Wow, this guy is sooooo rugged and awesome and cool, with his five-day's growth and faraway look in his eye and guts to Go The Extra Mile in his, um.....Mercedes Benz Van. I didn't even know Mercedes Benz made a van, but I guess it's the vehicle you just have to drive if you want to Go Further along that extra mile. After all, if want to bring Manly Tool Boxes to your out of the way Second Home in the Country where you do Outdoorsy stuff, or you want to go off fishing, you're gonna need instant Bluetooth Connectivity along for the ride, right?
And check out the look this guy gives us at the end of this ad. Thanks for being so punchable, jackass.
Or "When I don't feel like watching tv but do feel like because it's Saturday I really ought to do a post, go to an old As Seen on TV commercial." Hey, this site isn't monetized, so if this kind of cheap cop-out annoys you, that's just too bad.
Know another way you can avoid all these insane- and sometimes damaging (that's a LAPTOP right next to that cup! I've watched enough tv to know that if there's ever a large container filled with liquid next to a laptop, that laptop is DOOMED!) spills? Just don't have any kids. Not only do you avoid 99 percent of all the spills that happen in an average person's life, but you also avoid college funds for people who aren't you, vaccines for people who aren't you, clothes, shoes and food for people who aren't you...and you end up a multimillionaire before you're forty years of age. And you still have all your hair.
And guess what happens if you do have kids and you do get them these Wow cups? Here's your answer- the kids will do everything possible to spill liquids out of those Wow cups. Just take a look at what these little monsters are doing with their cups- they are drinking from them while hanging upside down on beds. They are knocking them off of kitchen counters. THEY ARE USING THEM NEXT TO LAPTOPS!
(I have to admit, I do like when the little girl drops her cup and throws her arms down in frustration, like she's thinking "I am SO SICK OF BEING A KID AND HAVING TO DEAL WITH GRAVITY!" She's awesome.)
Ok, whatever. If you insist on having kids, you'd better childproof that once-quiet, once-clean house that used to be your quiet sanctuary from the kid-filled world with latches for your cabinets filled with delicious poisons, little plugs for the electrical sockets you forgot you had until you bought into the Must Have Kids meme, and Wow cups. But I'll remind you that if you don't have kids, you can skip the Wow cups and all the rest and sleep stress-free on a mountain of cash, like I do, every single night. Choose Wisely.
1. The customer in this commercial has clearly suffered a stroke, or is in the process of suffering an epileptic fit, because there's simply no other excuse for forgetting you are in a auto/motorcycle shop and believing that you have been transported to the open road where you are singing a stupid late-60s song (for which there is also simply no excuse.)
2. The response of the employees is to cover for the customer's awkwardness by joining in with the song. Which tells me that this is a regular customer who dumps huge amounts of money at this particular shop, because seriously...why else would these people be so quick to bleat a really dumb song like sheep so that their one customer feels less awkward?
3. None of this has anything to do with insurance. Which means- yeah, it's a Geico ad. When was the last time a Geico ad had anything to do with insurance?
I imagined myself in a new Toyota once. The image didn't hold my interest for more than a few seconds. Probably because....I was imagining myself in a Toyota.
And I don't know why this commercial changes subjects and begins to talk about the "car of my dreams" later on. Wait- does Jan say "the Toyota of my dreams?" Um, I'm pretty sure there's no such thing. If there's a "Toyota of my dreams," there's also a "peanut butter sandwich of my dreams" and a "skim milk of my dreams" and a "ball point pen of my dreams."
I mean, come on. If there's a Toyota of your dreams, you traded your dreams a long time ago for the bland comfort of Lowered Expectations. It's nice that your dreams are so reachable, I guess. I sometimes really enjoy a good peanut butter sandwich, too.
Like this guy, I've spent a good chunk of the last year working from home. That's where the similarity between my life and this guy's comes to a rather abrupt end.
Unlike this guy, I don't work from a massive, glistening kitchen while my adoring wife and children play nearby. My workspace looks a bit more like a walk-in closet. I can compare my apartment to this guy's kitchen in one respect- my apartment is about the same size as this guy's kitchen.
And unlike this guy, I don't have to "worry" about suddenly getting an email ordering me to go out and hire people. My emails usually involve things like "invitations" to after-hours online staff meetings, requests to grade essays for a third or fourth time, requests to grade tests being turned in late, etc. etc. ETC. Not "we need you to hire people to work for us."
And unlike this guy, working from home doesn't mean I'm going to be asked to do something that requires me to find a good service to do most of the heavy lifting for me. I don't look at my inbox and think "I need to hire a company to do this." I mean, I MIGHT think that, but it's not really an option. We are supposed to relate to this jackass when he's faced with the daunting task of hiring people to work for his company. Oh, poor baby- you get to hire Indeed to find people to contact and dangle jobs in front of from your million-dollar suburban home. In a country filled with well-qualified applicants desperate to work for fifty percent of what they were making a year ago at this time, yet.
Again- poor, poor baby. Don't exhaust yourself with all that "work," buddy. I want you to have lots of energy when that meteorite crashes into your house and vaporizes your entitled, whiny butt.
...Because before I got more than four or five steps up a ladder which is "easily retractable" by squeezing together two flimsy rubber knobs at the bottom, I'd certainly be making sure that my policy was up to date.
Can you even imagine being fifteen feet up in the air, painting a wall or hanging Christmas lights, knowing that your bodily health depends entirely on an Only Available on TV flimsy piece of crap you saw being advertised in between reruns of the Andy Griffith Show at two o'clock in the morning? I sure can't. I suspect that the people who would be impressed enough to buy this garbage are also in the market for after-market parachutes and lightly used contact lenses. There are things I'm willing to cheap out on. Ladders are NOT one of them.
*if they do, I'm going to go ahead and assume that it's also "easily retractable," especially when the deceased was killed doing something stupid like using one of their ladders.
Oh give me a freaking break. I own Patriots and Red Sox gear (sweatshirts, jackets, caps,* that kind of thing) but when my team wins I don't strut around like I personally won something. Because I didn't. I watched my favorite team win something. It didn't make me a winner, didn't get me a ring, and sure as hell didn't give me an excuse to deck myself out in I AM A FAN OF THIS CURRENT CHAMPION clothing so I could stand in the middle of the street with my chest puffed out and a look on my face which screams "yeah, I beat your sorry a**, loser punk. Who's your daddy now?"
These people especially need to just Stop Now. You are "fans" of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. There's a very good chance that you didn't know your city had a freaking NFL franchise until about six weeks ago (I could be generous and suggest they became fans when they heard the Bucs got that Brady guy from New England, but why would I be generous? When am I ever generous?) Just admit that you're the kind of "fans" who jump on the bandwagon just before it reaches top speed- like Red Sox "fans" who magically remembered they were fans all at the same time in late October, 2004. And then went out and bought pink, camo, purple, etc. baseball caps. And embraced that marketing ploy called "Red Sox Nation." You people make me sick. But I digress.
If I didn't want to be sued, I'd suggest that someone knock these smug-for-zero-reason posers in their stupid faces. But encouraging violence is against the law, in most cases. Most cases.
*not a Patriots cap, just a Red Sox cap. Football caps are stupid.
