1. The Mannings were in High School during the 1970s.
I mean, come on. What's with the hairstyles?
These guys are in their forties. They were in High School in the 1990s. Give me a break.
2. The Mannings think that gambling apps* are fun and actually engage with them.
I'd bet (no pun intended) more money on Ice-T actually saving money with CarShield than on either of these guys actually gambling on sporting events. That's really not something multimillionaires do.
3. The Mannings will put their faces on anything if the money is right.
We were pretty sure of this one already- and these ads just confirm that.
*I'm told that what is being advertised here is a free game, which changes things not in the slightest. Lots of drug dealers offer free samples to get people hooked out of the goodness of their heart. "Free" offers like this are just gateways to addiction and the suppliers know it.
I mean, we can't get enough of Stupid Clueless Men trying everything and failing badly every time. Why not as series of ads in which the guy tries and fails and it involves sports? (Weren't men obsessed with sports on tv five minutes ago? And now they know nothing about it?)
At least give us some backstory on this guy to explain his cluelessness. He was raised on the moon, for example, and has arrived on Earth in the last week and is trying to fit in. Right now, it looks as though he just never turned on the tv or interacted with any other males of his species until yesterday and is just trying to catch up. Because yelling "high tide" and not being aware that Oregon's mascot is a duck....wait a minute. Is this guy actually traveling around the country to show what an utter doofus he is? What is going on here?
The PF Chang restaurant next to my gate at Ronald Reagan National Airport was playing this ad pretty much nonstop for the hour leading up to my departure for Vermont for winter break. I actually thought it was a parody until I realized that the tv was tuned to some channel that probably thinks that One America Network is too Woke. The volume was not on, but I picked up some of the scrolling text- stuff about "standing up for America," being "prepared for anything" and "ready to stand strong" against--um, anyone who might challenge your right to own a stupid knife emblazoned with the name of your Dear Leader, I guess.
At first, I could understand why the tv was tuned to this particular channel on this particular day- it's the Saturday before the inaugural, and plenty of bloated, middle-aged white people with hard faces and empty heads were exiting from aircraft to spend a few days in a city they can't stand Because Reasons. But then I thought-- wait a minute. Don't restaurants at airport gates generally cater to DEPARTING flyers waiting for their flights to board? What percentage of people taking in any of the amenities at an airport are already at their destination? Who hangs around an airport after landing? It seems to me that PF Changs was providing right-wing media trash for an audience that simply didn't exist.
At any rate, my cold little heart was warmed a little bit at the news that the outdoor festivities have been cancelled due to impending bad weather- a Democrat Plot, no doubt, as the last time the weather forced an inauguration indoors was in January, 1985 when another great Republican was about to take his second oath of office. Poor, poor MAGA- whatever will they do without the opportunity to show their Orange Mussolini how much they love him by waving flags and signs on the mall? It's not like this crowd is interested in touring the Smithsonian, after all.
On second thought, I'm kind of sorry that the entire thing was moved indoors- it seems to me that Real Patriots like Trump America could have just toughed it out against the elements, keeping themselves warm by burning books in trash cans just like their philosophical forbearers did. Or just huddled in one giant mass of the Proudly Unvaccinated to start another COVID spike. Either way- Mr. Trump, please veto the figurative snowflakes who think that actual snowflakes should stand in the way of MAGA nation showing its pride and sharing its germs. Our nation's collective IQ will rise slightly, and absolutely nothing of value will be lost.
Eventually every recognizable figure from sports and Hollywood will be pimping for America's Favorite Life-Destroying Addiction, and when the fever passes (probably following an economic collapse which will briefly SPIKE use of gambling apps) all of these people should be booed off the stage, regardless of where or what that stage is.
Then I remember that I live in a country that just re-elected a grifting, treasonous sexual predator, and also that nobody is burning Larry David or Tom Brady in effigy for peddling a Bitcoin scam just a few years ago, and realize that all of these shameless hucksters will be just fine. There's no limit to our appetite for being kicked hard in the face. It's almost as if, deep down, we know we deserve it.
Imagine being this delivery guy. It's the NFL playoffs, which means it's a uniquely busy time at your place of work, which by the way will pay you your contracted rate if there's a lot to do and fire you as soon as business slacks off. At any rate, you aren't watching the playoffs from the comfort of YOUR couch. Not when there are pizzas to be delivered to douchenozzles like the guys in this ad.
So you get to your next delivery stop, and ring the bell while holding a stack of rapidly-cooling pizza and wings. Nobody comes to the door. You look inside, and you see two guys sitting in a huge living room watching a high-end HD TV, apparently engaged in some kind of conversation instead of just getting their delivery. You ring the bell again. The two choads on the couch keep talking; just because they pulled out an iPhone and opened an app and purchased thirty or forty bucks worth of pizza and wings doesn't mean that taking possession of that "food" is a priority.
So you just stand there, wondering if you've been punked or are at the wrong address. Presumably, they finally come to the door and may or not reward you with a tip and actual eye contact, but don't think for one moment that they are going to apologize for throwing you off schedule and making the next five stops on the route late and decorated by Karens who insist on discounts because their "food" is cold and will absolutely stiff you on that tip you kind of need to survive. Before you head home to the Basement Efficiency you share with two of your co-workers.
But it's all good because two jackasses in a suburban mansion too good to get off their damned couch to answer the door, let alone actually go out and get the food themselves, wanted to have a MENSA meeting over pizza or something. This is just gross.
