If Desmond King along with Vernone Hargreaves gives Tampa the best corners in the NFL then I would pass and I am also confused on how that is a luxury pick. The best DT, RT, or safety prospect will be better.
I discussed three crappy commercials last week if you missed it, including proof that Pitbull is the worst "musician" of all time. It's a good thing Pitbull doesn't read this Web site, or he would have sent me the following e-mail:
Boom, boom, boom, boom, why you making fun of me, yo? Boom, boom, boom, boom, better stop making fun of me, yo. Boom, boom, boom, boom, my friends will hurt your famil-ee-o. Boom, boom, boom, boom, my lawyer will give you sub-poe-na-ee-yo.
All I have to say is, thank God Pitbull is too busy banging Dolly Parton is Costa Rica to read Jerks of the Week. Phew.
Pitbull won't be suing me anytime soon for making a more creative song using his beat, so I can continue on with Crappy Commercials. I wrote about three last week - the Pitbull Bud Light ad, the "Cute Neighbor Sarah" Budwesier failure and the NCAA public service announcement. As promised, I have four five more to get to.
Aww... how sweet. The absentee mother has to do business around the world, but can still talk to her little girl. And by talk, I mean, well, just look at what she has to say:
"Good, you like trees."
And then, in her IM window:
Who the hell talks like that? And why is the little girl saying more intelligent things than her mother? Seriously, look at the IM window. Whereas the mother types one or two words per IM, the daughter is writing full sentences. How does something like this happen?
I think we should all pray for the little girl. She's going to grow up and have severe mental problems because all her mother ever said to her was "Ohh..." and "EWW!!! LOL!" I can only imagine a deep conversation between the two in 10 years...
Daughter: Mom, I'm pregnant.
Daughter: I think Dylan's the father.
Mother: EWW!!! LOL!
Daughter: I'm thinking about having an abortion though.
Daughter: But abortions cost a lot of money, and Dylan wants to keep the baby.
Mother: EWW!!! LOL!
How can someone not go into therapy after a conversation like that? More importantly, how can a woman as stupid as this one maintain a job that requires her to fly around the world? What exactly goes on in these business meetings? Hmm...
Stereotypical Japanese Businessman: I am a preese to meet you.
Stereotypical Japanese Businessman: I hope we make great business together.
Mother: Good point.
Stereotypical Japanese Businessman: I want to ask you, how you plan to make a more money for my company?
Mother: EWW!!! LOL!
Stereotypical Japanese Businessman: Eww??? What is a so eww?
Mother: EWW!!! LOL!
Stereotypical Japanese Businessman: Oh no, I have a booger on my face. Preese, I make a great dishonor for my famiry.
Mother: Good point.
Stereotypical Japanese Businessman: Yes, you seem to understand a Japanese custom. You very smart woman. You can have all of my business.
The good news is that the mom will be able to pay for her daughter's abortion because of her crafty business tactics.
This guy had something more important to do than look for financial advice. Oh no, he had the task of growing old, wrinkly and senile. That kept him busy.
This commercial is too damn depressing. We have a war veteran here who got married, but is now extremely old. All of his friends shown in the video are probably dead, and they don't even show his wife in the current-day shot. That only means one thing - she ran off with the sexy milkman. I guess the horny woman just wanted some of his dairy products, giggity, giggity.
One thing in particular bothers me about this commercial. It occurs when the old man kisses the little girl, whom we presume to be his granddaughter. Look at how she flinches. She's obviously disgusted by this. But why? I've come up with three possible reasons.
1. She's not really his granddaughter. They had to hire a little girl actress to play his granddaughter in his commercial. It's sad, but apparently his wife and the sexy milkmen took his kids when they eloped to Mexico.
2. She's upset that her grandfather doesn't know who she is. Poor girl. She wants to play games and sing songs with her grandfather, but he's long gone mentally. In fact, they may have had this conversation before the cameras started rolling.
Granddaughter: Grandpa, grandpa!
Grandfather: Weh? Who are you little girl?
Granddaughter: It's me, Molly! I'm your granddaughter!
Grandfather: Weh? I don't have a granddaughter! I'm 25 years old and I'm in Vietnam!
Granddaughter: Grandpa, you don't remember me?
Grandfather: Sucky sucky five dolla, you say? Weh? Get down, soldier! There's gunfire in the distance! I'm going to blow those Vietcong bastards to smithereens!
It's a good thing the old man's brain is jumping around so quickly; otherwise, she may have had to consider the $5 sex offer. Speaking of which...
3. She's scared because her grandfather is really Jerry Sandusky. But this is the least likely of the possibilities. We all know that Sandusky wouldn't kiss little girls. It's little boys that he's after. Unless... unless he's evolved and become Sandusky 2.0. We haven't heard from him in a while, so don't discount this possibility.
Did these retirement-fund corporations get together and decide that they would show the most depressing commercials ever this year? Seriously, what the hell is this crap? "You'll be dead by Dec. 21, 2012, but on the off chance that the Mayans were wrong, set up a retirement fund with us!"
First of all, why would polar shifts reverse the Earth's gravitational pull? There have been polar shift changes before in our planet's history, and it has never disrupted gravity. If you search for "Pole Shift Hypothesis" on Wikipedia, it doesn't even mention the word "gravity" once. And everyone knows that Wikipedia is the most reliable source for anything in the entire world.
Second, the fact that individuals actually believe the Mayan doomsday prophecy is really amusing. OK, so, people have laughed at American Indian religion for years, finding it completely absurd that there could be tree spirits and rock spirits, but as soon as there's some prediction that the world is about to end, those same people treat it as gospel.
You have to go all or nothing with the Mayans. Either you believe nothing that they've ever written, or you have to start believing in grass spirits and bush spirits and doomsday theories.
Me? I'm going to eat Oreo spirits and Cheeto spirits on Dec. 21. And on Dec. 22, I'll wake up and eat more Oreo and Cheeto spirits. And I'll be sitting on my couch, with gravity holding me down, and no stupid TD Ameritrade retirement fund in my portfolio.
Oooo00o0o0oo0o00o0o0 he's not going to be the person he's expected to be anymore 0o0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o!!!
Who is this loser expected to be anyway? And who, exactly, expects him to be a certain way?
I have no idea what this commercial is supposed to mean. Why is this idiot so angry at his press conference? Why does he not want to be what everyone expects him to be? And why does he look at the girl when he sees this? Is he admitting that he is heterosexually challenged? Does the woman expect him to boink her, but he can't because he likes wangs in his buttocks?
Whom, exactly, does this ad appeal to anyway? No straight American male is watching this and thinking, "Man, I gotta get me some Blu de Chanel so I can act like I have a dildoe up my a** during my next press conference!"
There are only two types of people who want to buy Blu de Chanel: First are heterosexually challenged men. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Second are Eurotrash males who wear this crappy cologne and go to fancy clubs. In fact, here's a common conversation between two such individuals while watching this commercial:
Slav: Melvis, look at zis commercial. Blu de Chanel make you smell like real man with big penis. We go buy Blu de Chanel, zen vee go to zee club to meet Russian voomen.
Melvis: Good idea Slav bro. Ve make deal. You go buy Blu de Chanel, I go buy expensive gold chain and track suit from store. Ve meet back at my house and zen go to club.
Slav: Oho, Melvis, you very smart vis good plan. No vooman can resist man vis Blu de Chanel cologne and expensive gold chain and track suit.
Melvis: You right. Sometime man cannot even resist ozer man vis Blu de Chanel and expensive gold chain and track suit. I hope no big guy rape me in anoos like last time.
Slav: Yeah, my anoos still hurt real bad from last time!
If you ever plan on using Blu de Chanel, for whatever reason, please don't combine it with a cheesy gold chain and a track suit. You could end up getting some wang up the backside from a large Eurotrashy dude. But if you think this sounds appealing, and not that there's anything wrong with that, then by all means, buy Blu de Chanel.
I originally didn't plan on making fun of this commercial, but CBS has played it so much during its NCAA Tournament coverage that I started noticing all of the stupid stuff in it.
For example... a frame is $35,000? And this woman just happened to have it stuffed in her attic somewhere? Who pays $35,000 for a frame? I don't even get art, and I'm certainly not one of those fancy-shmancy losers who stands in a gallery all day and says pretentious things like, "The red square that this arteest painted comes straight from his soul. I feel the pain and agony that he used when he attacked the canvas with his paintbrush."
Hey a**holes, sometimes a red square is just a red square. Get a freaking life - or at least draw some stupid red squares on your own so you can sell it for money.
Other things that piss me off about this dumb commercial...
The Meter Man: The black guy who wants to put a quarter in the meter is 25 minutes too late - but he somehow hasn't gotten a ticket. This is unrealistic. First of all, everyone knows that if a cop saw a black man driving a car, he'd call for a tow truck immediately. Second, metermaids are some of the worst people in the world. There's no way they'd miss an expired meter by 25 seconds; let alone 25 minutes.
And then there's the matter of the black guy himself. He seems normal at first, but pause the video when they show him. See anything weird? The weird blue thing around his neck? What the hell is that? I don't think I've ever seen any black guy wear a scarf in my life. But I guess it's better than a hoodie, am i rite?
Peter Frampton: I'd like to point three things out about this segment.
1. Why is Frampton at some strange dive bar? What the hell was he doing there, and why is he sober enough to play the guitar with some amateur band? There are like 20 people in this place. Shouldn't Frampton have something else better to do?
2. Look at how the brunette chick looks at him. Frampton could do anything with her at this point, and she'd agree to it. Anything. If he took her back to his hotel room and said, "Yo, babe, I want some action, but my dog would be jealous, so f*** me and then f*** my dog," she would do it without any sort of hesitation. I guarantee it.
3. Isn't it a little bit convenient that the guitar player in this band got sick? Suuureee. He got "sick." And by "sick," the guy in the band meant, "We saw Peter Frampton here, and we really wanted him to play with us, so we bought some poison from the shady guy in the corner and slipped it into our guitar player's beer. Our guitar player is dying right now in the back closet, but we don't care because A) he was kind of a douche - he never once used a coaster in my apartment - and B) Peter Frampton's going to play with us! Yeah! Ladies and gentlemen, Peter Frampton!"
So, in summary, lots of unexpected pleasures for the woman until she has to bang the dog; some unexpected pleasures for the 15 drunken dudes in this dive bar who get to listen to Frampton; and unexpected death for the guitar player.
Report Card Kid: Why is the father fist-bumping his wife? Because his son got good grades? Who the hell cares? Look at that kid's stupid haircut. He looks like a girl. If I were that dad, I'd send my son for military school for attempting to look like one of the Hanson brothers. Unless it helps him score chicks. Hmm... Maybe I should try this tactic.
Tim and Erica: Poor Tim. He has no idea what he's getting himself into. Sure, he'll be able to dance with the cutest chick in his dance class, but then what? He'll ask her out on a date, and she'll laugh in his face. Tim will cry himself to sleep every night, while Erica will go out with the captain of the football team and get impregnated.
Once that happens, Erica and the girl from the American Airlines commercial can share the same babysitter, and perhaps have a lesbian experience together. Now that's an unexpected pleasure.