Stouffer's offers us a choice

Want to enforce a "no phones at the dinner table" rule in your house?  Well, you have two options:

1.  You can be actual parents who raise your kids to be something other than antisocial, technologically addled cell phone addicts who understand boundaries like "when you are at the dinner table, you don't answer or look at your cell phone, because....you're at the dinner table."  The great thing about this option is that it could actually result in your kids being well-balanced human beings who get priorities and realize that staring at/responding to their phones is not their Reason for Existing.

2.  You could serve your kids their Very Favoriteist Food at every meal, hoping they love it so much that not only will they eat it in slow motion and act like they've been transported to some blissful heaven with every bite, but they'll actually forget that their cell phone- which is going to be right on the table regardless- even exists. 

Your choice, "parents."  I'll just warn you, though- if you choose Option 2, and sit there in frozen horror when the cell phone buzzes wondering if that slop you served up is good enough to do what you are apparently incapable of doing- those quotation marks are going to stay around the word "parents."  Also, if your kids are this distracted by frozen trash lasagna they aren't just going to be ignoring that cell phone, but you as well- too bad if you thought that Family Dinner was going to mean Conversation.  And one more thing- in ten minutes, those kids are going to be done with their lasagna and back on those phones unless you grow a spine and move to Option 1. 

Dominos + Desperate Need for Attention= Garbage like this

Not much to add here, except that I really hope that fifteen minutes after filming each and every person who appears in this ad was deeply ashamed for having played a part in its creation.

I mean, my god- how desperate do you have to be be for ten seconds of "fame" to do any of this stuff?  It looks like we've got a couple interrupting their wedding to pose with a pizza.*  We've got another guy who apparently spent hours taking disgusting old pizza boxes and making a suit of armor and shield with them...seriously WTF?

It's disgusting bland pizza, people.  That's all.  Get over it.  And yourself.

*Prom, sorry.  That's almost worse.

A few pointers for this ugly Pepsi Commercial Dork

1.  It's perfectly fine with me if no one ever, ever lets you forget that you made a total ass of yourself for a few moments of TV "fame" in a Pepsi Commercial.  You asked for it, after all.

2.  In real life, you get to pull crap like this for exactly as long as it takes to be appreciated by the Jumbotron, and then by the crowd.  When you try to extend your moment beyond that by starting your pathetic begging for attention all over again, it's just super-cringey and the crowd stops rooting for you, and starts feeling sorry for you instead.

In other words....you aren't why we bought our tickets.  Sit the f--- down.  Shut the f--- up.  And for this guy in particular:  see a doctor about that massive growth between your mouth and your forehead before it applies for freaking Statehood.

Peloton hits a few racist buttons with this ad

1.  Props for finally featuring a black person in one of these ads.

2.  Props for finally showing a person who doesn't live in a ridiculous house or apartment in one of these ads.  Kind of odd, though, that you waited until you were ready to feature a black person before you decided to feature a less-than-ridiculous house/apartment.

3.  I agree with the YouTubers who overwhelmingly find this ad to be annoying and insulting.  The kid hears his dad singing along to the Peloton workout person all the way in the other room, which means he's being really loud about it (oh, and this is the first time we've seen one of these commercials where the person doing the exercising is singing- strike three, Peloton.  Seriously, what the hell are you trying to tell us about your view of black people here?)

4.  If you can sing while you're working out, you aren't working out hard enough, sorry.  I thought these spinning sessions were supposed to be grueling, exhausting, challenging, etc.  Not if you can sing during them, no.

Why does anyone care about this "fight?"

Four years ago, Colin McGregor was the "hottest thing" in that joke non-sport called MMA which features non-talented non-athletes kicking and punching each other in a cage.  Then he made a really, really dumb mistake that exposed MMA for the fraud it is and would have lead to its instant demise in any country not populated by white male Trump enthusiasts:  He challenged an actual boxer- an over-the hill, light-hitting but fast and talented boxer- to a fight.

The result was almost laughably predictable- so predictable, in fact, that even mouth-breathing MMA fans just assumed it would come off exactly as it did.  Floyd Mayweather Jr, who couldn't punch his way out of a wet paper bag in his prime, fighting for the first time in two years, dominated McGregor and stopped him in the ninth round of what was much more of a Show than a legitimate sporting event.

So any question as to the seriousness of MMA as a sport and its participants as athletes was answered, then and there- no, it's not and no, they are not.  The very best MMA fighter was beaten silly by an elderly, rusty boxer and even KNOCKED OUT by a guy who can't knock out anyone in his own sport.  Case closed.  Fraud exposed. 

Did MMA fold?  Nope.  Heck, even McGREGOR's career escaped unscathed.  He's several years older, sports a record (21-4) which is pedestrian in boxing but worthy of a "superstar" in the MMA, and is about to step into the ring with someone called "Cowboy" whose own trial-horse record of 36-13 is apparently also good enough to rake in big bucks on PPV.

Well, hope you enjoy the spectacle, you idiots. Just don't call it a sport.  That was settled years ago.  You didn't care to notice, I guess because you've got $50 burning a hole in your pocket and absolutely no taste between your ears.  Must be nice.  Just stop voting, ok?

Invented too late to save Howard Hughes...

In short, as long as you are forced to live IN A WORLD where every single other person on Earth is a clueless, thoughtless, disgusting, germ-infested rodent/sub-species of homo sapiens, you will need this product to save you from all those other barely-people who are determined to kill you with their loathsome, germ-spreading behavior.

I could not watch more than a few seconds of this nonsense- I didn't even get to the name of the item being sold- but I'm sure whatever it is, using it involves letting everyone around you know that you are a germaphobe/sociopath who feels entitled to live in a plastic bubble and finds having to be in proximity with Others not only incredibly distasteful, but downright Dangerous.  And since the thoughtless, disease-spreading airlines won't accommodate you with your own pre-sterilized cabin, this is what you are going to have to do to "protect" yourself from Ebola, the Bubonic Plague, and all the other nasty diseases People are trying to kill you with.

Or, you know, you could just stay home and watch the Big Scary World of Invisible Death from your window.  Believe me, you will NOT be missed. 

With McDonald's just around the corner, you never have to go anywhere else

From the people who brought us Shamrock Shakes and McLobster Sandwiches comes a new atrocity which encourages Americans to never really move away from their dietary comfort zone:  the "Southern" spicy bacon cheddar onion Faux Exotic Somethingburger (I'm not watching this again to get the actual name of this Stack of Bland Crap on Bread- I'll probably see it in the description once it posts.  That's how many f--ks I have to give.)

Why would anyone travel when you can get country-fried steak at the Cracker Barrel, Authentic Italian Cuisine at the Olive Garden, seafood like your Parents Never Ate at Red Lobster, and Pizza Just Like Back in the Old Country at Dominos (oh my god, I just commit heresy like four times in one sentence?)

So save your money and the hassle of travel.  All the awesome Home Cookin' is right down the street being served up by the nearest of several thousand carbon copy franchises.  And you didn't even need a passport!