I’m not really sure what the appeal is with this next pet peeve, but I am about fed up with flipping through magazines and seeing advertisements with models in midair as if to say that you’ll be part of some elite flying society of pretty preppy people for buying their clothes. Everywhere I look; it’s an athlete, an actress, a dancer, a fucking baby suspended in air like they took Willy Wonka’s fizzy lifting drink. We are not a kingdom of winged animals, fairies, or wizards with powers of levitation. Are they trying to convince me that these clothes make you feel weightless? What in the hell does that even mean?
While we’re at it, can someone please put a bullet in that SubWay jack ass Jared? Not only do I have to see him on TV with his pants that are big enough to be a parachute for a hippo, but now I have the eye-raping pleasure of seeing his former fat ass with no personality in my beloved magazines doing Got Milk ads. What ever happened to real celebrities? Did they stop drinking milk? Is everybody sucking on the soy titty now?
I also can’t stand men’s cologne ads, particularly the ones by the company whose name starts with a “D” and sounds like “Weasel”. Now, I’m not sure exactly who they think is buying their hog piss toilet water, but rest assured, having sweaty half naked men with poorly contrived attempts at seduction on the page is not making me rush out to buy any. What ever happened to spraying a little bit in a neatly folded flap and letting us get a whiff? At the very least, put a damn girl in the picture. We’ll more readily believe cologne will help us get her than make us look like Tom Brady.
One more thing I need to get off my chest during this blood boiling rhetoric is American Idol. More specifically, the necessity to stretch an elimination day into an hour long show. They do this by making the persons being sent home sing the song they sang the night before, that made people want for them to be sent home to begin with. I have two problems with this: 1) I have to hear them butcher the song again with another pain staking performance reminding me why I hated them so much and 2) the last thing I’m sure they want to do is have to keep their composure while singing a song after hearing the news that 20 million people think they suck and would rather eat fire than have to hear them sing anymore. If Ryan asked me to sing after being cut, I would tell him to shove that microphone where I'm sure he likes it.
I have a few more gripes, but I’m getting a little tired . . . . . So, same time tomorrow?