Tinfoil Viking Science: Carbomb Derby

Situation Normal. Atmosphere Breathable. Brainstem Injected. Dialogue Engaged.

Monday, February 07, 2005

Carbomb Derby

Have you ever slammed your finger in a door because it felt good when you stopped?

I watch television occasionally. Usually just movies and sporting events. Invariably my brain is slow cooked like those nasty looking burger stix on rollers at 7-11. The ones that look like poop rolled in corn flour. This pollution of my synapses is caused by the demon named Advertising.

It's time for a message from our sponsors. Fuck, I hate commercials.

Do I want a tempur-pedic mattress or a sleep number bed? Will my decision impact my life? Maybe I should get a mattress that motors into a chair so that I can live on it forever and have that Peapod service deliver my groceries. I'll get a clapper for the lights. I'll hire a nurse to empty my bedpan. I could skip the bedpan idea and get a vacuum instead and poop into the tube. I'll finance it all by inviting cameras into my bedroom to watch me bloat. Reality! I'll watch myself on TV. The series finale will show some mischievous soul pop me with a tent stake. Guts will drip onto the light bulbs and sizzle there while the credits roll.

Whew, the matress commerical is over. Everything is back to normal now and I am a sane man. What's this? Why, it's a commercial inviting me to feed a third world child and teach him that Jesus loves him.

These small brown children have large eyes with flies crawling in them. Nibbling on the salty mucoid material welling up at the tear ducts. I can buy a child for 17 cents a day, the same as a cup of coffee. Wait, where can I get coffee for 17 cents? Did they say sponsor a child or buy a child? My kid will arrive in two weeks? Oh, my kit. Not kid. Enunciate your words, asshole spokesman. I thought I was seeing an honest to christ tsunami sex ring for pedophiles advertising on A&E. It's already bad enough that you're trying to grab me by the heartstrings and tug violently enough to leave me with a gaping chest cavity, but you're also insinuating that these withered little bags of flesh are for sale. It's disturbing and it's ruining my dinner.

Thankfully that one ended. I've never seen bigger shinier eyes in my whole life and I found it creepy. Eyes that said "If you don't send me $5 and a box of crayons I'm going to get plowed into this latrine ditch by a bulldozer tomorrow." So what's the next ad? I really just want to watch the ending of Chocolat so I can go to bed. Is that Frodo on a pirate ship? He sure has gotten taller. Oh, it's Jeff Gordon from Pepsi and the North American Stock Car Asshole Racers. What's with the scimitar?

I don't believe for one second that a racecar driver is a gladiator stabbing pirates on the deck of a boat. Bad metaphor, bad cliche, bad advertisement for the Daytona 500. Here's my ad, and my insight into gearhead culture. They should have the driver stick his finger in the electrical outlet and shudder until he comes in his overalls and then collapses, dead and steaming.

That's not a swagger when those car drivers get out after the victory lap. That's exhaustion. They can barely stand up. You see, they sweat a lot sitting in those bucket seats. Their asscracks get swampy and greasy. With all that vibration, they're probably friction burning the asscrack skin right off. I'll bet they can't shit without a turkey baster full of baby oil. That southern drawl in their voice is actually slurring from prescription painkillers. They probably have to go to the pit stop just to fart.

Baseball season is starting soon. All the ads will be for airplanes, beer, and car insurance and the world might seem normal again. I need to stay away from the idiot box until then.

4:30 PM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm

13 Comments:

February 08, 2005 12:26 PM, sic said...: If you don't watch television how will you know which insurance company loves you the most? Or which brand of carbonated sugar-water will help you have the most sex? Or which car won the most JD Power awards?
February 08, 2005 1:26 PM, bethany said...: Come on, The North Shore is a really good show. You know you watch it.
February 08, 2005 2:03 PM, Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...: I thought it was a place in the north suburbs of Chicago, not a show. Let's look it up, shall we? Googling in progress. Results: NORTH SHORE ON FOX OFFICAL WEBSITE. Loading official webpage. Let's see what we get here.

I would rather crawl up a flatulent walrus' ass. I hated Beverly Hills 90210 when I was in jr. high and I still hate it now. Shaneen Doherty needs to grab Willis and Anna Nicole so they can all go back to the volcano that spewed them forth to wreak havoc upon civilization, forever tarnishing our beautiful skies with poisonous ash.

Don't tease me like this. If I were a grease sucking old man my aorta would've ruptured from the stress.

Now to wait until 1:26 to post this in perfect succession. Nah, fuck it.
February 08, 2005 3:10 PM, Latigo Flint said...: I think the next trend in advertising won't be endorsements by the famous but rather implying that the infamous enjoys/enjoyed your competitor's product. Hitler knocking back a Bud-Light and whatnot.
February 08, 2005 3:32 PM, Bookfraud said...: The pirate/ASSCAR metaphor is apt. In the stands of an ASSCAR race are fewer teeth than on a 18th Century pirate ship of scurvy-laden, lice infested, boy buggering human excrement. Hey! It's 1 vs. 34!

Who won Bud Bowl?
February 08, 2005 6:58 PM, Wardo said...: Why buy a child for 17 cent? Go to Thailand and buy an older girl. You can have her all night for faster than you can say, "Two American Dollar! Me love you long time!"

A
February 09, 2005 9:08 AM, sic said...: House is good, but I have to wonder how many Americans got the following joke.

House (played by Hugh Laurie): Is that your stiff-upper-lip British way of saying (whatever)?
Other dude: I'm not British. I'm Australian.
House: Whatever. You've got the Queen on your money, you're British.

So Americans... Do you get it? Do you know why it's funny?

I'm lame. I'm going away now.
February 09, 2005 10:13 AM, Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...: Candi, I know FOX shows by the "key dialogue" they use in advertising. These are loudly spoken during the promos played during commerical breaks for football and baseball games. The show you're referring to is actually called "YOU'RE RISKING A PATIENT'S LIFE!"

Another one that stuck with me during the 2003 baseball playoffs was called "HER FATHER IS THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY!"
February 09, 2005 5:37 PM, Stace said...: I WISH I HAD TIME TO WATCH TV!!! grrrrr
February 10, 2005 3:03 AM, Anonymous said...: I'm telling Bill Simmons on you.
February 10, 2005 10:14 AM, Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...: I just reread my post and I didn't go after the Celtics, Red Sox, or Patriots. Why would Bill Simmons get mad at me?
February 10, 2005 3:29 PM, Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...: I borrowed a friend's login for ESPN insider to reread some Simmons columns, Anonymous. I just had to know what you meant. After two hours I found it. The whole FOX key dialogue thing is his! I found mentions during the playoff columns last October. And I read them back then! My weak little brain thought it was my notion. I'm an unintentional plagiarist. That's pathetic. What kind of penance do agnostics perform?

The key dialogue did, in fact, bother the shit out of me for Skin. As you can see all ads stick in my craw in one way or another. I remember Skin in particular clearly because I'm a Cubs fan, and I was glued to the tube for the Cubs/Marlins 2003 NLCS. It was such a sad time.
February 11, 2005 11:34 PM, Latigo Flint said...: Happens to me all the time: read it, like it, forget it, regurgitate it - and probably happens plenty more times than I ever eventually became aware of.

Anyone who's read more than 2 of your posts knows you're original to the core. It was slightly petty of me to say (and I knew it, thus the anon-o) I was also just glad to find someone else who digs Bill Simmons and I wanted to do a me-too chest thump.

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