using words (but seriously, just look at these weirdos- their whole lives seem to revolve around the ritualistic Sharing Of The Chicken.  What the hell?)

It's not the implied message that Greasy Crap=Love.  Because in a world where Cars=Love, Texts=Love, and Consumption in General=Love, this is pretty tame.

Nope, what has always bothered about me with KFC ads is the Magic Overflowing Bucket which appears in every single one.  It doesn't matter if two people are sharing the chicken, or twenty.  When you see a bucket of KFC, it's always bursting with over-sized legs, thighs and breasts.  At one point in the commercial I embedded here, a leg is delicately lifted from a mountain of pieces which looks in real danger of collapsing under it's own weight. Anyone who has ever actually purchased a bucket of chicken from KFC knows that in real life, the bucket is maybe 2/3 full with a greasy white plastic lid shoved into it.  The overflowing bucket is only possible if you take two buckets and try to shove them together into one.  And that STILL won't get you the huge golden-brown plastic things you see in these ads- generally the fried chicken I've seen from this place is much smaller, darker and drier-looking.

Next time you find yourself watching one of these ads, note that there might be a dozen people sitting around, each one eating chicken- yet at the center of the room you'll see the bucket, still overflowing as if has yet to be touched.  Like some mythical food-providing table cloth or cauldron from an ancient kid's story, except I'm not sure I would actually want to refer to KFC as "food."

However, there is one good thing that comes out of these KFC ads- they give me the opportunity to share one of my favorite scenes from one of my favorite films (skip to 1:16 to see it.)  A bottomless bag of coffee- now THAT'S something I could really use!

JC Penny sticks its own dagger into the heart of humanity. No response required, or permitted

It's hardly surprising that the official version of this ad on YouTube not only forbids embedding, but even commenting.  It's as if JC Penny KNOWS this is atrocious, disgusting garbage and simply doesn't want to hear about it or share it's shame.

So why did they even bother to put together an ad which features people literally begging to say goodbye to the family and giving thanks and all that crap and head off to the crowded mall and overworked, underpaid minions and shop shop shop shop shop, shop shop shop shop?  Do they WANT us to hate them?

If so, mission accomplished.  I'm cutting up my JC Penny card.  And sharing this on my blog, well aware that the video will probably be yanked from YouTube before the end of the day because while Penny's wants to you get the message, they sure as hell don't want you to reflect on it, comment on it, or share it.  Because they know that while they are revoltingly greedy, amoral dickwads, they also know that most of us aren't and will be repelled by this if we just think about it for more than a few seconds.

If he bought houses this frequently, this guy could single-handedly rescue the economy

In the sequel to this stupid little nub of nothing, the fat doofus looking to buy a truck here comes back with his equally vapid, dumb-looking spawn and re-introduces himself to Jan, our favorite frozen-smile Toyota spokeschoad.  I'll be sure to post that one when it pops up on YouTube, but because we all like to be reminded of the original before we catch Part II....

Fat Moron wants a car "to pull his boat."  He lets us know very quickly that it's a Big boat.  Hmmm...big truck.  Big boat.  Big gut.  Big, stupid, flabby face.  Everything about this guy seems to be big.  Well, everything visible, anyway.  Because check out his inability to admit to Jan that his boat is smaller than the freaking SPACE SHUTTLE.  Yeah, that's one confident male you are working with, Jan.

Now we know that fatass drove off with a Toyota Tundra, because less than a year later he's going to be back to purchase a brand new one, ready to hand off the 2012 model to his son (no, seriously.  I'm not kidding.  I need to figure out a way to get this guy to adopt me, so I can get myself a free truck next November when the shiny 2015 models come out and this guy gets distracted by the glowing chrome again.) Are we supposed to relate to an obese douche who can just belly up to the counter at Toyota every 12 months and sign up for lease payments on a new truck?  What planet am I on again?

And who the hell gives a kid a practically-new truck anyway?  Oh wait- that's in the sequel.  Got to save some snark for that one.  Sorry.