Go back home, E.T. Nothing to see here anymore.

So E.T. visited Earth 37 years ago and wandered into the backyard of a little boy living in suburban Los Angeles with his two siblings and divorced mom.  Over the next several days E.T. hid from the mom, had a tea party with the little girl, watched a little tv, got drunk, and built a device to signal his friends in outer space using a Speak and Spell, a coat hanger, and an umbrella.  Then he died, was Born Again in Fulfillment of the Script, rode a bicycle into the sky and eventually ascended into the stars while inspirational music and tears flowed.

Thirty-seven years later, E.T. returns to Earth to see what Elliot is up to.  Elliot's got kids of his own, this is going to be fun and cool again!  Except....what do Elliot's kids do with E.T.? They introduce him to YouTube.  They give him virtual reality goggles.  They feed him cake- probably the only part of this visit that seems at all like an old friend returning from a long absence in this entire four-minute plus nostalgia glurge.

Then E.T. goes back home, probably for good this time, because even though he managed to avoid actually dying during this trip, I don't think he's leaving with the warm fuzzies for Elliot's kids and their obsession with tech.  More likely he'll report to his superiors that Earth kids are nowhere near as interesting and fun as they were back in the 1980s, when that one kid who always wore headphones and was never off his bicycle represented "out of touch because of electronics."

Ridiculous Walgreens Christmas Ad

So this young couple who I have to assume has a kid somewhere in the house (do young childless couples put cookies out for Santa?) gulp down the cookies and milk only to realize that Santa Claus is real and has landed on a neighbor's roof.  Their IMMEDIATE concern is that they've eaten "his" milk and cookies.  Not that their reality has been torn into pieces by the sudden appearance of a logic-bending piece of mythology.  But that a demi-god has appeared in physical form, and it allegedly expects cookies and milk.

And their response to discovering that the Western World's most popular Lie that doesn't involve a carpenter and a plus-sign-shaped piece of wood is not a lie at all is to make a mad dash to Walgreen's to pick up a cheap tin of crappy mass-produced cookies (Cripes, even the local 7-11 would have been a better choice for sweets.)  Fortunately for them, Santa's ability to visit more than a billion homes in a single night doesn't negate the fact that it takes him 20 minutes to cross a street.  Something doesn't add up here, but why should this stupid ad start making sense now?

Anyway, the young couple- which besides almost killing several innocent people by recklessly driving at breakneck speed on icy roads to Walgreens in the unrealistic (but, it turns out, completely appropriate) expectation that they could get into that car, drive to Walgreens, get a box of cookies, drive back, and put them out in less time than it takes a magic fairy that will land on several hundred million rooftops over course of eight hours to attend to two houses (yes, I am rather fixated on this massive plot hole) - puts out the cookies and watches as Santa consumes them.  This is all supposed to be very lighthearted and sweet and whatever, but it just comes off as bizarre and stupid to nasty cynics like me.  You know, Sane People.

Kay Jewelers endorses the concept of ThoughtCrime

So the guy in this ad is clearly having a crappy day, getting burned out on the whole husband/father thing, feeling overwhelmed by not getting a moment's peace from his noisy, needy family.  He can't even eat a piece of toast and drink his morning coffee without having his personal space invaded by the insatiable demands of these people who live in his house and share his last name.

All he really wants is a few seconds to himself to reflect and recharge- but instead, he's assaulted from behind by his wife, who forces him to look at the Wall of Reminders that his life is NOT his own- he's got a wife, he's got kids, he's got responsibilities.  So stop moping, buddy- you aren't entitled to mope.  You aren't entitled to one freaking eye blink of solitude, because your wife sees you having quiet time as a threat to her existence as the freaking Center of Your Universe.  Besides, she assumes that you aren't just trying to gather yourself, but instead are contemplating how much easier- and fun- your life was before you Bought In and Sold Out.  And how long it's been since you've been out with any of your male friends to the sports bar or to play cards.  Or how cute and nice and almost-worshipful that last babysitter was.

Here's what has to happen now, at least as far as your wife is concerned:  You have to Make Amends for the wandering thoughts you dared to have without so much as a By Your Leave from your significant other.  Go out and get a mid-range piece of jewelry as a way of asking forgiveness for acting like a sovereign Human Being who actually owns the space between his ears.  And don't you ever show even the hint of fatigue, frustration, or bewilderment again or it's right back to Kay for you.

The Holidays are all about good food, good friends, and talking tax refunds

1.  Who the hell has a conversation about their tax return- let alone the AMOUNT of their tax refund- during a holiday dinner get-together?

2.  It gets even more cringy as the guests begin to push one of their own to tell them exactly how much he got - $3,000?  $4,000?- and he responds not with a very well-earned "this is really none of anyone's business and I seriously can't believe we are having this conversation" but with a grin and a "mmm hmmm" that suddenly makes me wonder if someone slipped something into his drink.  I mean, seriously, he sounds like he's falling asleep if not simply drowning in his own self-satisfied smarm.

3. "That's more than you got!"  Um, excuse me?  Do all the people at this table work in the same office, at the same salary?  Do they have the same number of dependents and did they make the same decisions over the course of the year?  I mean, two people making $50,000 each sitting at cubicles across from each other could have wildly different tax refunds due to a hundred different factors.  This is especially stupid even in what is already a very, very stupid commercial.

4.  "But I bet it took weeks (to get that refund,) right?"  This makes no sense.  The IRS does not mail out refunds based on amount being dispersed.  Is this guy suggesting that for such a big refund, his smarmy stoned friend must have hired a shady tax wizard who uses so many little-known tricks that the IRS goes through it with a fine-tooth comb before cutting the check?

5.  "Actually, I got it the same day" replies our favorite weird, semi-conscious lump of smarm (seriously, what is wrong with this guy?  Did he collapse into a coma five seconds after the commercial ended?)  And now we get the punchline- Mr. Valium used a "Rapid Refund" service to get his money- in other words, he surrendered a significant percentage of that refund in order to get his hands on the money a little faster.  Which makes me wonder about his finances, and convinces me that no one at that table should admire him.

Oh, one more thing  If you get a big tax refund every year, you are doing the whole payroll thing wrong.  You are giving the United States an interest-free loan with every paycheck.  A big tax refund is nothing to brag about; it's an admission that you haven't gotten your act together when it comes to properly managing deductions.  Do better in 2020, people.  And stop talking about tax refunds at the dinner table.  To borrow a phrase from the 19th century, it's downright Uncouth.

Range Rover, Mikaela Shiffrin, and a big middle finger to the rest of us

I guess that when you are a World Champion Skier you can't let things like road conditions- and nature- get in your way now, can you?  And if you aren't going to pay attention to road conditions, nature, property rights, etc., well, who the hell are police to tell you where you can and cannot go in your Range Rover?

The IMPORTANT thing is that Mikaela Shiffrin get to the top of that mountain so that she can ski some more.  Heck, it's not even the most important thing- it's the ONLY thing. 

Here's my question, though- she parks her Range Rover at the top of a mountain that she was only able to reach because she was equipped with a Range Rover and an overbearing sense of Entitlement.  Now she's going to ski down that mountain.  How does she plan to get back to her Range Rover when she reaches the bottom?

WeFixMoney Presents: The worst use of GoAnimate I've ever seen

For three years, GoAnimate For Schools was one of my favorite hobbies.  Every other week or so, I'd devote two or three hours to making a 3 or 4 minute video which I would then share with my class and on Facebook, just for fun.  Then GoAnimate changed it's name to Vyond, got super greedy, and got rid of GoAnimate For Schools and it's awesome $79-per-year subscription, replacing it with a virtually identical service with a $299 per year price tag.  Oh well, it was a fun hobby while it lasted- but I don't have $299 burning a hole in MY pocket.

Here's an awful use of the old GoAnimate software:  A GetPoorQuick instant loan "service" which promises to "match you up" with any number of stratosphere-high-interest cash advances to pay for car repairs, mortgage, whatever when your credit is in the toilet and you have no friends or family to lean on in a pinch.  Need $500?  $1000?  More?  No matter- the nice people at WeFixMoney will get that cash into your account quick, and all it will cost you is a monthly payment including interest rates approaching 2000%.  But don't worry about that- just make the minimum required monthly payment.   Forever.

How could such cutesy, friendly-looking GoAnimate characters steer you wrong?  Well, the ones I put into motion never did, and never could.  These, however, are setting up a trap for the Stupid and Desperate.  If GoAnimate was still affordable, I'd love to create an animated response to garbage like this.  Instead, I'll have to reply from my $10-per-year blog.  Better than nothing, I guess.

Not much to say about this Wayfair Ad....

...except that the little girl this guy married is truly insane.  I mean, just look at how she acted as the UPS guy kept showing up with crap from Wayfair, delivering packages by the freaking metric ton.  She looks like she's experiencing an LSD trip as she opens boxes, dancing around the tree and literally draping decorations around her neck.  What. The Actual. F--k.  Is wrong with this woman?

Whatever it is, it's apparently just fine with her husband.  Either that, he's in for a serious shock when the VISA bill arrives in January.  But I'm guessing he intentionally married a stunted child who looked fertile and just accepts the shopaholic behavior as just part of the package.  To each his own, buddy.