Hyundai Humor= Total Fail

There is so much wrong here, but I'll just focus on two things that really stuck out:

First, how terrified is this kid of his dad that he can't just come out and tell him that he needs to use a bathroom?  At one point, they are at a car wash.  I bet that car wash has a restroom he could use- but this kid is so frightened of telling his dad that he needs to urinate that he'd rather sit in the back and sweat and squirm in building agony than say "hey dad, I need to relieve myself.  Can you take me to the bathroom please?"  I bet he's even more in terror of what will happen if he wets the seat.  Poor kid, that guy must be an absolute monster.

Second, the dad finally gets that his son needs to pee so he pulls over on the highway....and the kid exits on the side facing the road and runs around the rear of the car to head off into the woods.  Huh?  Why did he exit on that side?  Why isn't the dad going with him to make sure he's ok?  Jesus freaking Christ, buddy- first you frighten the kid into suffering in the back seat for god knows how long, then you let him exit where he could easily be killed by a speeding car, then you let him run off into the woods by himself to urinate...what the hell is the matter with you?

Oh, and let's never mind that all of this is played for laughs by Hyundai.  Never mind that unless you're a 14-year old boy I don't want to hear that you think that this is funny in the slightest.  Seriously, if you've reached adulthood and you think Kid In Agony Because He Needs To Urinate is totally LOL hilarious- or even slightly amusing- I don't want to hear it.  If you think it's funny enough to sustain an ad that runs for a full minute, well...I really don't want to hear it, and maybe your parents should thank you for posting on YouTube under a fake name.

Let me correct you, Verizon Fios Spokeschoad

What this person sitting at the gate waiting for her flight needs to "let her pals know" is that she's a totally self-absorbed douchenozzle who has never heard of these things called "earbuds" and who just assumes that everyone at the gate wants to listen to whatever she's watching on her f--ng phone.

Oh wait, she doesn't need to let them know that.  They know it already.  As does everyone else at the gate, including all the people who were trying to catch a little shuteye or maybe enjoy a book or something while waiting to board their flights.  They all know that one of the people also waiting for that flight is a selfish jackass who thinks that being able to carry her tv around through her phone makes everywhere she is her Living Room.  So enjoy the game, everyone at the gate.  You're going to hear it- and her response to every play, so you might as WELL enjoy it.

Hell, I strongly suspect you'll continue to "enjoy" it while the flight is in the air.  Basic human decency doesn't compute with this woman, why should airline rules?  I mean, there's a game on her phone!

Meanwhile, Verizon Spokeschoad?  I hope your plane crashes.  Into the Andes.  And you survive.  So you can be eaten by your fellow passengers.  Slowly.  Feet first. 

Humira, please fire your casting director!

(Sorry for the quality of the video, I'll swap it out when I find a better one.)

Isn't it adorable that this 14-year old girl* has finally brought her 25-year old boyfriend home to meet the folks?  "See daddy, this is the guy I have been talking to online all this time- I TOLD you you'd like him!"

(Oh and there's a few moments of tension where it appears she isn't sure he'll show up, because he's got this issue with having to go to the bathroom a lot and she forgot to tell him that her parents do, in fact, possess an operating toilet despite living in a dollhouse.)

In one scene, the little girl shows her boyfriend photos of last year's ballet recital before taking him for a walk to visit her Very Bestest Place on Earth, the tire swing daddy attached to the tree for her in the summer of 2014.  Later, daddy pulls boyfriend aside for some alone time to ask him about the size of his bank account to see if he's truly worthy of buying his daughter.  They also eat lunch in one of those weird No Escape If You're Not on the Aisle kitchen booths made for couples but incredibly awkward for more than two people.  Do these things really exist in real life?  But I digress...

It's all just so adorable, and apparently has something to do with some drug that does something.  Personally, I'd settle for a drug that makes me forget this commercial.  Oh wait, there already is one.  It's called bleach.

*I mean, just check out her bedroom.  WTF??

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.