Every Cult begins with Kay?

Ok, the squigginess of this commercial has been done to death- everyone and their little brother has pointed out that this guy seems to be trying to form the same relationship with the little girl that he has with the mom, that the little girl is being paid off to accept Boyfriend as the New Man in Mom's Life, etc. etc.  I don't really have any more to add to that particular storyline that hasn't been said on YouTube and other blogs, and I'm not so desperate for material that I'm willing to just repeat the opinion of pretty much everyone who has seen this ad, so....

I think instead I'll focus on the weird design Jane Seymour tells us that she came up with for her jewelry.  It's not that it's pretty boring and unimaginative- it's that it shows up so many times I think that it's trying to subliminally burn itself into my brain.  Look, there it is in the box.  Look, Mommy's wearing one.  Look, Dr. Quinn is wearing one- and LOOK, she's got a freaking FRAMED PAINTING OF IT ON HER DESK!  Is this a piece of jewelry, or the membership key to a forbidden palace (or, at least, very exclusive club) somewhere?

Ok, that wasn't as interesting a take as I thought it would be.  So...umm.....doesn't it look like Mommy's New Boyfriend is trying to hook up with that little girl?  Man, that's weird.

Hey, Bud Lite? I cracked the code, too!

"I don't understand....every time I turn around, this stupid commercial is playing on my television screen..."

"Which means that roughly 200 times per NFL game, I get to watch this insipid, ugly jerk stand at the door of his basement, contemplating a life in which he not only owns a house, but has no trouble filling it with attractive people every Sunday afternoon....attractive, fun-loving people who apparently consume a lot of beer, since he's going down to the basement to fetch more several times a game...."

"Which means that this guy's life is much, much better than mine, despite the fact that he doesn't approach me in the looks department, and as for taste...well, jeesh, he keeps a basement full of Bud Lite...."

"Which means that I, too, have cracked the code.  God Hates Me."

I got me some serious money management issues!

That first guy- ugh, seriously?

And LoanMax lends money with car titles as collateral- even when the car has a "major repair job" that needs to get done?  Hmm, sounds pretty good- for people whose credit is so firmly in the toilet that they can't get a credit card or a bank loan.  Cripes, why do I get the feeling that every stick of furniture and every electronic device these people possess has a Rent-a-Center label on it?

"I got me some money."  Oh no-- he didn't actually say that.  LoanMax didn't actually get a black wannabee actor to say that, did they?  Sigh.

Oh my God- she's turning into Howard Hughes!

Ok, I get that "you can't put a couch in a washing machine"- but you CAN put blankets and sheets in a washing machine, Insane Woman With a Can of Lysol.  I get the impression here that you've just decided to replace actually doing laundry with just constantly spraying dirty things with this stuff.

Which means that you've gone completely insane- so completely insane, in fact, that you haven't even noticed that the "family" you mention is long gone- they obviously got sick of the nauseating smell of Lysol hovering over everything, not to mention living in a house full of dirty, sticky clothes damp with liquid germ killer.  Clearly Lysol is not kind to brain cells.

Calling BSers on their BS. "Inspired" by Fios

Never mind a deep analysis of this ad's obvious message- "we are taking note of our critics and are only too happy to come after you if we don't like what you say," let's just take a closer look at the disgusting, pasty douchenozzles who actually took the time to stop sucking their thumbs and bitch about a service which would have seemed utterly miraculous less than twenty years ago:

"Did you say 'my internet is so bad that it's giving my kids psychological problems?"

Steve: "Yes."

When Steve acknowledges that, yes, he admitted that his kids are so fucking shallow that less than stellar internet service is causing them deep emotional, life changing distress (or that HE is so fucking shallow that he thinks "Despicable Me 2 isn't streaming fast enough" equals "psychological distress") he's naturally treated to an upgrade.  Because the Dumbest Wheel gets the grease, after all.

"My internet is so slow it would be faster to look things up in the library?"  Did you post this?

"Yes."

Umm, when was the last time you were at a library?  When was the last thing you looked up other than the location of the nearest 24-hour Little Caesar's?  Are you actually trying to convince me that you are doing research in something you wouldn't mind your neighbors finding out about?

"My internet is so slow it's like a car without gas."

Did you post this, Lindsay S?  You did? Well, lady, a poet you are NOT.  You are aware, of course, that a car without gas isn't slow, it's stationary, right?  I mean, did you put any thought into your comment at all?

A few more honest visits like this, and these moron jackanapes will shut their whineholes and just accept the fact that not having Everything Right Now isn't the absolute worst thing in the world.  At least, we can hope.

Shopping for Daddy Dearest?

Seriously, the trepidation- no make that downright Fear- in this woman's voice is simply frightening.  And then add in the panicky, "oh god let's not have another Christmas with Cigarette Burns All Around like last year, Someday Mommy will take you kids someplace safe but for now, Daddy is Daddy and we just want peace, ok?" dialogue and we are left with absolutely nothing funny here.

"We only have four hours to find Daddy a present and he's gotta have the best..." Four hours?  In a mall which looks like it has about a hundred shops but only a few dozen people actually doing any shopping?  Why do I get the feeling that every other present this woman has bought her husband has been a Nice Try Honey But Not Quite Good Enough I Guess You Don't Love Me As Much As I Love You failure?

"I need you to be a rock..." this woman is quite literally freaking out- and is begging her six-year old daughter to be Strong For Mommy during this Terrifying Time.  Again- there's nothing funny here.  It's really just sad and I'm sure there's an abuse hotline this woman really needs to become acquainted with.  Nobody should live like this, Mommy- but just because you are willing to tolerate Life on the Razor's Edge, doesn't mean you get to project your terror on to those poor kids.

Mommy looks so relieved when she sees that she can buy Daddy a cell phone (he doesn't already have one? Hmmm....) So, she's done already and the next four hours can be spent doing something nice and relaxing with the kids?

No, I actually kind of doubt it.  More likely, the cell phone koisk is just the first stop in what will be a long, painful voyage which takes this family from one upscale shop to another, running up a big Visa bill purchasing gloves, a scarf, a leather jacket, a new electric razor, and don't forget what happened the last time you came home without Daddy's favorite Tequila, Mommy.  All purchased with the dim hope that maybe, just maybe, Daddy will like his gifts enough to respond with something other than cutting put-downs or angry rants which end with Mommy applying ice to her face as she explains to the kids that Daddy Just Doesn't Feel Very Well Today So We Should Be Extra Quiet and He Really Loves Us Very Much You Know That's Why We Have This Beautiful House We Should All Be Grateful For All He Does For Us.

I know you would never consider this, Mommy- but you can do a lot with a four-hour head start.  Again, there are 800-numbers out there, the moment you are ready to draw the line and take a step toward a sane, happy life for you and your children.  I don't know anything else about you, but I know you deserve better- because everyone does.  Good luck.

In the end, I guess I just hate everyone in this Kay Jewelers commercial. Nothing new about that.

I swear this commercial showed up no less than 1200 times during two NFL games last Sunday.  And it just got more cloying and banal and just plain dumb and pointless with each airing.  By halftime of the second game, I had it memorized, and had gone from wanting the Judgmental Seriously Who Asked Your Opinion Old Man to just waddle outside and die in a snowbank to actually being on his side and reminding The Boyfriend that he's a guest in someone's home and not on his own couch in his own apartment.

I mean, come on.  Come up for air, people  Lady? It's a freaking watch.  Get over it.

At the same time- Stupid Old Man?  Your ass isn't nailed to that chair, is it?  How about stretching your legs for a bit?  Better yet- instead of bitching about toys that need batteries (how old is this guy?  Most of the toys I got when I was a kid needed batteries, and I bet his did, too. Jesus is he going to start waving his cane around and shaking his fist at clouds next?) how about playing with your grandkids?  Trust me, the young couple that is just trying to share a moment won't miss you and your running commentary one damned bit.

Oh, and "looks like we got a man here?"  Um, why- because he didn't get your (daughter? Granddaughter?) a toy or cell phone or computer for Christmas? What exactly is superior about a piece of jewelry?  What the hell is the matter with you?

Oh wait, I forgot.  No more running commentary, please.  I believe there's still a snowbank out there with your name on it.