February 24, 2011 § Leave a comment
Advertisers are assholes and they treat you like morons. Don’t prove them right. You should be more skeptical. I’ve seen so many commercials depicting men and fathers as helpless retard jackasses. Contrary to what you see on TV, most men are not running around with their zippers down and snot running down their nose. Look around you, there are probably some jackasses but how many of them are borderline mentally challenged and incapable of solving problems? Not many. But TV shows us there are aplenty.
Do you remember the Carl’s Jr. Ad on TV where men are wandering around the grocery store seemingly incapable of realizing there is food to eat on the shelves, not sure what to do, they rush to the fast food restaurant because that’s the only way they can figure out how to feed themselves? Give me fries and soda because I’m so stupid. I don’t know what groceries are so feed me cakes and candies. Screw you Carl’s Jr.
I also love the commercials where not only the dad is depicted as a moron, but the mom of the family is some all knowing and wise matronly goddess. Wait, please women, don’t be so quick to beat me about my retarded simpleton man-head. I respect a woman’s role in a family, and I wont pretend women don’t deserve tons of praise for what they do. I’m not sure if I could do what my wife does every day. This is why the world was designed with women AND men. But why is there such a contrast between men and women on TV? On TV women are all knowing and men need to wear Velcro shoes because they forgot how to tie their laces.
And don’t get me started on children in these commercials. Too late. Why do these kids always seem like they have more wisdom and life experience then their parents? How many teenagers not only know whats best for themselves, but also how to solve their parents problems? The answer is none, but on TV you see it all the time. Hi Dad, I’m you’re perky 14 year old daughter, since my homework is done and I have no problems of my own, let me drop a little knowledge on what you’re doing wrong. Screw you you fictional 14 year old smart ass, you don’t exist in the real world, why the hell are you on my TV? I can suspend my disbelief for a Transformers action movie, but not some commercial selling me frozen dinners.
I don’t expect to see Andy Griffith selling things on TV anytime soon, but it would be better then what we have now. Some sort of ideal to aspire to. But for better or worse we don’t live in Mayberry, because just like the people in these commercials it never existed. I realize this isn’t anything new, and I laugh my ass off every time I see the bumbling dad on Modern Family misinterpret a situation. It’s funny. But he’s a fake dad with fake problems living in a fake world. Don’t get it confused. I’d just like to remind everyone to be critical of advertisers trying to murder you and take all your money. Too far? I thought so. What I meant there was don’t let them lower your expectations of how men should act in the real world.
February 23, 2011 § Leave a comment
As most of you know by now, I’m a professional blogger. I’ve had a few posts by now, and it’s becoming clear that my blog is the most sought after location for opinion on the entire WWW (That stands for World Wide Web- try to keep up). I’ll have you know that 3 out of the 10 friends I have on facebook rush to my blog every time I so much as whisper a sentence. Did you know that I have had over one hundred hits on this blog since I started it just last month? This blog is the cream of the crop. The creme de la creme. The creamiest thing since cream of wheat. Cream is good, my blog is good like cream.
But the point is, there may be literally millions of blog posts in the world every single day, but how many of them take you to a world of pure imagination? Yes, happening upon my blog is just like finding a golden ticket to Willy Wonka’s magical chocolate factory, only better. If my blog were a painting it would be painted by Thomas Kincaid. I paint words onto your computer screen just like that man paints beautiful light onto a canvas. Did you hear that? Thomas freaking Kincaid has approached me on several occasions to see if HE can get an advertising spot on MY blog. I had to say no. This blog is information for the people and it cannot be sullied by ugly advertisements. Nothing should distract you from reading my words.
Revolutions of the highest order have been started, and the victor decided, right here from this very blog. Where does the President of the United States go for authoritative and provocative viewpoints on foreign relations? My blog. Where do Steven Speilburg and Tom Hanks go to plot their next career moves? My blog. Where does Tony Robbins come to get motivated? My blog. Where did the late Michael Jackson come to learn how to dance? My blog. Some say that the concepts put forth by this blog have altered the very rules of Natural Law itself. Pay attention folks, history is being made here. Don’t blink, or you’ll miss it.
What I’m saying is that the overnight success of this blog is mostly a testament to my incredible talent, but I’d also like to say thank you to my faithful readers for continuing to come here day after day after day. Multiple times daily. Selling your bodies in the night for just another sweet taste of my blog. And of course, you’re welcome.
February 22, 2011 § 1 Comment
And there is nothing you can do about it. I’m not going to do it to your face, I’ll keep it on the down-low, but I’m going to judge you just the same and you can’t do a thing to stop me. I’m tired of hearing people say “Don’t judge me man!” and “Who are you to judge me?” I’m not talking about judging you in the way that God is going to judge you (and me). If you thought I was, then my judgment is that you are an idiot. But just like you can’t escape Gods judgment, neither can you escape my judgment. Muahahahaha haaaaaa!
When I say I am going to judge you I mean when I see you doing something shitty I am going to have an immediate opinion of you and your actions. It’s innate and I can’t help it. And you’re doing the same to me so don’t pretend you are living on some enlightened higher plane then me. It’s the way the world works and swimming against the tide is only going to make you unhappy. I know I’ll be teaching my son to be critical of other peoples actions, but I’ll also teach him that other people will judge him if he doesn’t act right. And this is the way it should be.
I know I know, you think this is too heavy handed and somehow unfair that I say it’s OK to judge people. But look here, just like you I have a moral compass and when I see someone doing something outside that I’m going to pass judgment and file it away. I’m not going to forget. It doesn’t mean that I’m going to write the person off and not forgive them, it’s just me being cautious, and keeping my life free from assholes. Is this me saying I am better then you? No. I’m not perfect. I realize I don’t always do the right thing, and I pass judgment on myself for it, and expect others to do the same. It’s a life skill and anyone who lives in the clouds of supposed non-judgment and believes “it’s all good” is living in a fantasy world. Might as well wish for a single horned magic pony that you can ride around in sweet smelling meadows of infinite carefree joy and laughter.
I’m not talking about taking this to the extreme and hating someone who is different then you. Or judging others and thinking of yourself as above all judgment. I just think that judging peoples wrong actions keeps us all in check. If you are one of these people who truly believe “it’s all good” and that there is no objective standard by which to live your life then of course you don’t agree that we should judge each other because you believe that nothing is wrong. But if you have standards that you think we all should live up to then calling yourself and others wrongdoing out is a necessity. Whats that? You think I’m wrong? Well stop judging me man! See how ridiculous that sounds? Now go out, do your duty, and judge someone.
February 18, 2011 § 3 Comments
Not like that you pervert. I’m talking about passion in the sense of what you “really love to do”. And let me tell you something you didn’t want to know: I hate this word passion. If you know me please don’t use it near me. I’ll put out a restraining order on you. No use of the word passion within 100 yards. I guess the truth is I am jealous of people who seem to be so incredibly passionate that their passion is oozing out from their passionate pores. They are passionately bursting with passion. Some part of me tells me there is something wrong with these people, perhaps their skulls never fully hardened. Still something else makes me want just a little bit of what they have.
I once met someone and not long after we were driving and they asked me “Nick, what is your passion?” and I said “What?” and they said “Tell me something you are really really passionate about.” I would have rather drove into oncoming traffic then have a sincere talk about “my passion”. This kind of talk seems to be everywhere, haunting me. Assaulting me. I was in a local coffee house line the other day and I overheard some hipster telling his hipster friend “I’m so passionate about my passion for passion.” Ok, maybe that line was embellished a bit, but I bet it’s something that hipster wishes he came up with. Three uses of the word passion in one sentence. His friend probably would have passed out in ecstasy had he heard that sentence uttered.
Have I ever been passionate about anything? I’m not sure. Maybe when I was 12 I may have been passionate about my video games. Or maybe when I was 15 I was passionate about naked women. But even then if you’d asked me if I was passionate about it I would have said “Screw you. Don’t use the P word. Thats a bad word.” Even at that young age I knew what was up. I like a lot of things, but being passionate about anything seems to be a step too far. It seems to me anyone who is really passionate about something becomes really passionate with something else about two weeks later, throwing away their first passion in favor of a new passion which in turn gets thrown away for some other passion. Stop being so damned passionate. I do believe there are people out there that have sincere passion about the things they do so I guess my problem with the word is it’s liberal use. Save that word for something truly special. Not some book or some crappy album you just bought. Don’t use it unless you mean it. I know I won’t.
* 30 passionate uses of the word passion. Hipster approved.
February 16, 2011 § Leave a comment
The other day I was home early from work in the middle of the day and decided to turn on the television. Mistake. Within 10 minutes I was ready to off myself. Have you had this happen to you? If you haven’t seen daytime television in a while, do yourself a favor and don’t. Did you hear me? Don’t do it. You’ll slip into a depression where nobody can save you. Don’t even go into the same room as the TV. Go outside. Read a book. Stare at the wall. I turned it on and while I’m now a broken man, at least I’m here to tell you my story.
First came the commercials for some online university asking me for my money and I say to myself “I didn’t go to college. I’ve wasted my life and I’m such a loser. I probably can’t even get into DeVry.”
This isn’t making any sense. I’m happy with my life right?
The next thing I hear is someone tell me that I need to invest in gold and I say to myself “I have no money and I’ll never be successful and my family is going to hate me and then starve under a dirty freeway overpass.”
Wait a minute here, it’s not that bad is it?
Then came the ads for the elderly and their various products like scooters and life alerts and I say to myself “I’m going to get old one day and max out my credit card on some scooter and fall off of it and die because I couldn’t pay for my medical bills since I never went to DeVry!”
As if the commercials weren’t enough to make me want to jump to my death then the selection of shows definitely sent me over the edge. Manufactured outrage on cable news. Cartoons for adults. MTV’s new show “Parents Suck: Have An Ill-Advised Pregnancy”. Cooking with vapid morons. Judge Joe Brown or whoever the hell. Jerry Springer, who’s show was funny when I was a teenager but now makes me feel hollow inside. Then I begin to weep for humanity.
Should I change the channel to see whats next? I see a commercial for “The Clapper” and the voices become louder, screaming now: “What the hell are you doing with your life? You’re such a loser! You’ll never be good!” I realize I’m in a trance and I need to get out of here. “You’re poor at managing your money and you’re going to get old and have a scooter and watch Judge Judy on TV and die alone without any gold!”
My mind is racing now and my thoughts unclear. I reach for the remote-
and hit the power switch to save my life. My mind had been taken hostage. Mere seconds away from turning vegetable. Moral of the story: too much leisure time can be bad. Don’t fill it watching daytime television. It’s depressing. It’s soul sucking. Go take a walk in the rain.
February 15, 2011 § Leave a comment
Stop spoiling your child. You are ruining their chance for a normal life. They would come out better if you sent them to douche school.
Your daughter is not a princess, and your son is not a prince. The next person I see treating their son or daughter like royalty is going to get a visit from me. I’ll whip up a fake Child Protective Services badge, I will have a clipboard, and I will be watching you. From here on out your child will not have a name, only a symbol and be referred to as “the artist formally known as prince.” Listen to me. This is for your child’s own good you jackass. If you continue treating your child this way he or she will grow up to be a monumental jerk, and spend the rest of their life in failed relationships wondering why people don’t like them.
From here on out birthday parties with jumpy houses and Ferris wheels and clowns and donkeys will be a thing of the past. They will not be getting presents at other kids birthday parties simply because they can’t sit patiently while someone else opens a present. Every day cannot be their “special day”. The one day a year your daughter will be allowed to dress as a princess will be Halloween, not every other day like you secretly encourage her to do now so that you get compliments at the grocery store from other people about how sweet your daughter is because you need to fill and emotional hole in your own life you sick twisted freak.
Your son doesn’t get to have a new toy every time he doesn’t poop on the floor. Since when did standard expected behavior become something to be praised? You know your little prince is going to grow up expecting to get something for nothing, and he will be miserable for it, and so will everyone around him. Don’t lower the standard on your children and they will thank you for it later. My parents didn’t spoil me, and look, I am on the internet telling everyone else what to do so I turned out perfect.
February 8, 2011 § Leave a comment
What is this shit?
I am all for the promotion of family, but this is ridiculous. You truly have a need to show other drivers your familial make-up? You spent 5 dollars to pimp your rear window with this? Why stop here? Why not extend the stickers to show your entire family tree? I know why: because any grandpa who found a sticker version of himself on the back of his sons minivan would shit bricks. That is the same grandpa who threw away your “Grandpa loves Bennett, Cole, and Evan” license plate holder. He knows a vehicle isn’t a trophy display case. Grandpa wouldn’t put a “My child is The Shit at Lincoln Elementary” sticker on the back of his vehicle. No grandpa worth his salt would put any sticker on the back of his car because he not only knows nobody cares, but he understands that nobody should care. At least not the asshole riding his bumper at 80 mph on the freeway. Let us all take a note from grandpas playbook the next time we think it would be a good idea to advertise some part of our lives on the back of our car. And while I’m at it, the same goes for your “funny” bumper stickers. And the next person I see with plastic testicle replicas hanging from their tow bar is going to get kicked in their very real testicles. That is if their wife hasn’t already put them away for safe keeping in her purse. You and your friends are the kind of spoon-fed fruit bait that Dennis Leary hates!