I'm on a roll! To continue my "Things on TV I Want to Physically Hurt, Then Shit On" series, I'd like to expand my musings beyond brain hemorrhage causing jingle jangle commercial jingles. Yes, once they get into your head, you'll cut your own ears off to be free of the pain. But, we can do without ears. You tell me what the shit in this world is really worth listening too. Don't give me that artsy fartsy answer of "music." I love Alice In Chains just as much as Ren and Tresckow, but I would sacrifice hearing some of the best heroine and death oriented lyrics in the known universe if it meant no more shit grinning jingles.
Sure, Vincent van Gogh was batshit insane, but maybe there was a method to his madness.He would only have to hear 50% of these ear canal rotting songs.
Our eyes, ladies and gentlemen... what would we be without our eyes? We would bump into shit constantly, be unable to watch Sons of Anarchy, and would miss out on some serious eye candy during the summer months.
Seriously, if I couldn't enjoy sights like this, I might as well be dead.
What the shit was I saying? That's right. There's a more sinister force out there that knows where you live and can get to you anytime it wants. It comes disguised as sequential images of douche bag wanna be celebrities, chefs, and (not enough) Hayden Panettiere.
Trust me. This Canadian is saluting the red, white, and blue.
Seriously, if I couldn't enjoy sights like this, I might as well be dead.*Note: If you are blind and offended by my statement... No. Forget it. What the fuck are you doing on the web in the first place. This shit doesn't come in Braille.Why would anyone even consider plucking out their own eyes? Seeing your parents bumping uglies on the kitchen table? Getting a glimpse of ANY man in a speedo? Well, yeah. But, what are the odds of that shit happening. Eh, the speedo thing plaques Europe, I'll give you that. However, there is a more sinister force that penetrates your inner sanctum like Michael Jackson... NO. Not this week. I'm nixing all MJ jokes from this damn column.
What the shit was I saying? That's right. There's a more sinister force out there that knows where you live and can get to you anytime it wants. It comes disguised as sequential images of douche bag wanna be celebrities, chefs, and (not enough) Hayden Panettiere.
Trust me. This Canadian is saluting the red, white, and blue. Television provides another conduit for ass hair pulling, fucktarded bullshit devised to drive you tin foil hat wearing insane. What am I talking about now? Mascots. Company mascots, spokes people, whatever you want to call them, are an outright assault on all things ocular. Sonsabitches are everywhere. No matter where you flip to, there's always another one of those shit painting jackasses prancing around on TV. We want them to be deported to concentration camps. Admit it. I know you're thinking about it every time you see another asshat doing cart wheels for Vagisil. Shit like...
Burger King: The "King"
You know what's a brilliant advertising idea? Give up? How about creating a mascot that embodies every viewer's childhood fears? Smooth job, Burger King. You fuckers are making sandwiches without bread.
What is this thing supposed to communicate? It's sure as hell isn't the flame broiled taste of a grill kissed bacon cheeseburger. Using a stone faced, silent, pantsless creep with all the charm of a rapist doesn't quite hit the mark. The King is there, watching some dude sleep. He's there at some chick's bedroom window. The fucker is shoving his hand into random people's pants pockets on the street. Right, he's "giving money back." I'm sure it has nothing to do with copping a feel on an unsuspecting pedestrian's junk.
The King's next step to deflower Whopper "virgins."
Geico: Kash
While we're on the subject of outright nonsensical bullshit, let's devote some time to this bugged eyed, Mysto & Pizzi jamming motherfucker. Why, it's the money you could be saving with Geico! You asshole! That's cash you could have spent on porn, Quaaludes, or a hooker (sometimes the three come as a package).
This is another creepy bastard that just stares. It doesn't say anything, it's an inanimate stack of filthy 5 dollar bills. What the fuck does it want? So what? You opted for State Farm instead of Geico. Does that mean you're going to be haunted by this googly eyed prick until you switch? Here's an idea, pick the fucker up, rip his eyes off, and hit a strip club. Tear him apart, one bill at a time and cram them in a stripper's g-string. Now THAT makes financial sense!
Pictured: A much better investment than GM.
Geico: Cavemen
Geico is such a mascot shit generator, I had to put it on the list twice. I was on board the Geico caveman commercials in the beginning. They were short, funny, and semi witty. But, just like everything else on TV, the Man had to bludgeon our skulls with a once good thing. These mop heads are almost as tired and played out as Paris Hilton. Or, pretty much anything on the E! network (except The Soup, although McHale's NBC show sucks a massive amount of slug sphincter).
When did it all go downhill? The commercials were still bearable until around 2007. Shit, I was still drinking the Neanderthal kool aid when they launched their own micro site. Then, the executives had to piss all over it. They threw the caveman concept down on the ground, unzipped, and rained yellow all over its parade. You know what I'm talking about. This piece of rotting warthog shit: the TV series. I knew this was going to be the death knell for the whole concept. What made the commercials work was the quick timing and brevity. Stretch out that concept for a full 22 minutes and you have a televised suicide note. It redefined bad and not in the "so bad it's good" way. This was Teddy Z bad. OK, some of you children may not get that reference. How about this one? The show was "Jay Leno Show" bad.
Above: A crime against humanity.
Aflac: The Aflac Duck
How do you move insurance? Dub one of the most annoying voices in the history of mankind over a duck. I don't have anything against the duck, per say. I like ducks. Ducks are fine. I guess this is more of a hatred for Gilbert Gottfried.
Wikipedia identifies his "distinctively loud, obnoxious, rasping, grating voice" as a trademark. OK, fine. If that's the case, then sufferating pustules are the Bubonic Plague's tradmark. Barbed wire and zyclon b are Germany's. While we're at it, we can say male on male rape to banjo music is the trademark of the US South. No? Those aren't trademarks? Just because something's associated someone, object, or country doesn't necessarily mean it's a trademark. It just means Godfrey's act is a big old pile of annoying smothered in shit sauce. I wish that fucking duck would peck your larynx out.
Six Flags: Mr. Six
Take a good, long look at this fucker. That's right, take it all in. We don't even have a Six Flags within a thousand mile radius of here. But, that doesn't stop those corporate ass cracks from barraging us with this creepy, latex laden, fake geriatric ball buster.
Mr. Six, as they call him, dances like a scary epileptic patient to shitty Euro-trash pop music. If that wasn't enough, they gave the asshole his own bus to, apparently, roam around the country and pick up children. I wonder if this guy hangs out with the King. Jesus, now I feel unclean.
It's no wonder why these dill holes have gone bankrupt. Hey! Assholes! Your mascot is freaking everybody the fuck out! What the hell is wrong with you? You would have a better chance of dragging people to your playground of death if you advertised all the random animal attacks and appendage severing incidents.
I just don't have the words.
Sincerely,
Roode
Burger King: The "King"
You know what's a brilliant advertising idea? Give up? How about creating a mascot that embodies every viewer's childhood fears? Smooth job, Burger King. You fuckers are making sandwiches without bread.What is this thing supposed to communicate? It's sure as hell isn't the flame broiled taste of a grill kissed bacon cheeseburger. Using a stone faced, silent, pantsless creep with all the charm of a rapist doesn't quite hit the mark. The King is there, watching some dude sleep. He's there at some chick's bedroom window. The fucker is shoving his hand into random people's pants pockets on the street. Right, he's "giving money back." I'm sure it has nothing to do with copping a feel on an unsuspecting pedestrian's junk.
The King's next step to deflower Whopper "virgins." 
While we're on the subject of outright nonsensical bullshit, let's devote some time to this bugged eyed, Mysto & Pizzi jamming motherfucker. Why, it's the money you could be saving with Geico! You asshole! That's cash you could have spent on porn, Quaaludes, or a hooker (sometimes the three come as a package).This is another creepy bastard that just stares. It doesn't say anything, it's an inanimate stack of filthy 5 dollar bills. What the fuck does it want? So what? You opted for State Farm instead of Geico. Does that mean you're going to be haunted by this googly eyed prick until you switch? Here's an idea, pick the fucker up, rip his eyes off, and hit a strip club. Tear him apart, one bill at a time and cram them in a stripper's g-string. Now THAT makes financial sense!
Pictured: A much better investment than GM.
Geico is such a mascot shit generator, I had to put it on the list twice. I was on board the Geico caveman commercials in the beginning. They were short, funny, and semi witty. But, just like everything else on TV, the Man had to bludgeon our skulls with a once good thing. These mop heads are almost as tired and played out as Paris Hilton. Or, pretty much anything on the E! network (except The Soup, although McHale's NBC show sucks a massive amount of slug sphincter).When did it all go downhill? The commercials were still bearable until around 2007. Shit, I was still drinking the Neanderthal kool aid when they launched their own micro site. Then, the executives had to piss all over it. They threw the caveman concept down on the ground, unzipped, and rained yellow all over its parade. You know what I'm talking about. This piece of rotting warthog shit: the TV series. I knew this was going to be the death knell for the whole concept. What made the commercials work was the quick timing and brevity. Stretch out that concept for a full 22 minutes and you have a televised suicide note. It redefined bad and not in the "so bad it's good" way. This was Teddy Z bad. OK, some of you children may not get that reference. How about this one? The show was "Jay Leno Show" bad.
Above: A crime against humanity.
How do you move insurance? Dub one of the most annoying voices in the history of mankind over a duck. I don't have anything against the duck, per say. I like ducks. Ducks are fine. I guess this is more of a hatred for Gilbert Gottfried.Wikipedia identifies his "distinctively loud, obnoxious, rasping, grating voice" as a trademark. OK, fine. If that's the case, then sufferating pustules are the Bubonic Plague's tradmark. Barbed wire and zyclon b are Germany's. While we're at it, we can say male on male rape to banjo music is the trademark of the US South. No? Those aren't trademarks? Just because something's associated someone, object, or country doesn't necessarily mean it's a trademark. It just means Godfrey's act is a big old pile of annoying smothered in shit sauce. I wish that fucking duck would peck your larynx out.
Six Flags: Mr. Six
Take a good, long look at this fucker. That's right, take it all in. We don't even have a Six Flags within a thousand mile radius of here. But, that doesn't stop those corporate ass cracks from barraging us with this creepy, latex laden, fake geriatric ball buster.Mr. Six, as they call him, dances like a scary epileptic patient to shitty Euro-trash pop music. If that wasn't enough, they gave the asshole his own bus to, apparently, roam around the country and pick up children. I wonder if this guy hangs out with the King. Jesus, now I feel unclean.
It's no wonder why these dill holes have gone bankrupt. Hey! Assholes! Your mascot is freaking everybody the fuck out! What the hell is wrong with you? You would have a better chance of dragging people to your playground of death if you advertised all the random animal attacks and appendage severing incidents.
I just don't have the words.Sincerely,
Roode
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