I Hate Your Poorly Produced Commercial



Everyone has had that moment where they were halfheartedly watching TV and halfheartedly dicking around on the internet, but not really putting effort into either activity because you are too tired from listening to someone tell you how mediocre your work performance has been recently, and that you could be doing better work if you weren't so tired all the time, but to also remember that tomorrow there is a client breakfast and you need to be on the 5am train along with all the heroin addicts so you can have time to greet the non-English-speaking Japanese executives who have no fucking clue what you're saying, but still demand you entertain them for a minimum of four hours with stories about video game conquests and Hideki Matsui. And just as you slowly enter that deep, funky haze and your brain lets its guard down, lulling you into the land of zero-cognitive-thought, a commercial begins airing on the TV that is the decibel equivalent of someone holding an airhorn to your ear and blasting it for 75 minutes. These are local commercials, and they fucking SUCK.

Every network provides air-time for local commercials. This is the first place where we should direct our angry mob. I can't say that I understand the metrics and financial intuition behind local advertising as opposed to national advertising - one would assume that there is always more money in national commercial breaks - but what the fuck do I know? I'm just the asshole with the oil stains on his button-down and beaded sweat on his brow because someone called maintenance and fucking complained about it being too chilly in the office, so they shut off the air conditioner again and now I'm going to die of heat stroke.

ANYWAY...All local commercials are un-fucking-bearable to watch. Never has one been created that would be mistaken for anything other than a video filmed by a homeless man on crystal-meth. I'd rather watch a tiger cub get beaten to death with a monkey wrench. And all the commercials have video quality of a Vietnamese snuff film, and star awful-looking people that look like Jeffrey Dahmer during different stages of his murder/cannibalism career. Mustache/comb-over/mustache/horse-shoe-hairdo/goatee/mustache/mask made of someone's skin...

One of the worst parts about these train-wrecks is when a guy who looks about as funny as a child falling down a well pops up onscreen and tries to be funny, but fucking fails MISERABLY. They have the comedic timing of a corpse. And they all deserve a steel baton to the cock for making me uncomfortable in my own living room. Wucka-Wucka, look, you threw fake money in the air! Well, I hope it spontaneously combusts and sets your head on fire. THANKS FOR MAKING ME SQUIRM BECAUSE YOUR STARE IS UNWAVERING LIKE A MASS-MURDERER AND YOUR TOUPEE FUCKING SUCKS.

And when the camera inevitably scans the dumpsters that these guys use to hock their products, I get even more angry. Look at those dirty Hondas and Mazdas - holy shit do your cars suck. I bet you fucked a hooker in one of them, didn't you? Oh yeah, Mr. PleatedKhakis, do you really have the best and cheapest appliances in New Jersey? I'm sure you do, and I'm sure it's because you rummaged through foreclosed houses and salvaged the stoves of people who have been thrown out into the street and shot. Glad you're using blood money to buy your brat kids an undeserved new car for their sweet sixteen even though they are going to wrap it around a telephone pole in two weeks, asshole.

Nothing about your commercial is clever. My nephew can edit better, and he's two fucking months old. By the way, hire some actors, you cheap fuck, because your wife looks orange and your kids look like they're as smart as a toilet seat. I bet they get spit on at school because you forced them to be in your shitty commercial. When your son finally admits to you that he's dating a transvestite named Gustavo and your daughter swears to you for the 15th time that she's shut down the glory hole for good, maybe then you will realize the error of your ways.

The best part about local commercials is that I will never buy anything from any of these assholes, EVER. And my decision is based solely on a stupid commercial that their stupid fucking friend told them would help business. Guess what, buddy? Your commercial isn't helping business. Quite the opposite, actually. It just HURT your business. See these crisp Lincolns I'm holding? WELL YOU CAN FORGET EVER FEELING THEIR BEAUTIFUL TEXTURE IN THE PALM OF YOUR HAND!

If these guys had any self respect, they would pull their commercials off the air so they would stop showing up on my TV at a volume level meant for Helen Keller, buy some clothes that fit, get a new family that doesn't suck, and then torch their store while still inside of it.

No comments: