"Um....the thing is, I'm kind of not interested in thoughtless idiots with moron friends, sorry."

1.  The guy in this ad has a lot more guts than I could ever hope to have, if he's calling the day after a date using a tablet.  The Next Day phone call is hard enough- to do it with actual, visual contact?  Pretty damned impressive.

2.  This woman is an absolute idiot to want to take this call in front of her friends.  She has no idea what this guy is going to say, first of all.  Second, is she going to let the guy know that their conversation is not private, but is being shared with her idiot friends?

3.  This guy gets a great red flag at the end, finding out exactly what kind of friends last night's date has.  Run away, buddy, run away.

Almost makes going to church seem like a good idea

How does any of this brain-dead crap contribute to society?  Between Chris "I comment on baseball for two weeks out of the year because World Series" Berman's Done To Death By The End of the 90s irritating noises schtick to Jim Crow-level shucking and jiving, this commerical just left me depressed, with a slight headache, and more determined than ever to just leave my television off until 1 PM Sundays at the very earliest.

(In fact, I am beginning to discover the joys of listening to the one game broadcast over XM/Sirius on my old non-NFL XM package as I walk.  Exercise, fresh air, and no Chris Berman or badly-disguised racism in sight.  Perfect.)

SimpliParanoid

"Your connection to emergency services can't be cut because SimpliSafe doesn't rely on landlines."

Seriously?  I thought burglars just waited for you to leave the house before breaking a window and stealing your stuff.  I didn't know that they were elite squads of terrorists who did things like cut landlines before invading and holding your family hostage.  And what good does cutting landlines do anyway in the age of cellphones?  What am I missing here?

Isn't this all about striking terror into the hearts of freakishly skittish suburban white jackasses who can't believe they own big houses, know damn well they don't deserve them, and live in a constant state of guilt that Those Other People are going to hit back hard some night in the perhaps not-to-distant future?  I mean, if you find yourself investing in a home security system that is immune to having your landline cut, you are one step away from investing in a Safe Room and Glenn Beck Collapse of Society Survival Kits.  My guess is that you've probably watched too many Die Hard movies and ought to just invite Stephen Seagal to sleep on your couch.

"In this same universe, at a time which now seems far, far away..." Walmart gets Star Wars wrong

"You see, there were these knights called Jedi.  All they needed to be Jedi was to dedicate themselves to protecting the Republic and undergo serious training at the hands of Jedi Masters.  Those Jedi Masters had a habit of insisting that the potential trainee was 'too old to begin the training' no matter how old they were, but were also proven wrong on every occassion...

"This for example allowed a simple farmboy with a lust for adventure and a yearning to find purpose in his life to become a Jedi very late in life (in his early-20s) after meeting a self-exiled Jedi Master in the desert, rescuing a princess, and completing that training with the help of another self-exiled Jedi Master, finally confronting his dark side in a climax featuring a battle with his fallen father.  In the meantime two Death Stars are destroyed, friendships are forged, and the Empire is brought down by the forces of Good."

"Afterwards, there are three horrible films you need not ever watch, and are by no means recommended unless you want what I just taught you to be totally and horribly retconned.  For example, you'd learn that determination and pluck and devotion have nothing to do with becoming a Jedi after all-- it really just depends on how many 'Miticlorions" you have in your blood.  If you don't have enough, sorry- doesn't matter how pure and big your heart is, or how sincere your determination is, you are out of the club because you don't have the right blood type.   You would also learn that in the age before the original Star Wars films technology was BETTER than it would be later, people moved and acted in a bizarre wooden manner, Jedi didn't do anything more strenuous than sitting around in semicircles pondering their own awesomeness until it was way too late to do anything else, children were called 'younglings' and R2D2 could fly (never mind that that skill would have come in handy several times during the first three movies.)"

"And never forget this important lesson, my child:  R2D2 and C3P0 do not have an 'origin story,' because machines don't need origin stories, Han Solo fired first (just as you can see on my original VHS tape, don't watch the DVD version because it's non-canonical,) and there is no such thing as a Jar Jar Binks."

Little Caesar's knows it's audience

No, not Crazy Cat People- though anyone who would own this many cats certainly is crazy, and I can't imagine having an appetite ever if I had to live with all those cats.  I don't want to live with even ONE cat.   Ugh, turns my stomach to think about it.

By "knows it's audience," I mean knows that people who are dumb enough to spend good money on the cheap, mass-produced crud that makes up a Little Caesar's pizza are the same people who think that ordering a pizza online, "with those confusing passwords and stored credit card numbers," is too complicated to handle on a regular basis.  It's almost frightening to think where we are going as a society when ordering a pizza online- which was sold to us as pretty damned close to miraculously wonderful about fifteen minutes ago- is now described as "too complicated."

Meanwhile....I wonder how many kitty litter boxes this guy has?  Never mind- again, I don't even want to think about it.

Here's a Michelob ULTRA POINTLESS commercial I wouldn't mind dropping into the stump grinder....

"We have really stupid names for our really stupid clubs.  One of those names is actually kind of insulting- 'Freedom Hikers,' which sounds a lot like 'Freedom Riders,' except the 'Freedom Riders' were young people who rode throughout the segregated, viciously racist South risking their lives to stand up for the oppressed black population of the region and help them register to vote, while we just stumble around the woods for a few hours, whooping now and then for absolutely no reason, and then salute our Obvious Epicness with  heavy glass bottles of beer we dragged into the wilderness because hey, we're really cool but that doesnt' mean we're bright."

"Whatever we call ourselves, what we are is a group of Pretty White People looking for something to do before we start drinking really crappy, watered down swill we laughingly refer to as beer as we toast ourselves for being Pretty White People who are, by the way, really awesome because we like to have fun."

(Editor's Note: "What really brought us together...is what keeps us coming back."  Yep, I get it- each of these groups is made up of a bunch of young alcoholics who decided that they really ought to be doing something more with their lives than getting drunk in front of  a giant screen at Buffalo Wild Wings every Sunday afternoon.  So they decided to wedge in some non-drinking activity like hiking or running or swimming that would consume a few hours and allow them to pretend that the drinking part was just the wrap-up of a nice day and not the actual goal.  That final line kind of kills this idea, though- the narrator tells us straight out that the reason these people continue to engage in hiking, swimming, running, etc. is because of the promised beer at the end of the day.  Kind of sad- but at least they get outside for a while.  And none of these activities are going to be practical once the weather cools down; coincidentally, that also signals football season, and Buffalo Wild Wings awaits....)

Hey, it's that song you gagged on back in the 70s. With a Nissan!

As near as I can tell through one viewing of this gigantic smarmy steaming pile of manipulative tripe, Dad is a NASCAR driver who got married, had a son, and then went on a 17-year race circuit in which he never, ever came home not even once and his only contact with his son was some kind of failed mind meld which could only be attempted because his abandoned wife inexplicably allowed the kid to watch Daddy Almost Get Killed For the Entertainment of Screaming Rubes live every Saturday afternoon.

Oh, and one day dad showed up in a Nissan outside his kid's school, and his kid got into the car because he recognized dad from television.

That's all there is, right?