Buy Now, Get One Free!

You can tell the ideals of a nation by its advertisements.
-Norman Douglas, South Wind, 1917

Yes, yes, here I am once more with angry rantings about something or other. Before you brush me off completely, can everyone who's sick and tired of advertisements please raise their hands? I don't care if it's television, radio, newspaper, mail, or the newest additions to the advertisement world: e-mail spam and pop-up ads.

Well, if you're sitting there with your hand up, you ... must feel pretty silly right about now. However, you're also one of the hundreds of thousands that are sick and tired of the constant barrage of images, words and catchy tunes that are designed to get you to buy their shit.

I submit to you that the advertisement industry (they have their own industry!) is not just inconsiderate, they are also malicious, and more recently they've also grown incredibly lazy and repetitive. On the radio today I heard one of the ads for the "Quit Smoking NOW!" crap that we smokers are so tired of hearing (we know it's bad for us, fuck off). They talk about the smoking increasing risk of heart related illness, blah blah blah ... then they say "think about the TV ad where they show the aorta of a 30 year old smoker, clogged with fatty deposits." What!? Now the radio ad creators are too lazy and/or stupid to come up with their own ads, they have to reference advrrtisement on TV instead? And we're not even talking about some random crap they want you to buy, we're talking about something that they should consider to be somewhat important -- people's general health. But no, the days of even simple copy and paste are gone, now we're moving into hyperlink advertisement.

Now, regarding some of the crap they advertise for ... no-fat, low-fat, diet, light, "lite," no-carb, all natural, now in a convenient, easy to open 2-ply container, wholesome, home made, batteries and flavor not included, lose weight with this powerful supplement, much too powerful for the casual dieter, to ease your pain and suffering, call now and get not just one super swiffer, but TWO, as well as this battery operated, remote controlled key chain pocket knife with built in radio and watch!

There used to be a time when advertisements had a simple message: "We have a product you need, come and buy it now." However, the retail industry saturated the market of common household goods, and they had to come up with "new and improved" merchandise which we don't want and don't need ... then they have to make a want and a need for it. How? By making you feel like absolute shit for not buying and using those products. If you don't, you're not only a bad parent, you're a bad co-worker, a bad American, and a lazy, fat slob who may not deserve to walk the same streets as the average Joe out there. However, you can certainly change all that by buying this new and fantastic piece of shit that you not only didn't know existed, but you also didn't know you can not live without!

Regarding TV ads ... for those of you, like me, with cable, are you tired of interrupted broadcasting? By interrupted I mean, of course, commercials. Try timing the commercials one day during your favorite "1 hour" show and see just how much of your show is being eaten up by "Buy this! NOW!" Now, last I checked I had to pay for cable. I'm paying to see advertisements. I repeat: I am paying hard earned money to give millionaires more face time with me so that they can convince me to sell their products. How fucking ridiculous is that? I thought it was supposed to be the other way around! I pay for shows, and if I can't pay for shows then I watch stuff that has commercials, and the companies for which there is advertisement pay for my shows. Makes perfect sense to me! However, for some screwed up reason it's not how it's supposed to work, I guess.

Have you also noticed how annoying ads are not just becoming more commonly used, they're actually becoming the norm? Sure we all remember "Crazy Ed's Crazy Car Sales Week!" where you could buy top-of-the-line automobiles for a low-low price! You know, Crazy Ed with his Einstein hairdo screams at the top of his lungs and really puts on a decent performance, making you think "This guy really is a nutcase, I bet I could totally cheat him and get away with a decent vehicle, and he'd never even know!" Yeah, we remember such things ... but now commercials are getting more and more annoying and stupid. Not only that, as a white male ages 18-48 I have found out that my business is really not wanted nor needed by McDonald, Burger King, Pepsi or Pay Less Shoes. 95% of the ads I see from them anymore appeal to urban black gangsta' hip-hoppin' pimp daddies, and make my skin crawl. Had I been a black urbanite I'd be pretty pissed at this point. I'd raise my fist in anger and yell, "Go bother cracker whitey, I don't want your cold ass burgers and fries!" Seriously, Commercialites, haven't we already caused enough pain to our black brothers through the centuries? Do you have to try and shove your shit in their faces now? Is that supposed to make things better? Please, put down the keyboard and get a real job, huh?

Do you remember back in the day when commercials were referred to as "potty breaks"? Sure, you can't sit there for 2 hours straight without getting up to go to the bathroom, get something more to drink, maybe grab a snack every 20-25 minutes ... commercials now appear every 5 minutes! I don't need to piss that fucking often, people! Thanks to commercials, I'm afraid to even drink tap water!

So here I am, paying to see shows that are interrupted every 5 minutes by quality merchandise (they don't mention that kind of quality, now do they?) that I don't want to buy, and I discover a third layer to the advertisement scheme. This one is built right into the show itself ... logos for the stuff that you just got done watching in the commercials are appearing all over the place! Hidden little taglines and unmistakable slogans litter daytime television. Get the fuck out of my Smallville and back to your own designated 30 second slots!

You want good advertisement? You want real advertisement? Make a product that doesn't fucking suck! There's advertisement for you, it comes with the package, and you don't need to hire a fucking PR firm to sell it!

Can you hear me now? FUCK OFF, I DON'T NEED A CELL PHONE!

Wash Those Hands!

Cleanliness and order are not matters of instinct; they are matters of education, and like most great things, you must cultivate a taste for them.

-Benjamin Disraeli (1804 - 1881)

Okay, I'm disgusted with my fellow man. I say man, because I mean male. I am speaking of bathroom hygiene here, so I wouldn't really know about women -- someone else will have to fill us in on that one.

I'm in the bathroom, and I won't bother you with details as to why, but that is my general location. Some male person comes in to use the bathroom, I hear him use the urinal, then leave. What I don't hear, however, are two sounds: flushing and handwashing. I work in a callcenter in which we deal with internet issues, thus I expect that your average Joe in this place is a little above the average factory worker Joe -- a generalization on my part, I understand, but I'm human, and thus can't help it. The irony (which is not lost on me) is, of course, that my co-worker "above average Joe" people are, in fact, just a bunch of slobs. Allow me to amend that ... a bunch of disgusting slobs. The bathroom at my place of employment is, in fact, in a worse state than a lot of public restrooms I've had the unfortunate privilege of visiting.

Every time I notice someone not washing their hands after going to the bathroom, regardless of what they were there to dispose of, it makes me feel sick, and it gives me superpowers. These unwished for superpowers grant me super-human vision, vision which allows me to see germs on the sink and faucet, on the very walls, and on that dreaded door handle which one must touch in order to escape this bog of fecal matter and bacteria -- this breeding ground of toxicity. It gets almost to the point where I wonder to myself, "why do I even wash my hands?" But no, something within me, something learned as a small child, tells me that to not wash my hands would be wrong.

I have often wondered what might lead someone to get Spermatophobia (it doesn't mean what you think it does, gutter mind, it's a very strong form of fear of germs. Germ-o-phobia, if that makes more sense to you -- think Howard Hughes). I'm starting to understand.

My plea to my fellow man ...

If your dick is too short to aim with, use the fucking urinal. If you're shy, use a stall, but lift the fucking seat! Trust me, no one wants to put their ass in contact with your piss. If lifting the seat is beyond your skill level, take a seat. Fact: it doesn't make you a lesser man - you already were.

There's no "l" in "pubic" hairs, so don't leave them anywhere in restrooms used by anyone other than you. We don't care what you do at home -- you may strew your crab ridden weenie whiskers all over your kitchen if that's what strokes your fancy, but in public we have neither want nor need for them.

WASH YOUR FUCKING HANDS! Plague rats gag at the stuff you do, then scurry away! We're not asking you to wear latex gloves every time you touch your wang, just use some soap and water!

FLUSH! I understand that the concept of pushing a button or handle is a daunting task indeed, or god forbid you should have to take advanced potty training and learn how to pull a fucking chain (remember those? Yeah, good old days -- don't see them anymore except in prison movies). I understand that in these modern times of self flushing toilets such manual labor must seem like true drudgery.

Be a pal, chum, and help put the "toil" back in "toilet," will you?

Thanks,

-Pissed off potty patron.

Disclaimer: All puns are intended, fucking deal with it.

The Customer is Always Right

Before you continue to read, you should know my background ... I am a Tech. Support Team Leader for an internet provider. Every day we deal with customers who literally don't know how to operate a computer, and blames everything that happens in their lives on us. While the occasional good story comes out of it, it's mostly annoying.

Now, to talk about the customer is always right ... believe it or not, I actually agree. I understand that the computer industry, and in particular the internet, is new and confusing -- especially to the senior part of the population -- and I can't really blame them. I equate their situation to my own when I'm standing in front of my car, looking under the hood. I'm fearful every time my car makes a noise that I don't believe it's supposed to make.

However, the average customer out there doesn't deal with the internet, they deal with simple purchases -- groceries, electronic equipment, gas bills, etc. Would it be presumptuous of me to wager hard cash that each and every one of you that is reading this has, at some point, dealt with a rude "customer service" person. It could be a cashier, a CS rep. from your cable company, or whatever, but at some point in your life -- probably more recently -- you have had this happen to you?

Now, I was born in the mid 70's, thus not quite old enough to "reminisce" about the olden days of yore ... but then why do I feel so old? Because I do remember the olden days, when people were polite and nice. I'm not even talking about people that get paid to help you, but just your average Joe holding the door for you as you enter the local grocery store. Now it's impossible to get a person to help you buy shit. Seriously, I walk into a store to spend a few hundred bucks on something I don't really need, and Mr. Hourly-Wage-Employee is too busy thumbing his own anus to do his fucking job.

Say, hypothetically, that you are a customer of a company -- you have elected to spend your hard earned cash on something that you could have gotten in 37 other places within 5 minutes driving distance. Now, say that this product you appropriate is found to be faulty. What do you do? You return to the location at which you procured this wonderful piece of K9 feces and ask for a replacement -- or, god forbid, a refund -- the Smock Peon, who's still struggling to get his GED by collecting enough Coco Puffs box tops, has the fucking audacity to give you the look. You know the look I'm talking about ... the look that says, "I think you're trying to cheat this company, Sir." Yes, kid, that's right, asswad. I bought the toaster oven, accidentally dropped it in a vat of ant piss that I've been collecting as part of my diabolical plan to take over the alpha quadrant, which corroded a wire to one of the capacitators, and now I want to screw you over by demanding a replacement. I'm sorry, did I interrupt your droning your way through this month's edition of Paintball Magazine?

True Example: I go to the local Pep Boys store to pick up a battery booster for my car. It's the middle of winter, so they're in high demand, and the only one they have that's not industrial size (enough to jump start a small country) is in a box with the top ripped off. The smock monkey tells me that it's a former display item, but it works just fine, I just have to charge it. Fine, I take it, pay full price, go home and charge it. As expected, my car doesn't start up the next morning because the battery is about as full of energy as John Kerry's campaign. I hook up the booster, and what do you know ... it doesn't work. I call my mechanic, a very understanding man who knows good customer relations, goes well above and beyond, and comes to give me a jump. Just to verify that I'm not the bumbling idiot that I think myself to be, he tests my booster, then his own ... his works, mine doesn't.

Thus, I lose a day of work, get a new battery, then head over to Pep Boys for my refund. The pimple faced smock schmuck stationed to assist paying customers stares back at me blankly and simply says, "We don't do refunds." At this point I'm baffled, and say "You don't what?" He mumbles, "We don't do refunds." I explain that they sold me merchandise that I relied on to function, and because of that mistake I'm losing a day of work, and I wish to return the merchandise in question for a full refund. He says he can't. Their policy doesn't allow them to do refunds. So, I do what any sane person would ... I ask for the supervisor. The kid says, "You mean manager?" After another few minutes of him trying to convince me that I'm on a hopeless quest, he finally scuttles off to find the person in charge of this establishment. The manager (henceforth known as boyager) comes out, probably the same age as the first kid (i.e., he couldn't buy beer even if he had valid ID showing him to be 21 years of age). I explain the situation to this child instead, and he gives me the same bullshit line.

To make a long story short, I argue with the boyager, ask him if they make their money by selling defunct equipment, then forcing the customer to spend two or three times the original amount? Eventually (after he tried to give me in-store credit ... are you fucking kidding me??) I walk out with my money. Victory was mine, I had slain my enemy! At least, I wish I had.

I miss the good old days. I can't define one specific thing that does it, but people were just nicer. What caused it? I could probably come up with a 64 page analasys, but I won't waste either of our times with that ... suffice it to say, things are just getting worse, and the only thing I can do is give the best service I can; something that gets increasingly difficult, because the average consumer expects me to screw them over and give them bad service, because that's the norm.

Good Times

Have you ever sat back and pondered the good old days of yore, remembering really happy moments of your life? Hot chocolate in front of a fireplace, wrapped in a warm blanket, and the sounds of christmas tunes crackling on the radio? Working in the earth apple mines of the fatherland as a child? Breaking out of one of the many midget slave labour camps of Toronto? Shaving your first cat! Ah, yes, it's the memory of such things -- the anticipation of such things still to come -- that keeps me going day by day.

This little trip down memory lane brought to you by NyQuil and Sudafed ... and just a friendly reminder that these two really should not be mixed .... with alcohol.