This is your life, for as long as you can keep the wrinkles away....

This is your morning.  Get up while it's still dark and leave the guy you sold yourself to in bed.  Don't make too much noise, he has no reason get up.  But you sure do.

This is the house and lifestyle you sold yourself for.  It's not any port in a storm.  It's not even a palatial estate. It's a ridiculously pretentious mansion- but hey, you're cute, and you were never going to come cheap, were you?

This is your workout.  Get your butt on that bike as the sun begins to creep over the mountains and start sweating, honey.  Work those abs and sweat off that 1 percent body fat he may very well notice if you keep it around for another day.  Because this is the way any woman would want to start her morning, right?

This is the rest of your day.  Greet the kids you gave that guy.  Yes, you were cute and available, so you passed the first test.  The second test was being fertile.  The third was to keep being cute and tight.  Doesn't hurt if you have breakfast on the table on time every day, either.

This is your life. Keep quiet and fertile and toned, and you get to keep that house, Trophy Wife.  Maybe it's not a bad bargain for you.  I don't know your circumstances.  But when the sun isn't quite up tomorrow and you realize it's time to kill yourself trying to stay in your early-20s while your husband blissfully ages at a respectable pace and you really don't want to, just remember- babysitters come in Cute, and sometimes they are looking for any port in a storm, and that really is some house.  I bet that will be motivation enough.

Chevy's got a problem: Even the YouTube morons aren't buying this anymore

Look, just because the people gathered for the "focus group" are vapid, grinning idiots who are clearly so thrilled at the prospect of appearing on television that they really don't care what they are told to say or what stupid look they have to stick on their extremely punchable faces, it doesn't mean that we the viewers are going to be impressed with the "Real People, Not Actors" disclaimer.  Yeah, we KNOW they aren't actors. That's obvious.  We also know that they are Real People- real dumb, desperate-for-attention, totally corporate whore people.  With scripts.  That's very obvious.

And it couldn't be more obvious that these Real People Not Actors didn't actually buy for a minute that their cell phones were being thrown into a woodchipper- or, if they did, all knew damn well that this was all being done for a commercial (the cameras might have tipped them off) and would be rewarded with brand-new cell phone upgrades.

In fact, that brings up an interesting point- at the moment these tools saw their phones being grounded up, I bet they all thought that the ad was for the new Apple iPhone XII and for being such good sports, they were going to be handed complementary phones.  Instead, they were confused out of their admittedly limited minds by being told that their phones were actually safe but Hey Here's A Car We Aren't Giving You Thanks For Coming.  At which point, I wish they had just eaten this grinning jackass.

You "couldn't afford" that trip to Europe because you had to save up for a box?

Wow, it's more than a little depressing to be treated to a slide show of grinning idiots who seemed thrilled to death (no pun intended) that they've bought insurance so they can be absolutely sure that when grandma and grampa kick off they'll get the solid gold casket and ostentatious party they think they deserve.

Because sure, you could leave that "average" expense of Final Burial ($7500, or $8300, depending on which of these vulture-produced commercials you watch) to your loved ones and just sign up in advance with a hospital which will cremate you for free in exchange for any organs you are willing to donate, or just leave your entire body to science, but wow that gold box nobody will ever see again after the funeral sure looks awesome before they throw dirt on it, and after eighty years or so of toil you kind of had your heart set on a parade lead by a long black car followed by your family legally running red lights.

So to hell with the actual needs of those loved ones.  Sure, $7500 would make a great start to a grandkid's college fund, but what's that to you?  Long black car.  Gold box with velvet lining (because your corpse is really going to appreciate the softness, right?)  Don't leave these expenses to those loved ones (because if they have any brains, they'll skip all this showy crap for a private little get-together with sandwiches, liquor, a few tears, and a box of You sitting on a table.)  Get this insurance so your family can waste an entire day of their own fleeting lives engaged in a stupid medieval ceremony which just leaves them mildly irritated rather than financially stretched.

I'm not sure what "Presence" means, but apparently it can be bought, so I probably can't afford it anyway

I don't see any "people" in this ad, let alone people whose "presence" or "gravitas" is available to be judged by the viewer.  All I see is yet another commercial for an Audi LookAtMeI'mBetterThanYouMobile and all I hear is yet another Brit droning away at me about why owning a certain car (not just being able to afford one) simply makes you a more substantial person than someone who doesn't.

You see, owning this particular car gives you "presence."  Which makes sense, I suppose, if you plan to leave it parked ostentatiously in the driveway or beep the horn several times as you approach every parking space, so that the plebians will turn and see who gets out of it.  Because after all, if you aren't actually IN the car, how do us non-Audi-owning worms know who we are supposed to respect for their superior Gravitas and Presence?  And if we are just admiring the car for ITS presence, well, what good does that do the rich schmuck who dropped more than I make in a year on its purchase?  Should the owner drive around with his windows down so we can associate him with the awesomeness (and Gravitas) of his automobile?  Should he refrain from sucking down a Slurpee while driving, because I can definitely see that detracting from the effect.

Let's be honest about what these cars are- like mountain-sized pickup trucks and Humvees owned by suburbanites with no actual cargo larger than kids and groceries to haul, they are glaringly obvious compensation for insecure idiots with money burning holes in their pockets and no sense of social responsibility.  Who are impressed by British accents and the theory that they can instantly become more important and worthy of respect by driving a particular car- sure it's expensive, but actually doing something worthy of notice- let alone Gravitas and Presence- takes actual effort.

Um, it's a sales event. That was easy, Audi

Seriously, Audi, if you think that producing a car that can distract people away from the beach makes that car a "Force of Nature," you must also think that cell phones are a "Force of Nature."  Because every year I spent a week at the beach and see thousands of people ignoring beautiful sand and water (and their kids) in order to stare at their stupid phones.  In fact, I regularly see people trip and fall, or bump into each other, or nearly get hit by cars on the boardwalk, because they can't take their eyes off those phones.

So, sorry.  Being able to distract people doesn't make Audi a "Force of Nature."  It makes it what it already was- a ridiculously expensive toy for the One Percent to use to remind the other people on the road that there's a One Percent that can afford to buy Audis- and we aren't among them.

For the past five years, Daughter has fantasized about this thing getting totalled and replaced by an Audi

What are we looking at at the end of this nauseating spoonful of treacle called a Subaru ad?  Is it now 2032, and the family's new Subaru looks exactly like the old one, meaning the company has introduced absolutely no innovations in sixteen years?  Or is it 2016, and the daughter is being handed a 16-year old Subaru which has magically avoided even the hint of usage- no scratches, no dings- other filthy back seats which apparently NEVER got vacuumed, seeing as the father can pick junk from decades ago off the carpets?

And either way, how does the daughter age 16 years while scruffy hipster doofus dad doesn't age a single DAY?  The admakers couldn't even add a touch of grey to that mop he's wearing on his chin?  And that's another thing- if this is 16 years in the future, and full beards are going to be the style for men in 2032, I am not at all sure I want to live to see it.

This commercial would have had a better ending if it featured Daughter responding to the "gift" of the family Subaru with "um....thanks, dad.  No WiFi capability.  No Bluetooth.  No Sirius XM.  No GPS.  No built-in DVD.  Just an AM/FM radio and built-in cupholders for four.  Wow, I'm going to show really great in the HS parking lot with this ancient LameMobile."

Three successful, well-known icons of their trade....and Kevin Nealon?

1.  Didn't lightning used to kill people on golf courses?  Why doesn't that happen anymore?

2,  Did these guys all meet in a Facebook group--"Rich guys who like to play golf and who also take Xerelto?"

3.  Is anything in this ad believable at all?  I don't buy that these guys are friends, or that they enjoy babbling away about this drug they are taking.  And I sure as hell don't buy the idea that they think Kevin Nealon is at all funny, let alone hi-LARIOUS like they pretend to do here.

4.  I'm sure the waitress at the club is just thrilled with the antics of this group of overpaid morons.  What's a "Kevin Nealon?"  Given the arc of his career, I'm guessing it's a glass of flat Diet Coke.

5.  And again....one of these guys does not belong.  I'm pretty sure I know who isn't picking up the check.