WTF Is This?

Your dreams were your ticket out.

So, it’s a new month, and the site has a new look. Aren’t those pretty little grey maple leaves blowing in the wind back there? Fuck yes they are.

My intention is to blog more. Maybe the site redesign will help that. It’s been tough finding little things to complain about these days. When your very young daughter has as much interest in shitting and/or sleeping as I have in shoving razor blades up my ass, things like whether or not they’re going to go ahead with Ghostbusters 3 without Bill Murray start to seem pretty fucking petty by comparison. But no longer will I stand idly by and let it seem like I’m not getting pissed off at stupid little shit on the internet anymore.

Exhibit A: What the fuck is this shit?

Recently we purchased a wheel bearing for a 08 Hyundai Accent. It was incredibly hard to come by. Apparently they’re still having distribution problems for aftermarket car parts for Asian cars. Or at least, that’s what they told us at the parts store. I have a different theory. I think the company that makes them suddenly realized they made a huge fucking mistake when they named their company’s brand.

You keep using that word.
I do not think it means what you think it means.

As you can see, Schaeffler Technologies uses, for some reason I can’t imagine, the acronym FAG for its brand name. I get it. I see the .de in their internet address. They’re a German company. But I can’t imagine how any company would go international and not notice that, in at least one of their target continents, their fucking brand name is a goddamn homophobic slur. I know they have teams of lawyers dedicated to finding this shit out. And in some boardroom meeting, someone asked the group “Are we sure we want to go with FAG in North America?” And a roomful of German suits nodded their heads in agreement.

I’ll say this though… They don’t shy away from it at all. Look at that box. Go ahead. Zoom in on that shit. They’ve got a gigantic FAG up in the corner, and about 100 little FAGs on each side. You know that has to be the joke of whatever graphic designer ended up with this project on his desk.

There is no way we’re landing this account.
They like it? What? Seriously?.
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Prejudging Candy.

Tonight, while buying groceries, I saw something that I can’t believe actually exists. What is this?

Seriously… what the fuck is a midgee? How have I not been let in on this before now? How, in this day and age, can such a product exist on store shelves without hell itself opening up and swallowing us all whole? Just because you change a letter in a word to make it sound cute, doesn’t mean that your average every day person can’t still tell what exactly the word had been derived from. Especially when your product is smaller than normal.

Don’t get me wrong, being as completely politically incorrect as I am, I find this product hilarious. No doubt it has been around for decades, infuriating Little People all over the western world. I’d love to have been in on the board room discussion for that one.

“They’re basically normal candy… but smaller.”

“Heh… Like midgets. I like it. Let’s call ’em Tootsie Roll Midgets.”

“But sir, won’t someone get offended?”

“You’re right. But I like this midget angle. Any suggestions?”

“Bite-size? Minis? Midgees? Teenies? Widdle Tootsies?”

“What was that third one again?”

“The one that was basically Midget, without actually saying it? Midgees. I was just kidding, I’m pretty sure someone would still find th–“

“Goddamn, I think we’ve struck gold here, gentlmen. This is a fucking slam dunk. What’s next?”

I *still* fucking hate commercials.

So, the little bit of TV that I have watched these last few weeks has been full of commercials as always. But one particular brand of commercial has been standing out quite a bit lately. Yogurt. Fucking yogurt commercials are on every goddamn show on every goddamn channel, every goddamn day.

Yogurt commercials, like most commercials for consumables these days, are particularly bad offenders for creating scientific sounding, market-friendly words… or “Making Shit Up”, as they call it in the real world. I don’t know what the flying fuck a B.L. Regularis is supposed to be, but I can damn well fuckin’ assure you it is either:

  • A) No where’s near as fancy and scientific as they’d have you believe.
  • 2) Real, but completely fucking devoid of any kind of value on a digestive level
  • iii) Completely and utterly made the fuck up bullshit.

Same thing goes with Omega anything, Pre and Pro-biotic blah blah blah, and whatever the fuck Saturn’s yellow rings are supposed to represent. Which of course, is a whole other ball game. Why, WHY, is all the “good stuff” in yogurt commercials yellow? They’re hinting at it making you crap more, right? If my crap was to come out in yellow balls… well… Let’s just say there’s a short list of things that would make me go to the doctor, and you can be damn well sure that shitting out yellow balls patterned into an arrow shaped form is on that fucking list.

Now I’m so worked up, I’m too fucking lazy to YouTube these piece of shit commercials so I can growl about them more. I fucking hate commercials.

I Fucking Hate Commericals

I can’t fucking stand commercials. They’re all fucking stupid. Even the ones I like, I fucking hate, because they’re commercials. I’m sure there’s all sorts of ways that they benefit the world… increasing employment, getting out an important message, generally increasing economic growth…

See what I did there? I could have used “stimulating” rather than “increasing” there, but then I’d be an even bigger asshole than I already am. I’m so fucking sick of the word stimulate/stimulating/stimulus that I could scream. But that’s another post. I’m here to bitch about commercials.

As I said, I’m sure they’re great for all kinds of really important fucking reasons. But mostly, they drive me up the fucking wall. Last night was particularly bad for me. I was trying to watch what turned out to be a really shitastic episode of Heroes, when every 15 minutes or so, I got hit with a ton of my most hated commercials. At this moment, I’m mostly riled up about how terrible the gum commercials are… so that’s what I’m going to focus on.

Dentyne – Make Face Time

So this fucking thing is on all the fucking time.  I’ve seen this more of this fucking thing in the last few months than I have of snowflakes.  And I live in Eastern Canada.  I’ve seen a pile of fucking snowflakes.  This pile of dogshit is actually a shorter version of another commercial they made a few months back.  Shorter should be better and less annoying right?  Wrong.   At least in the longer version you didn’t have some fucking idiot read the text to us.  Oh, does that really say the original instant message?  If kids can’t read that they’re not fucking smart enough to buy your piece of shit gum.

And the message they’re conveying…  Oooh we’re so fucking hip.  We know technology has destroyed the way people think about social relationships.  A peck kiss is the original instant message.  Fuck you.  “Mmmlunh.”  That was the original instant message.  Two fucking cave assholes.  One was probably trying to sell the other one a sharpened stone for 2 round ones and a stick or some fucking thing.  A peck on the lips isn’t even a fucking message.  It sends one, sure.  But it is not, in itself, a message.  I’d like to film myself hitting whatever choda-licking douche came up with this one with a sledgehammer and edit in that pop they use for when their skull caves in and blood splurts out on the lens a little.
Also… fuck off with the hip indy style music.  I don’t give a shit how popular Lily Allen, Feist or any other neo-hippie, indy rock near-starlets are becoming.  Just because Belle & Sebastian are showing up on a shitton of Last.fm playlists in recent years doesn’t mean that the music sounds good.  Shoo sha sho shut the fuck up.
Trident Xtra Care – Thank You

This one… angers me beyond words.  When I watch it, I want to puke.  Creating this shit is what someone is using their graphic arts degree on.  They went to school for years to learn how to design and animate.  And this thing is what they’re using their hard earned skills for.

The idea is tired.  The use of computer animation is tired.  The making up of words  is tired.  Seriously, Recaldent?  Recaldent?  Holy shit, I need some of that.  I can almost feel the calcuim of my teeth regenerating at the look of the word.  I bet the janitor needed the Xtra big mop to clean the jizz off the marketing boardroom floor.
I long for these days :
Remember then? When catchy tunes and strong sexual overtones sold us gum instead of stupid fucking animations, an annoying voice and a ridiculous face?  That jingle was so successful in brainwashing me and my generation that when they made fun of it years later every one of us had a collective nostalgasm and bought some Juicy Fruit, even though the taste now lasted for only 30 seconds instead of 60.
Know how soon I’m going to buy some Trident Xtra Care?  Never.  Ever.  If Mel buys it, I’ll throw it out.  I would greatly appreciate it if they’d lick my Recaldent™.

Slow Month

Hasn’t really been that much going on lately that I haven’t already growled about.  It’s been ridiculously cold this week, but no one has really annoyed me that much.

The only people that have pissed me off lately have been Rogers.  They sent me an offer in the mail, which normally wouldn’t bother me.  But this was an offer for a free Xbox360 game… one I really want called “Gears of War 2”.  It features a machine gun with a freaking chainsaw built into it.
Yeah.  Awesome.
So I call them up, to find out what hoops will need to be jumped through to get a free videogame.  Turns out I can get the game if I switch to either of their high-end packages…  10MB max dl speed, blah blah blah, stuff I don’t give a shit about that help sell internet to people that don’t know shit about it, modem with a wired/wireless router built-in, no installation fees, 15 bucks for “Activation Fees”… All sounds good so far, Gears 2 for 15 bucks basically…  Until they get to the final clause, the two packages have 60GB or 95GB max usage per month.
I only have a 100GB hard drive, and I fill and empty the thing on an almost weekly basis, without including my online gaming.  Since Thursday I believe I’ve downloaded about 12 GB of a show called Celebrity Big Brother UK.  It’s awesome.  They’ve got LaToya Jackson locked into a house with Mini-Me and Coolio, and a bunch of famous Brits I’ve never even remotely fucking heard of.  I downloaded a Gig of videos onto my Xbox.  Mel’s likely downloaded some episodes of a shitty 80s/90s sitcom.  That doesn’t include any actual gaming, Facebooking, YouTubing, Torrent Seeding or any other foolishness that goes on through the tubes of internet that get clogged every Saturday.
Fuck you Rogers.  The internet is not a cellphone.  Offer unlimited usage, or suck the 10GB that I sprinkle on my Kellogg’s Corn Flakes™ each morning as part of my complete fucking breakfast.

I Got Yer Usage Right Here.

I was torn there. Wasn’t sure if that should be the caption, or “This image is actually so big I could only download it 3030 times in a month if I went with Rogers.”

It’s a New Year

“Hey, Bruce, it’s a new year!  You can finally stop complaining about Christmas stuff, right?”

Wrong.
Holy fuck are you ever wrong.
I’m still complaining about Christmas stuff, because here it is… Christmas is over…  more than 2 weeks have past since 12/25/08 and yet there are those that refuse to let it go.  The those that there are, of course, are those in the business of advertising.  Anyone on radio, or television that created an ad geared towards the Christmas/New Year’s duo, or a “Happy Holidays” jobby, is still running the piss out of their ad on every medium they can manage.

So I say to you, dear advertiser, Stop.  Just fucking stop it right fucking now.  Two weeks.  Get over it.  9 fucking days have past since New Year’s Day.  You shouldn’t even be running the New Year shit anymore.  There are no Holidays left to be happy in.  Not for months.  So just stop it right the fuck now.  I should not have to hear about elves, boxing day, boxing week, Holidays, or any of that other shit for a good long while.

If you’re the advertising director at any form of broadcasting station, be it radio, television, webpage, or even wired telegraph, and someone comes to you this week with any Holiday/New Year themed ad…  I don’t care if it’s a major client, your boss, anyone…  Here’s what I want you to do.

I want you to take out your cell phone.  I know you have one.  Take it out of your pocket, and press the little button that lights up its display.  Now, walk over to whoever presented you with this ad, and show them the date… really, really, close to their face.  Tell them that unless you missed a memo, you’re pretty fucking sure it’s not the Holiday fucking season any more, and stab them in the eye with the pointiest, sharpest edge of your phone.  Grab them by the hair and drag them into your cubicle.  Yes, your cubicle.  I know you’re not nearly important enough to actually have an office.  Point their head at the calendar on your desk.  Ruffle through the pages of the calendar with your free hand.  Ask if they see how many pages are left.  Is there a lot of them left?  If at any point they ask “What?”, I want you to bang their head against the desk.  When they’ve agreed that there are a lot of pages left, tell them the next time they come to you with a Holiday themed ad with that many pages left to a calendar, you’re going to shove a Candy Cane up their ass, twist it around, and break it off.  One for each day left on the calendar before the Holiday season returns.  They’ll know you’re serious, too… because you just got a metric shit-ton of reduced Candy Canes from Wal-mart.  Know why they’re reduced?  ‘Cause it’s not fucking Christmas anymore.