For the most part, Dr. Jon and I don't appreciate the finer things. He will (I swear to God) drink half a glass of milk and put the other half in the fridge for DAYS! And then drink the other half of the glass! And he makes fun of me because I will wear clothes literally out. Before he threw them out, I had a pair of black shoes where the sole detached so I used duct tape and the laces broke so I used the drawstring on my fat pants (because you don't need a drawstring on your fat pants). And we stay in most nights and eat too much cheap food and drink shitty off-brand pop with names like Dr. Zipper and Sproute. But the one thing we do not skimp out on, m'friends, is television.
Our tv is an embarrassment, the way that I'd imagine having super rich parents is embarrassing or admitting to getting your roots done every three days by a Polynesian woman whose house is the size of your garage. I mean it is a fancy-ass tv and it's the centrepiece of our apartment. I never thought I'd be that guy, I always pictured a bookshelf would be the focal point of where I would live, nothing so ostentatious and gauche as a television set. But here we are. When we moved, Jon shelled out $700 for our top of the line, flat-panel, hi-def tv. When I heard what he had done (I was still in the prairies, squinting at our old tv, he moved before I did), I feigned anger at him having spent that much, but inwardly rejoiced. It's a glorious machine. I wish I could tell you how big it was, but I can't calculate such things. I think the box said 37 inches or something, but wouldn't that make it a six foot tv? It's not that. I tried getting an exact measurement by walking paces in front of it with my dick in my hand but results were inconclusive.
We also have PVR, which means we can record shows to watch back later AND (this is the awesome part), fast-forward through all the commercials. This means when an announcer taunts, “Find out the results... after the break” that we can find out the results in SECONDS! Commercial-skipping is an amazing privilege, but not having commercials means that I miss all the commercials (duh), and consequently, learn nothing from them anymore. And I know most ads are insipid, unrealistic examples of greed and materialism in society, but without them, how would we know what flavour of Mini Wheats they have now? Or when The Brick was having a sale (seems like there's one EVERY DAY with these people!) There's a lot that can be learned from commercials besides products and dates, however, and I'm going to have to catalogue these findings lest I forget them forever thanks to a short attention s
Dream: Glean life lessons from tv commercials.
Goal: Achievable. Were it not for tv commercials, I wouldn't know that my hair needs both shampoo and conditioner, that the purple stuff in your fridge is often ignored in favour of Sunny D, and that women's eyelashes can be an unbelievable 33 percent fucking longer!
Plan: Write down what I have learned from tv ads in order to preserve it on the internet, a vast resource on unlimited space that will be around forever. Such nuggets as:
Blue liquid is an acceptable substitute for any liquid that can drop, seep, or gush out of a human. Blue liquid fills baby diapers, tests the absorbency of paper towels, and gets injected by a syringe into a sanitary napkin. That last one seems the most bizarre, but also the most necessary. I consider myself a progressive guy, and when the women of Jezebel.com write pieces about how ridiculous tampon and maxi pad commercials are, I sympathize and agree with them. But then they gleefully showed a print ad where the syringe filled with blue liquid was replaced by a small red dot at the centre of a maxi pad and, I'm embarrassed to say, I almost passed out. There was nothing wrong with it, but my reaction was so instantly and violently averse that I can see why blue liquid is as popular in ads as it is.
Sensitive teeth is the worst affliction to befall man. Not to get Seinfeldian but can you believe these people? “I bit into the ice cream cone and felt a sharp coldness, and... well, maybe tomorrow will be a better day.” You think I'm exaggerating but I swear to God there used to be an ad where somebody had an episode of sensitive teeth and said, “Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.” I don't mean to minimize people with genuine oral sensitivity, I guess it would be a real bummer, but don't we all have some degree of that anyway? I mean it's hard to just chug ice cold water or boiling hot tea without feeling that uncomfortable tooth zing but do we have to doubt tomorrow's existence as a better day? And if you bite into an ice cream cone (a treat traditionally licked) then you're a fucking moron anyway!
Speaking of fucking morons, old men like to have sex even when it's no longer a physical option for them. It really gets to me, those cutesy Viagra ads that are either inappropriately unfunny, like a guy skipping to work, or super creepy, like those old couples dancing or walking along a beach. That really kills me, the old couples. I'm not saying older folks don't deserve a satisfying sex life, of course they do, but imagine being with the same man for thirty years, you both age and grow comfortable with each other. Your sex life ebbs and flows and ebbs and flows until it tapers off, which you accept with some resignation, but then he starts taking these drugs that give him this filthy old man boner that you're just expected to deal with! And isn't it scary that arousal can just be chemically created? A process that once involved romance and sensuality, or even just titillation and pornography, either way both methods involved intense mind-body connection that apparently, we don't even need. And yes, I suppose people can use whatever means they'd like if they have an unsatisfying sex life, but you know who else I heard has an unsatisfying sex life? Everyone!
Blankets are better with sleeves. I had a life before my Snuggie, but I don't like to think about it. Sometimes I would be cold, so I would put a blanket on, but then I'd want to hold stuff, and... and I just couldn't! It's like my arms were trapped somehow and... I can't go on. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
Bears use toilet paper.
You can have just cereal for breakfast, but if you don't have it with two pieces of toast and a glass of orange juice, you're not having a complete breakfast.
If you make frozen pizza, people will think you had pizza delivered to your house. If you correct them, they will often not believe you and ask again.
Women can't drive cars, but they can sit in the passenger seat sexily while their husbands shift gears or drive along a wet street at night.
Beyonce, Gwen Stefani, and Sarah Jessica Parker all get their hair colour from a box which costs seven dollars.
If you don't install an alarm system, you or a loved one will be murdered in your home tonight.
If you come home to find your loved one dead, spray a fabric refreshing spray or air freshener, and blindfold yourself. You will forget there is a corpse in your living room and think you are in a meadow.
Beer turns men into heroes and women into sluts.
If you eat a cookie, you are “indulging.” If you eat some ice cream you're being “naughty.” If you are fat, you are lacking in self-control, discipline, and intelligence.
Patrick took out life insurance.
Advertising makes a sport of manipulation in which we all participate. We can pretend, claim, and even believe we are not swayed by tv commercials, but when we go to the store and we see two competing products side by side on the shelf, we have to pick one over the other. If we do not automatically choose the cheapest one, we are banking on the idea of a perceived quality, which is an impression we get, like it or not, from those damn interruptions to our shows.
Really the thing I secretly love about commercials is the one thing they all have in common: without this product, your life is incomplete, but with it, you will be forever content. The more clear cut they make this idea, the happier I am. I love those black and white Rice Krispies commercials where a bratty kid is soothed by a cereal blended with marshmallows, or the smug satisfaction of the woman whose clothes, sheets and towels smell so fresh because she just washed them... five days ago! Because the message is, total contentment is possible. Happiness is attainable and just around the corner, as long as you pick this up next time you're at the store. Your life is good now, but it could be perfect! We'll tell you how... after the break.