Liberty Mutual customer asks: "How DARE car insurance companies hold me responsible?"

I'll give this to Liberty Mutual:  The woman in this ad is probably a very good representative of people who are at fault in auto accidents.  I mean, just listen to what she says here:

"You barely clip a passing car- minor accident, no big deal!"  Well, that's exactly what I would expect you to say.  It's "no big deal" because after all, it was your fault.  And of course the other driver- the one whose car you HIT- is going to be uber-unreasonable by actually stopping and demanding that you exchange insurance information, can you believe it?

"Minor accident, right? Wrong! Your Insurance Company is going to raise your rate because the other car got a scratch so small you could fix it with a pen!"  Again, this is exactly what I'd expect the driver AT FAULT to say- "it was NOTHING!  The other car was BARELY damaged- just a SCRATCH you could fix with a PEN!"  I'm sure this woman would have exactly the same attitude if it was her car that had been damaged, and would have been more than willing to let the other driver attempt to fix the "scratch" with a pen.  I'm absolutely positive that would have been the case.

"But NO!  Your insurance company is going to raise your rates!"  Sorry to keep interrupting you, stupid clueless bent-out-of-shape-because-you-are-being-held-responsible woman, but....if the other car only had a "scratch," why didn't you just offer to fix it out of your own pocket?  Funny thing about car insurance- the rates don't go up if you don't use it.  If your negligence resulted in a minor accident, you should have just paid for it yourself.  That you used your car insurance suggests to me that just maybe that "little scratch" was a bit bigger than you are telling us it was.

Based on the comments, I'm not the only person who would like to tell this woman exactly what she can do with that pen (and it has nothing to do with switching car insurance companies.)

Two quick points about this Heineken Commercial

1.  What country is it taking place in?  Because, sorry, when we got to the reveal that these people were watching a SOCCER GAME, the first thought that popped into my head was "ok, this is happening in some foreign country."  It sure as hell isn't taking place in the United States.

2.  When I found this ad on YouTube I thought "wow, finally- an ad immune to the ubiquitious 'what is this song?' post."  I was wrong.  I scrolled down ten posts and found TWO people who did not know the name of the song, let alone the artist.  And I was probably a little too nasty in my replies, but for chrissakes, people.  I'm now convinced that YouTube employs some kind of bot that just automatically asks for the names of songs heard in commercials because....there's simply NO WAY actual humans did not know the name of this song.  No way.

McDonald's can't even get its celebration of a decent program right

1.  At first, I thought that the manager in this ad is being quite the jackass because he doesn't know if it's a letter of acceptance or rejection before he reads it- uninvited- in front of the entire staff. What if it had been a rejection letter?  Anyone who has ever applied to college knows to dread the thin reply letter.  The rejection letters are always thin.  The acceptance letters are thick because they include school calenders and further information about the school.

But then I noted that the envelope seems to be already opened when the kid hands it to the manager.  So the kid knows it's an acceptance letter, I guess.  But this leads me to my next point:

2.  Once he knew he was accepted, why didn't the kid just go down to McDonald's and tell the manager?  Why bring the letter with him....UNLESS he WANTED the manager to read it in front of everyone?  If the kid wanted everyone to know, why not just tell everyone himself- you know, like a normal person would?   Which leads me to my last point-

3.  What if it WAS a rejection letter, the kid had opened it and KNEW it was a rejection letter, and he went down to McDonald's to ask for some advice on how to proceed next- and to let the manager know that, in spite of all his hopes and dreams, he was going to need some hours this autumn after all?  If that were the case, man did the manager screw up big time by turning a personal moment into a cringe-worthy faux pas.  Great job, Stupid McDonald's Manager.

Ancestry.com: Yes, I know who I really am, and the answer is "better than this."

"Do you know who you really are?"

Well, I could be super-philosophical here and reply that life is just a journey we all take to discover who we really are- and the answer is the combined thoughts, feelings, and experiences of each individual lifetime.  The sum of our lives arrives at the very end, when we add up all those thoughts, feelings, and experiences.  It's left to others to evaluate who we were and what our lives really meant.  Ok?

Oh, I guess not Ok.  Because all of these obsessive "Who Am I" celebrations of DNA-tracking and navel-gazing want us to focus not on who we are, but on who our ancestors were.  What does this have to do with who we are?  Oh, you see, you are who they were.  Which means- you aren't really anyone.  Just the product of people who came before.  THEY were someone.  Yay them.

So we have these teary-eyed jackasses with way too much time on their hands and money burning holes in their pockets discovering that they share DNA with people they didn't think they liked- one guy habors prejudice against Germans, then discovers that he's part German, so wow there's an eye-opener now he has to go out and find some other group to hate (maybe My Heritage DNA or Ancestry.com can help him with that.  I'm sure they can.)

And at the end of all this unbelievably sad self-absorption the idea that we are what we do is totally lost to the much easier (it only takes a vial of spit and a credit card) theory that we're just a bag of chemicals handed off to us by our ancestors.  And now that we know exactly what percentage Lithuanian we are, we can sit down, have a wistful, satisfied little cry over it, and find something on television to distract ourselves from the notion that we still haven't added one thing to our own legacies because we've been too busy trying to reduce the meaning of our lives down to the cellular level. 

My Heritage DNA celebrates Racism by pretending to oppose it

"I don't know about you, but when I'm filling out forms, I never know which race to check."

I leave it blank.  I mean, it's not even required to get a passport these days. 

"People tell me it's obvious- you're black."  The "people" who are saying this to you are probably just sick to death or your stupid obsession with race and don't want to hear about mystified you are by the question anymore. 

"Well, I just my Heritage DNA results back" (proving my point that you're obsessed with race- you just NEEDED to know what "race" you "belong" to, even though you could have just left that part on every form blank, because you've decided that your "race" defines who you are.  Not sure why this is anyone's problem but yours, but...)

"And it shows me that actually, I'm 72% West African, 14% British, 7% West European, 3% East European and 3% Finnish..." I thought we were talking about race.  I'm not aware that any of those categories is a race.  Are you telling me that you think that "British" is a race?

"Now you tell me, which race box do I pick?"  I told you already what I do- I leave it blank. 

"And if I pick that one, do the others get dismissed?"  See, I didn't fall into your stupid trap.  I didn't suggest you pick one.  I suggested you leave it blank. 

"See, who we are is more complex than the one that society gave us..." So society gave you a label?  Then why are you struggling with this?  Oh right, because you like to complain about stuff that doesn't mean anything to people who aren't completely self-obsessed douchenozzles.

This guy then goes into a rant about how we must never judge a book by it's cover or people by the color of their skin which I guess is a good point but doesn't go very far in selling this Heritage DNA product because after all if where our ancestors come from doesn't matter, if we should be judged by who we are as indivuals, why the f--k do I give a damn what percentage Norwegian I am? 

The last twenty seconds of this ad is just this guy preaching about interconnectivity and each individual being a beautiful tapestry of colors etc. etc. etc., and it's nice but also banal and nothing we haven't heard a million times before from better speakers who weren't shilling for a company that WANTS you to be obsessive about your bloodline.  This guy's pitch is just about the most shameless hypocricy I've seen on tv- Stop focusing on race, go out and find how much of each race is in you by sending us a vial of spit.  We'll settle your identity "problem" by telling you straight out how black, white, Romanian, Jewish, Protestant, Zorastrian, Brazilian and Transalpine Gaul you are because those are all races and you need to know so you won't be pigeonholed by some form that isn't actually requiring you to make a choice.

My original suggestion- leave the damn box blank- works just as well, but only if you aren't a race-obsessed idiot who thinks that DNA is Destiny.  This guy doesn't qualify, which is why he responds to an optional question on a form by going on a quest to find Who He Is based on where people related to him used to live. 

"Washington DC Metro" and "Hacks:" the jokes write themselves

What I don't need to know:  "This is a Series 7000 train."  I don't know why you think that matters to me.  I don't care.  And if, for some reason, I needed to know this, it was covered at the last stop.  I don't know why you feel the need to tell me at every. freaking. stop.

I don't even know what a Series 7000 train is or why it's different from whatever series another train is.  Seriously, is there going to be a quiz?  Why do you keep telling me this?

What I do need to know:  Why the six elevators at Forest Glen station are always on the same floor at the same time.  So when I'm on the Metro level all six are apparently on the exit level.  So I'm standing there waiting for an elevator and when one comes, they all do.  Who thinks this makes sense?

And speaking of the elevators, why are the doors timed to stop closing the MOMENT the last person gets off and BEFORE anyone can get on?  I've figured out that if I am more than ten feet from an elevator that is discharging passengers there is zero reason to walk faster to catch that elevator before the doors close, because sorry, not going to make it.  I MUST wait for the next elevator which will come, eventually, along with all the others, at the same time.  Bizarre.

What I don't need to know:  "The Escalator at Dunn Loring is out of order."  I don't need to know this while I'm waiting for the train at Takoma.  It's not even the same freaking line.  Why does Metro insist on letting everyone on every train platform know every little thing that's going on anywhere in the system?

What I don't need to know:  That the train is delayed.

What I do need to know:  When the next train is coming.

What I don't need to know:  That because certain Metro stations will be closed next week in the Rentless Drive to get Back2Good, I should "consider alternative travel arrangements."

What I do need to know:  How often buses will be running between the Metro stations.  Because like a lot of people who use Metro I don't have an "alternative."

What I don't need from Metro:  Enhanced WiFi and commercials for the Back2Good metro system playing on the (Series 7000?) metro cars.

What I do need from Metro:  For you jokers to get "Back2Good" (how about something approaching reliable service?) no less than five years behind schedule.  Is that too much to ask?

NFL Sunday Ticket to Nowhere

Two kids in the suburbs are doing that retro suburban thing, selling lemonade.  They've got the adorable handmade sign and the pitcher of lemonade and they are ready to spend some quality time with eachother, outside, on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

Nope.  That's not going to happen.  Because Mom, who was still in bed from an evening of heavy drinking after yet another disasterous Match.com hookup, has finally risen, showered, and noticed that it's 12:30* and the pregame show for the Raiders/Cowboys is seconds away from starting.

Mom's super-lonely and can't bear the thought of watching a game by herself while her kids are outside doing non-football stuff, so she runs out and sells their entire lemonade supply to their first customer, pouring it into some weird novelty plastic cup that came out of nowhere to provide the punchline for the commercial (seriously, what the heck is that?  It's even too big to be available at 7-11 for $1.49.)

And then we see Mom and the two kids having a great time cheering on either the Raiders or the Cowboys from the couch.  Yeah, this is MUCH better than being outside on a beautiful day- but still not as good as watching the game at Hooter's, where you can get a basket of buffalo wings and don't have to settle for popcorn.

*Assuming that these people are rooting for the local team, this suburb is in either the Oakland or Dallas metro areas.  Either way, 12:30 local time works for the pregame show of a game starting at 4:05 EST.  It could be a three or four PM local time start, too, but that would mean mom was so blasted from the night before that she didn't get up until mid-afternoon, and those kids have been outside all day without selling any lemonade.  I don't know, I can't figure out anything that's not on the Eastern Seaboard.

Good luck next Saturday night, Mom.