Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Passive-Aggressiveness in a Jell-O Ad
Wow, really- mom* decided to show her disgust at daughter's cell phone obsession by encasing the thing in a bowl of Jell-O?
Somehow this is preferable to setting simple boundaries, like "this is how long you are allowed to use your phone each day- and if you go over that amount, you'll lose it?" I get that "you'll have a cell phone when you can pay for it, including the monthly bill" is Totally Out There Unrealistic in 21st century America, but are parents simply not allowed to set any rules at all anymore?
Anyone else think that his family needs some serious counseling, that this ad isn't the slightest bit funny, and that daughter really needs actual parents who will actually Do Their Freaking Job and establish a few- you know, "rules" she must live by? There's more to life than your phone, stupid- but your current parents don't seem interested in teaching you that. They'd rather roll their eyes, shrug their shoulders, and cut off their own noses to spite their faces by ruining phones (the only way that thing got into that Jello was if it was placed in there while it was still in liquid form- if people try this in real life, they are going to end up with a broken phone. And you KNOW these parents will replace it, quickly, because they have no interest in listening to daughter's DT-level rants if she has to go without a phone for more than a few minutes.)
(BTW, how did Daughter lose her phone in the first place? Isn't it basically connected to her hand? Was she in the shower while it was being swiped, or what?)
*Yes, I'm assuming it was Mom who made the Jell-O. This is TV, after all, and on TV Moms do the food prep and cleaning and child care, and Jell-O is way too complicated for guys anyway.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Hey, Bank of America? Keep it to yourself, it's my life!*
Larry has spent his entire "life" being a disgusting, money-and-death-obsessed creep. He started very young, using Grown-Up phrases like "under-served season" to describe winter because having a Hot Chocolate stand just for the fun of it simply would not do for Larry. Oh, and then he walked out on his "partner" because his "partner" would not "offer a 401(k) plan" (my guess is that this happened because the little boy who just wanted to make a few extra bucks raking leaves was concentrating on being a kid and not on being too old to work anymore- in other words, wasn't willing to go through life with a gigantic pole rammed up his ass like Larry.)
Everything worked out fine for Larry- he managed to find a woman to marry him and produce a kid (being totally devoid of human emotion beyond "how has my portfolio performed since I checked it five minutes ago?") and was even willing to part with some of his precious money to buy a gilded cage--err, house-- for said woman. Now he can pretend that his fixation on Having Enough Later has something to do with them- he's just being responsible, you see. Never mind that he's just doing what he's been doing his whole life- he just found someone to clean up around him and have sex with from time to time in the off-moments he's not doing it.
Everything is NOT going to work out fine for that kid, though. Check out the abacus- Larry is willing to look up from his screen now and then to make sure that the next generation is just as damaged by pointless Move Money Around Until You Die And Pretend This Is Really A Fulfilling Way To Go Through Life as he is. That's a nice house but....still. Poor kid.
*Title is a shout-out to the YouTube droolers who bleat "what is that song?" in the comments section of every commercial posted- seriously, what is the matter with you idiots?
Monday, April 7, 2014
Well, at least they're outside. Still- Chex Worship?
Oh, and this doesn't seem to require the use of cell phones or tablets either, so maybe I shouldn't be snarking on this so much, but....
I think we can safely conclude that The Pearsons have completely run out of ideas for family activities, don't you? I mean, they apparently devoted an entire afternoon to making a commercial about their favorite cereal brand. Worse, they did a lot of it on their lawn, in full view of the neighbors....I hope nobody was trying to sell their house that day. I can see the Century 21 lady trying to distract potential buyers who might not be thrilled at moving in next to these dipsy lunatics.
And just another pet peeve here- women who narrate commercials and refer to their families as "The Pearsons" or the "McCullens" or the "Smiths," etc. I really hate when these people are so gosh-darned proud to have dumped their birth names overboard in order to better submerge their personalities with their husbands. I'm glad I've lived long enough to see more and more women keeping their "maiden" (gag) names or at least using hyphens, and to more or less see the extinction of the obnoxiously awful "Mrs. Henry Jones" bit, but I really hope I live a little longer and get to see the day when it becomes standard for women to just keep their last names when they get married. It's the 21st century, for cripes sake- women don't become the branded property of their husbands when they accept a ring, so what the hell are we still clinging to this stupid tradition?
Sunday, April 6, 2014
Because Being Common is for the Commoners
Know what matters? That in this mass-produced, one-click, cookie-cutter, one-size-fits-all world, which sometimes seems to be designed for the Great Unwashed Masses known as the Middle Class and Poor, if you have a lot of money you can still have a unique driving experience by purchasing an Audi.
So leave the dry spaghetti, Prego, frozen fish sticks, and (snigger) hand-held cell phones to the Not Nearly As Good As You mob. You are way, way above that. Get yourself a red Audi with this "communications" system you can activate with--errr, one click-- and let the world know who is really running this place.
Bite me, Audi. Bite me really, really hard. This commercial is Exhibit A when the People's Courts are called and the guillotines are being mass-produced (there's that phrase again) by the people you can't be satisfied to simply ignore, but felt the need to sneer at with crud ads like this. I'll bring an extra large basket for your swelled heads. Dicktards.
Saturday, April 5, 2014
Hotels.com solves a problem which has always been very common for me
I can't tell you how many times I've faced this dilemma which I'm sure is familiar to pretty much every guy out there- or, at least, every guy out there who even approaches me in the looks department (there have got to be some, right?)
I make eye contact with a hot girl at a bar. Since I'm obviously about to strike up a conversation with the hot girl, and since she's obviously going to want me, the first thing that pops into my mind is "uh oh....where am I going to find a hotel to shag this girl in, at THIS hour, without reservations?" I know what you're thinking- couldn't I just use my iPhone to scroll through choices while she's stroking my leg and begging me to take her out of there (which should be happening, oh, I don't know, five minutes after I've introduced my gorgeous and awesome self?) Sure I could- but hey, I'm a gentleman. I put my phone away when I'm seducing strange hot girls in bars.
Hotels.com is clearly made for guys like me- guys who need hotel rooms fast, at a moment's notice, because we are always having hot women flinging themselves at us wherever we go (I was going to say "when we least expect it," but we always expect it.) Guys who know that their apartments aren't as clean as they could be, and are just too classy to bring a strange hot girl whose name we just learned to a rumpled bed and a sink of dirty dishes. (To guys like us, nothing is too good for beautiful strangers we've just met in bars. That's why we are called gentlemen.) No way- girls I hook up with know they can expect only the best- Quality Inn, Best Western, Howard Johnson's- I know them all- as long as I can get a room, fast. And now I know I can.
And BTW, quick tip for you guys out there who have lives just like me, or wish you did- the only thing women appreciate more than a guy who is ready to follow up a chance meeting with an evening in a hotel room is a good continental breakfast. They especially love that make your own waffles deal. Who wouldn't?
Everyone uses it. Only women clean it.
Continuing a current theme at this blog...
Anytime anyone wants to hunt down and eliminate the chirpy ditz who provides the narration for this awful Celebration of Mommy's Ability and Willingness to Clean Toilets, I'd be happy to provide the bus fare.
Meanwhile, can someone tell me why we've never seen a man use paper towels, Lysol, Clorox or Bounce Fabric Softening Sheets in any television commercial ever made, ever? When will it be the 21st century on TV? Somewhere around 2250 perhaps?
I could have gone my whole life without seeing this ad, and I wouldn't have felt deprived of anything at all
Old man- you're incontinent. You use the toilet a lot. We get it. It's not funny.
Couch potato drunk- you're a drunk. You use the toilet a lot. We get it. It's not funny.
Pregnant woman- you're pregnant (again.) You use the toilet a lot.* We get it. You can stop touching your stomach now. You're pregnant. Again. WE GET IT.
Can Lysol make a bleach capable of removing this commercial from my brain now?
*She's relieved to hear the sound of the toilet flushing, because it means someone else is using the toilet and accidentally cleaning it at the same time. This tells me two things:
First, the other adult or perhaps older children (who knows how many this woman popped out, she seems to think that reproducing and cleaning the toilet is what she was put on Earth to do) don't clean the toilet beyond flushing it and activating the Lysol thingee. Why is that, stupid woman? Oh, right- because you are the woman of the house, which means the dirty jobs are your jobs.
Second, this is either one very small house, or one very loud toilet. I'm pretty sure I could not live in a place where I heard the toilet flush every time it flushed. I'd go insane. Come to think of it, I wonder how sane this depressingly fertile woman is.
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