Subaru+Dogs= Even More Stupid than Usual

 

The only thing dumber and sadder than this commercial are the people who like it so much that they gush all over it in the YouTube comments.  Seriously, do NOT read them on a full stomach.  

Meanwhile..."dog tested?"  Then dogs can buy them.  Stop insulting me with this crap, Subaru.  There are only two reasons why commercials like this exist:  One, you don't have to pay dogs to "act" in them. Two, you know that the American Consumer is, on average, a drooling, easily-manipulated moron who just looks at this and thinks OOOOHHH DOGS I LIKE DOGS I WISH I HAD A DOG LIKE THAT OOOH THIS IS SO TRUE OF DOGS LET ME GO TO YOUTUBE AND TELL THE PEOPLE ALL ABOUT MY DOG. 

Otherwise, this is just- Dogs.  Posed in a crappy car.  And very, very unappetizing-looking boiled hot dogs that no human would be interested in eating piled on a plate.  Did the dogs eat the hot dogs?  Who cares?  Oh right- the people who gush all over this stupid commercial.  The same people who, ten seconds after the commercial is over, will remember the dogs but not which car company made the ad.  Seriously, this makes me miss the Subaru=Love ads, and THOSE made me want to claw my eyes out.  Um, well done I guess?

Christian Faith Publishing: Because they support my Christian Views!

 

I've looked around for YEARS to find just the right publisher for my life's work, and I've finally found it in Christian Faith Publishing.  As the commercial says, only Christian Faith Publishing really reflects my views as a Christian; they are really into Crusading, Preaching, Book-banning, and Science-denying, but you could say that about MOST publishing companies.  Christian Faith Publishing goes the extra mile by being against women controlling their own bodies, both pro-birth AND pro-death penalty (and anti-welfare) which fits perfectly into my very Christian perspective.   Christian Faith Publishing also embraces the other values All True Christians embrace:  they are anti-gun control, pro-censorship, and of course pro-Trump, and have no problem discriminating against anyone who makes a Lifestyle ChoiceTM which is obviously Un-Christian (Gay, Liberal, Socialist, all that I hate because Jesus does he told me so.)  And I haven't checked yet but I'm sure that they are all for cutting family ties with Apostates through Excommunication (if they are Catholics) or Disfellowshipping (if they are Jehovah's Witnesses) or just plain Shunning (if they are Baptists, Mormons, etc.)  

So obviously if I'm going to publish my thesis about the short life of an obscure political party in the antebellum United States, who ELSE would I trust than Christian Faith Publishing? 

From the files of "oh, why not?" comes this old AIG Commercial.

 

1.  I'm sorry, but I find it really creepy that this guy is so thrilled at the idea of his family being taken care of financially (which is the only way that matters) should he kick off before they do.  I mean, it's not as bad as showing his Significant Other being thrilled at the thought, but it's still pretty bad.  I get feeling "comforted" at the thought that your family will not suffer (financially, which again...) if you die, but I don't get being so happy about it either.   Calm down, buddy.  

2.  This commercial is seven years old.  At the rate that AIG Insurance customer counter is going up, I estimate that there are roughly 3 billion more AIG customers than there are people on the planet.  So do they provide life insurance for dogs, cats and goldfish, too?

As for that "Confidence- Pass it On" commercial....

 

1.  If you believe that any of the people in this ad are related, well- I guess you are the reason the producers felt confident in just picking three random available wannabee actors to appear in it.  There isn't an ounce of chemistry between any of them, nothing to suggest anything other than that they are total strangers who met at the studio five minutes before filming. 

2.  If you are rooting for that noxious little brat to do anything but fall on her face during the recital, you are a much, much better person than I am.  This is a level of nastiness that can only be bred in a ritzy suburb by that parents of a single child who have settled into the role of butler, maid and chauffer for this smarmy little creep.  It might sound cruel, but a pratfall* resulting in absolutely NO prizes would be very good for her in the wrong run and something she desperately needs if she's going to avoid turning into an absolutely impossible adult. 

*why a pratfall and not a very good performance that is just slightly less impressive than that of another kid?  Because you just KNOW that these are the kind of people who will file a lawsuit against the judges if their Perfect Precious Darling wasn't recognized by those Nasty Meanies for what she is- the VERY BEST PERFORMER BY FAR.  After all, the only place Entitled Brats come from is Entitled Parents. 

Coventry Direct: Because We Just Don't Care Anymore

 

(Or Boomers are already spoiled enough already.  Or I'm not dying to make some damn Millenial's life a little easier. )

Here we have an old couple lamenting the fact that they spent thousands of dollars on what turned out to be Worthless Life Insurance because they didn't die as anticipated.  And they are about to pass that lamenting on to their children and grandchildren when those miserable selfish spawn of the Nowhere Near Greatest Generation find out that they'll gain absolutely nothing when the old people FINALLY pass on.  And all because Mom and Dad decided to be selfish and cash in that life insurance policy instead of continuing to make increasingly high premium payments so Sonny could buy himself a Tesla....um, to deal with the grief.  Yeah, that's it. 

Watch these old codgers sell the family homestead and leave the money to some charity next.  There's no limit to their lack of consideration for the Lesser Generations, after all. 

And the Oscar goes to.....that cookie!!!

 

(After all, it's far and away the best "actor" in this commercial.)

I gotta love the way the old guy reacts to learning that a 76-year old neighbor who likes running marathons has dropped dead "just like that," though I do find it a little creepy the way he immediately guessed that his wife was saying he died and not that he got injured running or something else.  He's so stunned that he pauses in bringing that cookie to his mouth.  

And I also gotta love the way he reads his lines- "we aren't going to have that talk about needing life insurance again, are we?"  It's so convincing.  And then it's off to the races with "the $9.95 plan," which is the only way EITHER of them refer to the Whole Life Insurance policy she has now decided they are done talking about and are definitely going to buy, today,* before one of them (preferably her husband, who just enjoys holding cookies rather than eating them) kicks off.  Which could be any moment because after all, if a 76-year old neighbor can go "just like that," how much warning are too loathsome, death-obsessed weirdos living on cookies going to get before THEY fall into the abyss?

*because a life insurance policy you can buy for $9.95 a month after the age of fifty is going to provide SUCH a great payoff.  I mean, come on.  You'll be lucky if you can buy a box of cookies for the settlement amount. 

Jimmy Walker's Medicare Commercial is beyond sad

 

I mean, at least we all recognize Joe Namath.  When Joe Namath picks up his ill-begotten paycheck for pimping this crap he can take some comfort in the fact that he didn't have to decorate the background with Extremely Un-Subtle Reminders of who he is so that the elderly people watching this nonsense didn't wonder who was trying to pitch them "extra" Medicare "insurance."

Poor Jimmy Walker has to remind us that we knew him as "JJ" and for a really dumb, best-forgotten and certainly unsung and unwept punchline that was all the rage for fifteen minutes back in the mid-70s.  Like Jimmy Walker himself.  I wonder how much this company paid him to screech "Dinomite!," considering he's probably been willing to do it for free for the past forty years for anyone willing to pose with him, ask for an autograph, and otherwise acknowledge him as a flash-in-the-pan one trick pony whose time ran out before I graduated from eighth grade.  That GEICO gig didn't come through, huh, "JJ?" 

The Good Times are over, and they ain't comin' back, Jimmy.  And nostalgia ain't what it used to be, either.