I HATE commercials. Absolutely despise them. It's hard to believe that some of their factual statements need repeating. Case in point, I recently saw a commercial for a leading-brand toilet paper.
I'll speak plainly below, so if you're easily grossed out stop reading.
They stated something that I never knew! Toilet paper, while mainly used to clean you, should also keep you clean! They hint here that your HANDS should also be clean when you're done. You know, after all these years it's nice to finally have someone tell me that. Until now, I was clueless. Maybe that's why no one wants to stand near me.
This commercial is wrong on so many levels. There must be an element in our society who don't expect to have clean hands when they're done? They must have done some opinion testing that included a question that went something like "would you buy toilet paper that works?" Are people now so dumb that they look at thin toilet paper and think "gee, I could use more to make sure my hands stay clean but I think I'll use one square."
I usually blame the advertising group that pitched the commercial to the company executives. In this case though, I have to blame our stupid society. Advertisers carefully research their messages. They must have researched this and found that our modern-day morons don't know how to keep themselves clean. Frankly, the commercial scares the crap out of me (pardon the pun).
I'm never going out in public or shaking another hand again.
Friday, February 18, 2011
The Maury Effect
If you want to see proof that natural selection has failed, just watch the Maury show (or your local 5pm newscast). I would reference Springer but I find the Springer people to be the lowest common denominator. There will always be Springer people in the world. There have been since the beginning of time. Springer people usually don't have the intelligence to figure out how to have children. We're relatively safe from the Springer people causing mass societal chaos. They're too busy trying to figure out how to grow weed or find the next transsexual in their park.
The Maury show is one step above. Maury is like the middle-class of trashy TV shows. It's a relative sampling of mid-level degenerates. It's a program that showcases the result of rampant breeding of intellectual inferiors. Inferior to whom? Inferior to the general intelligence of society as a whole.
The vast majority of individuals appearing on the show have 2 or more children, have 2-15 possible fathers for their newest wonderful creation, and are most likely in the lowest 10% of intellect. These people represent the biggest threat to society. They are just smart enough to figure out how babies are made and just dumb enough to not know how to prevent them.
The genetic material being mixed to create the next generation of morons is particularly troubling. When you combine two individuals who, by nature, wouldn't have survived on their own (probably hit by a car early on because they couldn't figure out that cars at speed can hurt) the result isn't just a combination of stupidity. I've found that two stupid people create a new stupid person with infinitely more stupidity. It's like the two morons have created a super moron. It's as if nature is telling us "Well, ok but I'm going to have to punish you and the rest of society so maybe you'll all learn not to do this." Nature is being ignored at the moment.
A tell-tale sign of the Maury effect is people who slap their hands together when they're mad and trying to explain something. These individuals have no other means to communicate. Their diminutive brains are overloaded and that extra mental energy generates actual physical energy that must be released. That release is shown in the subconscious slapping of hands together. Usually this happens in the form of slapping one fist into the open palm of the other hand. It's nice that there is an added element of violence with the fist. Watch out for these people. If you see them outside of a store, steer clear. They are not in tune with their actions and will most likely attack you. Maybe that's a bit of a stretch but don't say I didn't warn you.
The Maury show is one step above. Maury is like the middle-class of trashy TV shows. It's a relative sampling of mid-level degenerates. It's a program that showcases the result of rampant breeding of intellectual inferiors. Inferior to whom? Inferior to the general intelligence of society as a whole.
The vast majority of individuals appearing on the show have 2 or more children, have 2-15 possible fathers for their newest wonderful creation, and are most likely in the lowest 10% of intellect. These people represent the biggest threat to society. They are just smart enough to figure out how babies are made and just dumb enough to not know how to prevent them.
The genetic material being mixed to create the next generation of morons is particularly troubling. When you combine two individuals who, by nature, wouldn't have survived on their own (probably hit by a car early on because they couldn't figure out that cars at speed can hurt) the result isn't just a combination of stupidity. I've found that two stupid people create a new stupid person with infinitely more stupidity. It's like the two morons have created a super moron. It's as if nature is telling us "Well, ok but I'm going to have to punish you and the rest of society so maybe you'll all learn not to do this." Nature is being ignored at the moment.
A tell-tale sign of the Maury effect is people who slap their hands together when they're mad and trying to explain something. These individuals have no other means to communicate. Their diminutive brains are overloaded and that extra mental energy generates actual physical energy that must be released. That release is shown in the subconscious slapping of hands together. Usually this happens in the form of slapping one fist into the open palm of the other hand. It's nice that there is an added element of violence with the fist. Watch out for these people. If you see them outside of a store, steer clear. They are not in tune with their actions and will most likely attack you. Maybe that's a bit of a stretch but don't say I didn't warn you.
Dear movie-going family
Dear family that sat two rows behind me,
I thoroughly enjoyed hearing you chow down on your hot dogs, chili nachos, titan-sized drinks, and popcorn during the film (afterall, this is TX and everything is bigger here including the people and appetites). I really hope that your goal is to make your son and daughter have heart attacks before they reach the age when they can procreate. That way my children won't have to have the same experience I'm sure their children will repeat. There's a reason that we say "dinner AND a movie" not "dinner AT the movie". I guess you don't find it strange biting into a nice juicy hot dog loaded with ketchup and mustard while someone is gushing blood from a neck wound on the big screen. You're just so hungry and disgusting that you want to promote your lifestyle for everyone around you. I thought that touching moment between the protagonist and his wife went well with the background crunching of nachos and the request from your wife for a napkin. At least she asked for a napkin.
Moral of the story:
I think I'm almost a reasonable person. I expect the usual sounds of people eating popcorn, shuffling noisy treats from a box of candy, trying to get the 2 last drops of your drink out with a straw. I don't expect you and your litter of children spending 15 minutes ordering your disgusting feast and then having to hear it for an hour and a half of my life. Since when did we decide that hotdogs and chili nachos were an acceptable movie-going snack? Not to mention the 2000 calorie mega drink? Many of us actually get to the theatre to see the coming attractions. When I get there 10-15 minutes early I expect to get a small or medium drink, maybe some popcorn if I'm with someone, or some candy and then enter the theatre to see the previews. I don't expect to wait for you, your wife, and your gaggle of morbidly-obese, annoying, spoiled, underage (for an R movie) children to pick the elements of your next heart attack.
I thoroughly enjoyed hearing you chow down on your hot dogs, chili nachos, titan-sized drinks, and popcorn during the film (afterall, this is TX and everything is bigger here including the people and appetites). I really hope that your goal is to make your son and daughter have heart attacks before they reach the age when they can procreate. That way my children won't have to have the same experience I'm sure their children will repeat. There's a reason that we say "dinner AND a movie" not "dinner AT the movie". I guess you don't find it strange biting into a nice juicy hot dog loaded with ketchup and mustard while someone is gushing blood from a neck wound on the big screen. You're just so hungry and disgusting that you want to promote your lifestyle for everyone around you. I thought that touching moment between the protagonist and his wife went well with the background crunching of nachos and the request from your wife for a napkin. At least she asked for a napkin.
Moral of the story:
I think I'm almost a reasonable person. I expect the usual sounds of people eating popcorn, shuffling noisy treats from a box of candy, trying to get the 2 last drops of your drink out with a straw. I don't expect you and your litter of children spending 15 minutes ordering your disgusting feast and then having to hear it for an hour and a half of my life. Since when did we decide that hotdogs and chili nachos were an acceptable movie-going snack? Not to mention the 2000 calorie mega drink? Many of us actually get to the theatre to see the coming attractions. When I get there 10-15 minutes early I expect to get a small or medium drink, maybe some popcorn if I'm with someone, or some candy and then enter the theatre to see the previews. I don't expect to wait for you, your wife, and your gaggle of morbidly-obese, annoying, spoiled, underage (for an R movie) children to pick the elements of your next heart attack.
Dear check-writing lady
Dear supermarket, 15-or-less aisle, check-writing lady,
the year is 2009. I know that may be a shock to you. In this great modern-age world we have something called debit cards. These are flimsy, plastic cards with a magnetic tape strip on them. Surprisingly, this little strip contains information linked to your bank account. I know, it's crazy. When you slide this plastic object through a device that can read the strip it transmits information from your bank account to the supermarket and vice-versa. This little piece of plastic allows you to purchase goods and services without writing a check. What a surprise!
Now let me explain what the 15 or less aisle at a supermarket is for. It's for people like me who have only a couple things to buy and would like to move through the lanes a bit faster. The supermarkets realized that having a dedicated aisle or aisles for people like me would make their trip to the supermarket a bit more enjoyable and time-effective. That was very nice of them!
Here comes you to throw a monkey wrench in the whole system. You decide to buy $8.36 worth of groceries and whip out your checkbook. It's held in a holster-like pouch in your purse just like a handgun. The only problem is that you can draw fast but pulling the trigger takes a little bit of time. Let's be honest, it's the pulling of the trigger that saves you time and not necessarily how fast you can draw. Were you writing the details such as payee, date, and signature before they read you your total? Of course not. Why would you be prepared? After all, you're the only human being on this earth other than the checkout person right? No one else is in a hurry.
So, you pull out your checkbook which contains very artistic checks. I recall they had some kind of nature scene or something. I know you enjoy staring at the pretty picture in a whimsical way for long periods of time admiring the artists rendition of a home on the prairie. Since it's only you and the casheir you want to make sure that the cashier also has a good look because only then will their lives be fulfilled and they'll find a sense of purpose to their normally meaningless life.
After the life-changing $8.36 total comes up on that magical device that shows what you bought, you start writing. Ever so slowly...you don't want to have to void a check if you mess up. That would be disastrous. Finally you hand over this magnificent artwork-esque check to the cashier and you're surprised that he doesn't immediately comment on how amazing the background scenery is and that out of all of the amazing backgrounds you could have chosen you chose this masterpiece. You obtain your receipt and take another 30 seconds to re-organize your purse...that quick draw did tumble a few things in there. You have to make sure you're all in order so you can hold up the next line you come upon.
Moral of the story:
If I had my gun I would've shot myself. Why not shoot her you ask? If I shoot her I'm just a nut on the news. If I shoot myself maybe there'll be an inquiry as to how a normally sane person is driven to suicide by moron check-writing people. Maybe then questions will be asked and we can round these people up. There are more out there.
The bigger moral is that it is 2009. Checks should be used, in my humble opinion, for large purchases. A down payment on a car, a down payment on a house, a TV with a custom surround sound system, bills. Even then, there's no real reason for checks anymore. You can't float them, as the transaction is now instant. If you have a bank account, and it's not called the "bank of the deserted plains where we don't issue debit cards", then they issue you a debit card. Use it, or face people like me who could snap.
the year is 2009. I know that may be a shock to you. In this great modern-age world we have something called debit cards. These are flimsy, plastic cards with a magnetic tape strip on them. Surprisingly, this little strip contains information linked to your bank account. I know, it's crazy. When you slide this plastic object through a device that can read the strip it transmits information from your bank account to the supermarket and vice-versa. This little piece of plastic allows you to purchase goods and services without writing a check. What a surprise!
Now let me explain what the 15 or less aisle at a supermarket is for. It's for people like me who have only a couple things to buy and would like to move through the lanes a bit faster. The supermarkets realized that having a dedicated aisle or aisles for people like me would make their trip to the supermarket a bit more enjoyable and time-effective. That was very nice of them!
Here comes you to throw a monkey wrench in the whole system. You decide to buy $8.36 worth of groceries and whip out your checkbook. It's held in a holster-like pouch in your purse just like a handgun. The only problem is that you can draw fast but pulling the trigger takes a little bit of time. Let's be honest, it's the pulling of the trigger that saves you time and not necessarily how fast you can draw. Were you writing the details such as payee, date, and signature before they read you your total? Of course not. Why would you be prepared? After all, you're the only human being on this earth other than the checkout person right? No one else is in a hurry.
So, you pull out your checkbook which contains very artistic checks. I recall they had some kind of nature scene or something. I know you enjoy staring at the pretty picture in a whimsical way for long periods of time admiring the artists rendition of a home on the prairie. Since it's only you and the casheir you want to make sure that the cashier also has a good look because only then will their lives be fulfilled and they'll find a sense of purpose to their normally meaningless life.
After the life-changing $8.36 total comes up on that magical device that shows what you bought, you start writing. Ever so slowly...you don't want to have to void a check if you mess up. That would be disastrous. Finally you hand over this magnificent artwork-esque check to the cashier and you're surprised that he doesn't immediately comment on how amazing the background scenery is and that out of all of the amazing backgrounds you could have chosen you chose this masterpiece. You obtain your receipt and take another 30 seconds to re-organize your purse...that quick draw did tumble a few things in there. You have to make sure you're all in order so you can hold up the next line you come upon.
Moral of the story:
If I had my gun I would've shot myself. Why not shoot her you ask? If I shoot her I'm just a nut on the news. If I shoot myself maybe there'll be an inquiry as to how a normally sane person is driven to suicide by moron check-writing people. Maybe then questions will be asked and we can round these people up. There are more out there.
The bigger moral is that it is 2009. Checks should be used, in my humble opinion, for large purchases. A down payment on a car, a down payment on a house, a TV with a custom surround sound system, bills. Even then, there's no real reason for checks anymore. You can't float them, as the transaction is now instant. If you have a bank account, and it's not called the "bank of the deserted plains where we don't issue debit cards", then they issue you a debit card. Use it, or face people like me who could snap.
Dear Rush Hour Bicyclist (aka Jackass or Darwin's Test Subject)
I can only assume that your cross-country trek at rush hour is to show all of us working folk how fitness conscious you are. I only assume that because only a moron would decide to ride a cross-country performance bicycle during rush hour on the main streets. I have to say, your nice tight speedo ass is just what I wanted to see as I was cruising at 45 mph to get to work in a business-zoned area and had to suddenly change lanes (because I'm a nice guy). You do realize that in the world of today you have a lot of balls to assume people will see you on your $2000 custom-made bicycle and change lanes. I am glad you're wearing a helmet though. I'm sure that'll cut down on injuries when you're hit from behind by a 2 ton vehicle travelling at 45 mph. At least you'll look fit at the wake, assuming there's anything left of you to view.
Here's an idea. Just throwing this one out there. Why not jog in place in your living room until about 9:30 and then take a ride? Actually, I guess that would cancel out your egotistical machinations. I do have to say, you do provide me with hours of fantastical fantasies about what I could do to you. I would just love to slow down, pull along side of you, smile and swerve. I don't want to hurt you (that much), just embarrass you as you hit the curb and fall down in front of all of those "crazies" that actually work. I know, that's a little mean but I have a lot of time on my hands to ponder life and natural selection. What really bugs me is that you probably get plenty of dates with those rugged good looks and toned body. If only the women you pander to knew that you were just what Darwin would tell them not to procreate with. I'm sure your children will end up getting struck by a car one day and you'll sue the driver. "How dare they drive a car on a road!" you'll think to yourself. I'm sure your egotistical nature will also ponder why someone would target your dear genius, beautiful, talented child. When, in fact, they did the world a favor. It'd get rid of a long line of jackasses...stop the gene pool now, that's my motto. You and your offspring probably wouldn't survive in any other century. Thanks to the modern state of consciousness (or unconsciousness, as it be) you're the top of the social chain. You're liberal and green and a recycling fanatic. You get a non-toxic tan and buy only recycled goods.
A warning to your other friends (you like to run in packs of like-minded idiots sometimes)...you make for a bigger target. I can swerve out of the lane for one, but when your idiot pack decides to go for a group ride it's like shooting fish in a barrel. Yeah, I may miss you but there's always that ultra-moron that straggles from the pack of bicyclists with a dumb look on their face that says "Hey! Look at me! I'm outside of the lane!" Next thing you know, your dumb pal hears the EMS people say "Yeah, this one here was showboating outside of the pack."
Moral: Buy a stationary bike jackasses...or, what a crazy idea, ride during NON-RUSH HOUR in a non-business zoned area.
Here's an idea. Just throwing this one out there. Why not jog in place in your living room until about 9:30 and then take a ride? Actually, I guess that would cancel out your egotistical machinations. I do have to say, you do provide me with hours of fantastical fantasies about what I could do to you. I would just love to slow down, pull along side of you, smile and swerve. I don't want to hurt you (that much), just embarrass you as you hit the curb and fall down in front of all of those "crazies" that actually work. I know, that's a little mean but I have a lot of time on my hands to ponder life and natural selection. What really bugs me is that you probably get plenty of dates with those rugged good looks and toned body. If only the women you pander to knew that you were just what Darwin would tell them not to procreate with. I'm sure your children will end up getting struck by a car one day and you'll sue the driver. "How dare they drive a car on a road!" you'll think to yourself. I'm sure your egotistical nature will also ponder why someone would target your dear genius, beautiful, talented child. When, in fact, they did the world a favor. It'd get rid of a long line of jackasses...stop the gene pool now, that's my motto. You and your offspring probably wouldn't survive in any other century. Thanks to the modern state of consciousness (or unconsciousness, as it be) you're the top of the social chain. You're liberal and green and a recycling fanatic. You get a non-toxic tan and buy only recycled goods.
A warning to your other friends (you like to run in packs of like-minded idiots sometimes)...you make for a bigger target. I can swerve out of the lane for one, but when your idiot pack decides to go for a group ride it's like shooting fish in a barrel. Yeah, I may miss you but there's always that ultra-moron that straggles from the pack of bicyclists with a dumb look on their face that says "Hey! Look at me! I'm outside of the lane!" Next thing you know, your dumb pal hears the EMS people say "Yeah, this one here was showboating outside of the pack."
Moral: Buy a stationary bike jackasses...or, what a crazy idea, ride during NON-RUSH HOUR in a non-business zoned area.
WTF People?
The Great Pyramids of Giza. The Roman Empire. Rome. Athens. The British Empire. The Great Wall of China. CVS.
Which one doesn’t fit? Where did the people whose genetics built the impressive cities, empires and monuments go? I doubt they were the ones that decided to add shopping carts to convenience stores.
Every time I go into a convenience store, I have to get in line behind 3 people with shopping carts packed full of groceries. Maybe I’m wrong, but I thought that CVS and Walgreens were for CONVENIENCE. Places where I could buy a few provisions and do so in an expeditious manner. I’m on my way home from work…crap, I forgot to get more shampoo. I know, I’ll go to CVS. That’ll be faster than going to the grocery store. Not anymore. Now CVS and Walgreens is filled with the same people you see in line at the DMV. I call these people woodwork people. They’re the ones that come out of the woodwork when you least expect them. They are the coupon clippers. They have an average of 5.3 children (2 times the normal amount) and usually live on the outskirts of society (see “Walmart”). They always have to bring their obnoxious, screaming 5.3 children who can ALWAYS be found in the candy area right in front of the freaking check out. They’re usually not chained up or on a leash. These DMV people allow their brood to wander around and cause general chaos. The kind of chaos that raises your blood pressure and kicks in the innate survival instinct. The screaming (usually in a foreign language) and activity harkens back to caveman days. I keep thinking that there’s a saber tooth tiger is entering my warm cave when these heathens get loose. Of course, the sperm and egg donor parent(s) pay no attention. They’re too busy trying to find that 5 cent coupon for their weekly toilet paper gross (surprised they even use it…the paper, that is).
These woodwork people are never in touch with modern society and technology. Just when you think their transaction is complete and they’re about to leave your personal space, out comes the damn checkbook. Checks? They should be used as a down payment for a house or car…not for a trip to CVS. Have they prepared ahead of time, knowing that their next check would be made out to CVS? Of course not. They want to impress everyone that they know how to write. Finally, the check is torn off and my inner soul is about to be calmed. Nope. Next, they have to check the receipt. Again, another way of impressing the rest of us normal people in line by proving they can read and do simple math. God forbid the poor high school student behind the counter missed a 7 cent coupon. These people will sniff that 7 cents out like a hound finds truffles. At this point I really just want to down the bottle of shampoo, hope that it was made in China with caustic materials, and pray for a quick death. I consider pouring the liquid in my eyes but that would only enhance my sense of hearing. My mind then travels to no-man’s land and I want to give this moron a dollar just to avoid the taste of the shampoo. I live in 2011, so I only carry my debit card. Shit. I finally get to the counter and spent a total of 10 seconds on my transaction. What I’m left with is a scar that affects all of my senses. I have a headache struggling to figure out what the hell just happened.
I blame CVS. Stop with the carts and stop with the coupons that apply only when you purchase a gross. If you want to be a discount shop, add more space and stop looking so time-friendly. If you don’t draw the woodwork people’s attention, they’ll stop bothering the rest of us. There should also be a “no kids allowed” sign. Remove the candy from in front of your registers as well. Whose dumb idea was that? I’d like to pay that individual a visit.
Which one doesn’t fit? Where did the people whose genetics built the impressive cities, empires and monuments go? I doubt they were the ones that decided to add shopping carts to convenience stores.
Every time I go into a convenience store, I have to get in line behind 3 people with shopping carts packed full of groceries. Maybe I’m wrong, but I thought that CVS and Walgreens were for CONVENIENCE. Places where I could buy a few provisions and do so in an expeditious manner. I’m on my way home from work…crap, I forgot to get more shampoo. I know, I’ll go to CVS. That’ll be faster than going to the grocery store. Not anymore. Now CVS and Walgreens is filled with the same people you see in line at the DMV. I call these people woodwork people. They’re the ones that come out of the woodwork when you least expect them. They are the coupon clippers. They have an average of 5.3 children (2 times the normal amount) and usually live on the outskirts of society (see “Walmart”). They always have to bring their obnoxious, screaming 5.3 children who can ALWAYS be found in the candy area right in front of the freaking check out. They’re usually not chained up or on a leash. These DMV people allow their brood to wander around and cause general chaos. The kind of chaos that raises your blood pressure and kicks in the innate survival instinct. The screaming (usually in a foreign language) and activity harkens back to caveman days. I keep thinking that there’s a saber tooth tiger is entering my warm cave when these heathens get loose. Of course, the sperm and egg donor parent(s) pay no attention. They’re too busy trying to find that 5 cent coupon for their weekly toilet paper gross (surprised they even use it…the paper, that is).
These woodwork people are never in touch with modern society and technology. Just when you think their transaction is complete and they’re about to leave your personal space, out comes the damn checkbook. Checks? They should be used as a down payment for a house or car…not for a trip to CVS. Have they prepared ahead of time, knowing that their next check would be made out to CVS? Of course not. They want to impress everyone that they know how to write. Finally, the check is torn off and my inner soul is about to be calmed. Nope. Next, they have to check the receipt. Again, another way of impressing the rest of us normal people in line by proving they can read and do simple math. God forbid the poor high school student behind the counter missed a 7 cent coupon. These people will sniff that 7 cents out like a hound finds truffles. At this point I really just want to down the bottle of shampoo, hope that it was made in China with caustic materials, and pray for a quick death. I consider pouring the liquid in my eyes but that would only enhance my sense of hearing. My mind then travels to no-man’s land and I want to give this moron a dollar just to avoid the taste of the shampoo. I live in 2011, so I only carry my debit card. Shit. I finally get to the counter and spent a total of 10 seconds on my transaction. What I’m left with is a scar that affects all of my senses. I have a headache struggling to figure out what the hell just happened.
I blame CVS. Stop with the carts and stop with the coupons that apply only when you purchase a gross. If you want to be a discount shop, add more space and stop looking so time-friendly. If you don’t draw the woodwork people’s attention, they’ll stop bothering the rest of us. There should also be a “no kids allowed” sign. Remove the candy from in front of your registers as well. Whose dumb idea was that? I’d like to pay that individual a visit.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)