Tuesday, July 24, 2012

LOTD Classic: 9 Commercial Mascots I Want To Pummel

Yes, pummel. I know, violence doesn't solve anything, but it sure makes me feel better.


Does a bear shit in the woods? Yes. Do I need to see it? No. We all know what TP is for; I don't need to see people or animals heading to/talking about/sitting on the crapper or lovingly rubbing their faces with TP. But no, the good folks at Charmin think that defecating bears are cute. They even named all the bears and gave them bios on their web page. That's messed up, yo. If they never saw a real bear taking a dump, they might change their minds.


The connection was tenuous from the start: an insurance company's name being confused with a lizard. Now it's just annoying. Oh yes, please let me buy car insurance from a talking lizard with a bad Michael-Caine-in-Alfie Cockney accent. Blimey, that's bleedin' yampy, guv'na! 


We're told that Jared Fogle lost 250 lbs eating Subway sandwiches. Right -- Subway sandwiches AND an assload of exercise, which tends to help with weight loss. Oh, and they forget to mention how Jared got so fat in the first place: from -- ready for this? -- EATING AT SUBWAY! Yep. Whatever -- he has the charisma of a dirt clod and creeps me out with those beady eyes.


Dogs have their own coats, so I always found it odd that McGruff wears a trench coat. Yeah, I know, he's supposed to be a detective, but the dude wears a trench coat and hangs out at playgrounds. That doesn't say detective to me. That says flasher. That's right -- McGruff is a goddamn flasher. "Hey kids, who wants to see my penal code?" 


If you don't live anywhere near a Six Flags theme park, you probably missed this dude. Lucky you. Meet "Mr. Six": a young, clearly athletic person dressed up as Uncle Junior from The Sopranos who likes to jump around and dance like somebody's great-grandpa who double-dosed his Haldol and Cialis. How exactly does a manic nonagenarian in a creepy mask and Swifty Lazar glasses sell tickets to amusement parks? He doesn't, and Six Flags has spent most of the decade in financial turmoil, closing some parks and selling off others.


Ya know, I've played in several bands with other aging men (hi, Spinderfella) and not once did we spontaneously break into song about erectile dysfunction or boner juice. WTF?! Guys don't sit around talking -- or singing -- about their peckers, unless it's a big circle-jerk or something. Come to think of it, that's exactly what this jam session is: a big circle-jerk with music.


Yes, I know, he's supposed to be creepy. Mission accomplished.


I prefer a syrup bottle that doesn't look like a person or talk (not to me, but I've seen her on TV). That way I don't feel like I'm removing the cap of her skull and pouring some Mrs. Butterworth mystery ooze all over my flapjacks. We've also never seen Mr. Butterworth, and that frightens me. I don't want to wake up in the night and find him standing over me with a machete because I sampled his wife's tasty nectar.


These spots stopped being funny about a month after they started -- which was what, 25 years ago? Sure feels like it. You can't really accuse this campaign of beating a dead horse, because the horse is long gone. So are his bones. You might find a wee bit of bone dust if look closely enough, but I doubt it.

Idiot Of The Day (vid)

Careful, woman, that first step is a doozy.

It's okay to laugh. She's fine and walks--yes, walks--away at the end. 

The Smoking Gun has a little more info if you're worried about this poor woman's health.

Faceptions Of The Day

I can't stop laughing at these. One face; lots of people. Which one is the original? Who cares? From WildAmmo.com.

See more here.

Caption This Photo Of The Day

Thanks, Robert McLeod.



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