I Know There's a Writer's Strike...

But get some freaking originality.

One Missed Call...

I liked it a lot better when it was a video and called The Ring.


Merry (or Happy, you weird people) Christmas.

I'm Pretty Sure I'm a Marketing Genius...

So, even though retail establishments now start gearing up for Christmas pretty much on December 26th, there's a period when you reaaaaaaally know it's that glorious holiday shopping season. The week of Thanksgiving. Why? That's when three sets of commercials start becoming unavoidable:

1) Jewelry
2) Toy
3) Fragrances

Now, I have nothing against toy ads, though since I watch a little bit of children's programming I tend to get deluged with them. I do have a really big problem with jewelry ads at any time of year. I'm sorry, but diamonds do not equal love. Stop selling them like that. Plus, this year, there's been this onslaught of patronizing jewelry commercials where somehow the man is seen as either ignorant of jewelry stores altogether ("wait, how did he know about Shaws?") or just flat out superior ("He went to Jared.").

But it's the fragrance ads that really crack me up. Has there ever, and Bart means eeeeeeever, been a more pretentious advertisement than one for a perfume or cologne? The presentation, the voice overs, the production values that are better than some shows on television. All for smell juice. Are you kidding? And this has been SOP since at least the 80s. It's like they figure if the scent is going to have a really ridiculously pretentious name, they might as well go whole hog.


I said this to The Queen the other night, and I meant it. A company should have a fragrance ad where a guy or gal is standing in a very plain background (like the I'm a PC, I'm a Mac commercials, which by the way, even though I'm not a Mac head, I find funny, if pretentious), and they say "Choices. Cologne or perfume. It smells nice." Commercial over. I'd buy that shit on principle alone. And think of how much money they'd save. They could probably afford to sell the scent for way less, and make it up on volume from the millions of people refreshed by the honesty and simplicity of the ad campaign.

By the way, if there isn't a cologne or perfume named "Choices" and it comes out in the near future, I will be demanding restitution.

Get off my TV, Rachael Ray

So, can't stand her. Her being Rachael Ray. Wasn't really fond of her before her over exposure, but now that she's everywhere (and Bart means EVERYWHERE!) I really want her to have some sort of horrible scandal where we find out she sacrifices babies for her fame and fortune or something.

No one is that damn happy. I don't care what anybody says. She's on uppers or something. It's Kelly Ripa like bizarre. Like her face is permanently frozen in a Joker grin. Frown woman! Get angry!

I mean, I swear to jeebus, every time that one Dunkin Donuts commercial comes on and she says "Delish!" with this stupid wink look, I wish I had super powers to reach through my TV so I could slap the smile off her face.

I don't quite hate her as much as I do Celine Dion (the anti-Christ), but she's working on it. Hopefully in the very near future, her and Dr. Phil can become afterthoughts in the Oprah generation juggernaut.

I remember a few years back, when I barely knew who she was, but was already annoyed with her, they had these Ritz crackers adverts in the grocery store, and someone had drawn a fake mustache on it. That cracked me up. Still does when I think back on it. I'm smiling as a recollect that glorious defamation.

Oh, I'm supposed to mention that even though she's heinous and so damn chipper I want to hurt her, at least she isn't waif thin and is a "real woman." So, there's like, one positive to about a trillion negative.

The Garden Sheet...

So, I got my mom sheets for Christmas. I'd worry about announcing this on my blog when we're a week out from Christmas still, but she doesn't have computer access. Plus, she's fairly computer illiterate, and probably thinks a blog is a naughty euphemism for poo. And plus, her MS has given her the memory of goldfish. She probably already forgot that I even gave them to her already, so I can maybe give her two gifts for the price of one this season. I'm an awful, yet awesome, person, I know. I got her jersey knit sheets. Why? Why not? Jersey knit sheets are effin' awesome. I can't believe you people don't use them. I can't believe that jersey knit isn't the standard, instead of those...uh...other kind. I can't even feel those things anymore without feeling like I scratched my skin all up from the coarseness of the devil fabric.

Anyway, I also got them for her because I wash her sheets for her (most of the time) and one of her sets is pretty much obliterated. I figured she might want a much softer set, because she's crippled and all. Oh, sorry. Handicapped. Oh, sorry, handicapable. Jesus, that's a nuisance. When did we start giving a shelf life to positivity? Give it a few years, and the term will be something ridiculous like handicripple. Simply because handicapable will have earned this perceived negative stigma. Getting the train back on the track here...anyway, she can't move her legs and tends to get like, you know, bed sores. So while I seriously doubt the power of the jersey knit will stop her from getting sores, I figure it might make her at least a little more comfortable. Am I an awesome son or what?

Anyway, jersey knit rules, and you drool.

Next time...my out of nowhere hatred for Rachael Ray.

People Should Really Think About What This Says...

So, in January, the Maryland State Police are having their annual Polar Bear Plunge. Charity event, with the proceeds going towards The Special Olympics. I can get on board with this. In case you don't know what the Plunge is, you basically get people to pledge you, then you hop in to sub zero waters (here, the Chesapeake Bay) and prove you're slightly crazy. Which is kinda the essence of a lot of charity drive events. Though in the case of walk a thons, walking is something we're supposed to do. I don't think humans were meant to jump half clothed in to freezing water for kicks. But it's relatively harmless, and it's for a good cause.

But that's not what I went "hunnnwha?" at recently. I was not aware that there's a higher level that raises the most money. The Super Plunge. That's where you jump in the water in a Superman outfit. Bah, I wish. That wouldn't be bat shit insane. Well, what is bat shit insane?

Every hour on the hour, for 24 hours, doing the plunge.

Bat. Shit. Insane.

If it were 12 hours, it'd still be crazy, but not quite bat shit insane. 24 straight hours. No real sleep, and subjugating yourself to freezing temperatures every hour on the hour. Let's possibly get reaaaaaaally sick for charity! How about we just let ourselves be injected with debilitating diseases, pledge your money per disease? Or how about we start jumping in to lions dens, for every second you survive, a charity gets a dollar?

But however bat shit insane I feel you have to be to do that, I take more of an issue with the fact that it earns so much money. Why can't you just give that much money for the people doing the regular plunge? Why'd they have to create this completely bat shit insane stunt to get the good numbers?

www.plungemd.com

What exactly the hell is wrong with us?

...and I'm back.

At least, I hope.

I'm sure I have tons of stories floating around to get back on track, but there's a pressing one. Less than 12 hours old in fact.

At 7:10 am this morning I fell down some stairs.

As fits my existence, it wasn't even an awesome fall, with even an iota of grace. My feet came out from under me, thanks to about a millimeter of ice, and I went down on my ass. And then proceeded to go down that way for the duration of the stairs, about seven steps or so. I also managed to hurt my arm in the process, I think I must have gotten it caught under me as I went down or trying to stop the "slide" down or something.

What a way to start my day, huh? Couldn't even fall in a way that got me out of work, either. Though I did file a report just in case there was any lingering effects besides the big ass (no pun intended) bruise and a scraped up ego. Which there won't be.

My only saving grace is that nobody saw it happen. Of course, I'm now proceeding to ruin that by telling the effin' world all about it.