Which of these ads is more offensive?*

If you were a kid watching the Orioles-Tigers game this afternoon, you were treated to both of these ads, sometimes back-to-back, at least half a dozen times over the course of just about three hours.

I'm no prude, but if I were a dad watching the game with my son, I'd be pretty irritated that I was being compelled to jump for the damn remote if I didn't want my kid being inundated with mental images of guys achieving (or failing to achieve) erections, their drug of choice being Viagra or a LookAtMeMobile.

This kind of crap makes me long for beer and Be A Man Drive A Truck commercials.  Ugh.

*As it turned out, neither of these ads was the most offensive part of TBS' presentation of the playoff game.  That honor goes to it's decision to go right to an episode of American Dad instead of the postgame press conference.  Way to keep it cheap, TBS.  Tools.

Yeah because your life looks so exhausting as it is. ...

I'm going to assume that the guy in this ad who is asking Google* something is at the zoo with his family; how depressing is it that he thinks it would be "the life" to sleep 18-22 hours a day?

I mean, seriously?  You'd actually want to do that?  Low T much?

*To get an answer from Google, do you really have to start by saying "Ok, Google?"  Does that activiate the search engine, or what?  I've said it before and I'll say it again- I really hate this century.

Oh good, 'cause I wasn't dying fast enough!

Not only did I not think that this qualified as "big news," I was actually kind of surprised that Pizza Hut hadn't already been stuffing bacon into the crust.  I mean, it seems a pretty obvious idea to me.

I also don't get why it's a big deal because we've always been able to get pizza with bacon as a topping.  Why is stuffing it into the crust an improvement- all it means is that it's harder to pick out once you remember that Oh My God This Is Poison I Don't Want To Eat This What Was I Thinking?

And I guess I'm supposed to know who the spokeschoad is- this Youtube posting has his name and everything.  But- I don't have a clue.  Oh well, I'll try to feel bad about it later.

(Oh, and I included the Taco Bell "I'm Ronald McDonald" Taco Bell Stuffed Greasy Crap in a Waffle Commercial just in case the first one didn't make you want to punch someone in the face, hard.  No need to thank me.)

I don't know what the little girl in this Sprint ad is complaining about

She looks to be about eight years old, maybe seven, maybe nine.  I don't know- but surely, she's old enough to know that there's no point in complaining when her parents don't use their phones to film her little recital thing because their data plan is reaching it's monthly limit.

I mean, she grew up with her parents owning cell phones.  Which means, her entire life has been spent watching her parents scrolling and texting and yakking away instead of paying attention to what she was doing.  When she took her first step, it went unnoticed because Mom was checking out text no. 146 for that day.  When she wanted her dad to watch her on the slide, she had to beg because dad was checking the football scores on his iPhone.  And she's probably seen countless near-accidents from the back seat of the SUV while the driver kept glancing at the phone instead of paying attention to traffic.   My guess is that until she was four or so she thought that people just grew phones on their hands and wondered how old she had to be before hers showed up.

In short, she's spent her entire young life with the phone as a rival for her parents' time and affection- and data minutes.  Everything she's done has been an effort to win out in the struggle for Quality Time with the phone.  I'm sure she's lost out a LOT of times before now- so why does she take not being recorded while dressed as a tree as anything but par for the course?

When I was growing up, phones were attached to cords inside the house.  In the house, sometimes my parents were interrupted by calls and I had to wait to ask for something or tell them something.  Outside was the land without phones- where my parents were my parents and they kind of had to pay attention to me because there were no IMs and no football scores and no Google to ask inane questions to- there was just me, and my siblings, and Mom, and Dad.  I can't help thinking that was better.

Oh, and when we did something like this recital?  Still shots taken on Polaroids (you may run out of film, but not Data Minutes.)  Movie cameras (same thing.)  When where they shared?  During family get-togethers.  Again, I can't help thinking that was better.

Back to this little girl: You actually do have one legitimate  complaint to make to your parents, you poor thing.  They had you too late.  If you had been born 20 years earlier, you wouldn't be in this nonstop competition with a little glowing box.  Sorry.

I think we all know what their Final Destination will be...

...I just hope they don't take too many of us innocent bystander/pedestrians with us before they get there.

Seriously, what's with the super-aggressive driving in the middle of a freaking CITY?  So if you own one of these Buicks, you can just do whatever the hell you want at whatever speed you want to do it, Everyone Else Be Damned?

(BTW, during my walk today I saw a guy make an illegal U-turn on a suburban street at about 20 MPH- while texting.  I'm sure he considered that "multitasking."  I consider that being a totally selfish, insufferable douchenozzle.  Guess whose side Buick is probably on?

Ugh, I was hoping I had heard this for the last time

As near as I can tell, the only reason this commercial exists is so that Geico can bring back a really crappy song by an incredibly overrated band that had it as a hit sixteen years ago because it refers to one headlight.  For a motorcyle insurance ad.  Get it? One headlight.  Get it?  And here's the gravy- the Wallflowers were so grateful that this stupid cloying song was going to get some unexpected screentime, they didn't even charge for it's usage.

Hell, they probably paid Geico to bleed our ears with it.

Cheerios presents: More corn than your average movie theater

Oh Christ just ask him which f---ing kind of Cheerios he wants to eat and end this crap already!

I'm not even a dad, and I figured it out, why can't you?

Oh yeah- because without the noxious levels of twee, we wouldn't have the Hallmark-channel level of f---ing adorable at the end.  Which would have been fine because jeesh, this is bad.  Hey, doofus dad?  Next time, just buy ONE type of Cheerios and put it on the freaking table.  "Problem" solved.