Package That in Your Madison Avenue Briefcase

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advertising, crap I learned, Humor, life in the foothills, stupid products

I have a bone stuck in my craw. Trouble is, where the craw is eludes me. And the bone ain’t with you, but you are damn sure gonna listen. Do read on!

For the umpteenth time, I’ve been advised by the earth movers that pass as the intelligentsia of Madison Avenue, that I am dumb as dirt and too stupid to bother existing.

Let me ‘splain Lucy.

I recognize that I am from the cave-keeping days, when *gasp* one actually purchased an onion and cut it into dice (not with the numbers dummy), and cooked it. I didn’t get it out of the freezer section and measure out 1/2 cup into the pan. I realize that. But really. Just how lazy do you think I am?

You used to go to the grocery story and pick out some potatoes and proceed to buy them. Now they come in 5, 10 and 20 lb bags. If the recipe calls for 2 lbs of potatoes, I have no idea on the face of Pluto what that is. I have to run a few potatoes into the bathroom and throw them on the scales? I mean surely you jest!

I used to have the common sense of a cow so it was assumed that I could manage to figure out how many carrots I needed when I shopped. Then some bright farmer decided to bundle them into a new thing called a “bunch”. Maybe you know how many carrots are in a bunch, but my scale is busy weighing potatoes and I don’t have time to count them. Is is a dozen? Or a pound? DO YOU KNOW? — I thought not.

Speaking of dozen, who the hell decided that I wanted eggs by the twelve, or by the eighteen? Nobody asked me. I checked my diaries since the age of sixteen, and there are no references to being asked about this.

Whose the numbers guy who decided all this stuff? It’s harder and harder to be allowed to purchase four turnips you know. They put them in fives and cover them with plastic wrap. Like I can’t get through that crap? They put my grapes in a ziplock bag, and I just this morning, in full view of every other shopper and God herself, opened it and extracted a whole bunch and laid them gently on the display, zipping up my lighter bag and marching off. No alarms, and no police followed me home.

Apparently it’s not okay to put mayo on my hamburger bun (when I choose to have lettuce on my burger) and then draw a smiley face with mustard. No I must BUY some pre-mixed concoction called Djo-nnaise, where somebody way smarter than I has figured out what the perfect ratio of mayo to mustard is. How the hell I have ever mixed the dressing of you-guessed it, mayo-mustard for my to-die-for potato salad is beyond me and the Muses.

I can’t be trusted around cheese either. I’m offered all manner of grated cheese in every flavor, and sometimes mixed together in “premium” offerings. It would be horrifying and would no doubt ruin the dish should I get three shreds more of cheddar than Monterey Jack in my own eyeballing method of shredding.

Oh I know, there is someone even older than I who is crying about how they used to make their own catsup and dill pickles and so on, and so forth, but I’m not trying to be difficult here. Those are reasonable to find ready done at the store. “Mexican blend” is, well just an East Coast innovation to help Brooklynites THINK they are eating some authentic “Mexican” when of course any fool knows that there is actually Mexican cheese that is actually authentic.

Well, I saw a new one the other day, and you may have seen it too. Now Land-o-Lakes wants me to buy their butter in honking chunks with seasonings already in it, so you don’t have to actually buy any herbs or spices, but you can just melt them into your pan and throw your piece of steroid rich chicken breast on top where it will meld into the flesh, seared there until the planet is incinerated in its last gasp before being swallowed by Mother Sun in an incestuous firestorm of eating one’s own.

See, it really is not so much that they think that I’m incapable of deciding on which herbs and spices I want on my skinny chicken flesh. It’s not that, though I can appreciate their snooty, nose in the stratosphere unbelievably gaudy display of wretched excess. No it’s not that. It’s the fact that they think that I am so unthinkingly stupid that I will actually pay them to tell me that I am this stupid that I need their in-your-face slap at my self-esteem.

For this is the bottom line here folks. For all this “time-saving” help they want me to pay a premium price! Here stupid, buy this and pay through the nose too! I mean that is so many insults heaped upon one person, that they should weigh more than enough to sink through the planet and plop out the other side faster than any of those sub-atomic particles that allegedly sling through my body every second without so much as a howdy do or excuse me!

I mean I can take the MENSA application test if I want to be insulted. I can nod dumbly as a nuclear physicist patiently explains the wherefores of string theory if I want to feel OUT OF MY MIND STUPID. I can make a list of stuff like this a mile long that would make me feel light in the neuron-possessing academy.

I don’t need no idiot at Land-o-it’s-butter-for-christsakes-Lakes telling me they know what herb to put on my freakin’ chicken!

So stuff it in your advertisement portfolio and budget and sit on it and twirl!

I feel better now.

 

 

 

Time to Make My Mark!

Tags

advertising, Election 2012, Entertainment, life in the meadow, lifestyle, Madison Avenue, Mitt Romney, Occupy Wall Street, Politics, Women's issues

I hate to tell you this, but I’m approaching 62.

Frightening, I know.

One wants, or at least I think one wants to leave some sort of legacy in the world. It may be as mothers, or wives, or corporate raiders, but we want something.

I came to the conclusion that for some people, the only avenue for that is eccentricity.

Not the type that comes from a Madonna or Lady GaGa. That is an eccentricity molded to build a career upon. Nothing wrong with it, but different.

There is the type that is simply inborn–the six-year-old who is determined to wear the most outlandish of wardrobes as a statement of independence from the herd. This is life-long and extends to an outlook that is askew in every respect upon the world at large.

No, I’m talking about the “I’m gettin’ old and I want to be noticed” kinda eccentricity. It is the eccentricity that results in a yard full of “lawn ornaments” of every size and shape. It causes one to paint one’s house with polkadots, or drive a scooter at age 80. It causes people to wonder, “has she tipped” or is she just being eccentric? And the trick is, you never let them get the answer. You smile, you wink, you whistle, and you move on.

Trouble is, I now live in a place where eccentricity is pretty much taken as the norm. There are plenty of examples around Troy. When too many are eccentric, well, they are NORMAL. And that defeats the entire purpose.

Problem too, is I don’t have any idea of what to do to be eccentric. I could collect salt and pepper shakers, but heck, nobody would know. I could engage in expert bird and animal mimicry, but who would hear? I could wear nothing but things I knit, but, whoa, I think that has already been done by Carla at the Dam Bar up town. I’m stymied, you see.

How to make my mark in New Mexico? How to stand out from the crowd and be recognized as a true “free spirit”. See, that is what I yearn for. To be the person everyone wishes they had the guts to be if they had the time.

If you have any suggestions, and you guys seldom do, I’d appreciate it. I’m collecting bird feathers. I have a lot of them. Well, not a lot, lot, but a lot if you don’t have ANY. I have a lot then. Can I do something with them that would be eccentric? Quick. Set me on my path before senility sets in and I’m eccentric without realizing it. That would be unfortunate, and defeat the purpose. Do you see? Or am I being eccentric?

§

I think the GOP race has now reached it nadir. It is a huge bore now.  They slog on, and the same rhetoric, the same crap will be resurrected in the state of South Carolina. *Yawn*. For a political blogger, like moi, this is not good news. Or am I being eccentric?

§

I suppose I could write short stories and write them intentionally badly. Would I know I was writing them so? Or do I write badly and think I don’t, now? It can get quite confusing in my head at times. It may be that I am on to something. Or am I being eccentric?

 §

One of the drawbacks to having the ability to record television for later watching, is that in February I’m still watching Jared ads for Christmas chocolate diamonds. God they are awful aren’t they? And those Target girls romping in fake snow with their perky little mittens. An innovation in recording would be to do it minus the ads. But then, sigh, an hour, would be 52 minutes, and 30 would be 22, and how can one order one’s life without  strict adherence to 30 and 60 minute segments. I mean all of life is rationed this way. It would be too bold. Or am I being eccentric?

§

If you have nothing much to think about today:

 “they” does not agree with a singular, gender-neutral referent by the single feature of number, “he” also does not agree with its singular, gender-neutral referent by the single feature of gender.”

Got that? Well it refers to the statement:

  I saw someone, but I don’t think they saw me.”

Up until about 200 years ago, they was correct, even though someone is singular. But it was changed to “he” and is now claimed to be generic which it is not. It’s he. So should we change back? I actually think I’m being a bit eccentric here, now.

§

 When is redistribution good?

As the New York Times points out.

The OWS says that we are sick and tired of the 1% redistributing all wealth only to the top.

The 1% calls this a call for “redistributing wealth”.

 Or is it merely returning it to the lawful owners?

Surely, I’m being eccentric now.

§

Maureen Dowd has a rather fun little piece about our Mittens.  And there is no eccentricity about that at all.

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Which Scares You Most?

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advertizing, bill of rights, Constitution, Election 2012, freedom, God, GOP, heaven and hell, Humor, Newt Gingrich, non-citizens, North Korea, religious fundamentalists

I have to tell you, I’m pretty much stumped here.

Both send shivers down my spine I tell ya.

If you knocked on your neighbor’s door and looked upon either of these alternatives, I think you might start digging that bunker about now.

While I applaud devices that tend to bring families together, I kinda draw the line at footed jammies complete with hoodies and fingerless mittens, all to enjoy the frigid environs of one’s own family room.

Oh, and you can get your name on yours so you never have to be concerned about getting into somebody else’s stinky jammie.

I understand that next year’s fashion mavens are already calling for an embedded microwave and poo bag attachment, all to eliminate those troublesome trots to the pee-room.

On the other hand, nukes in the hands of the spawn of an idiot is not a pleasant thought either.

I hear tell the spawn-apparent, Kim Jong-un has already set off a couple of missiles that fell into the ocean, in celebration of his ascension to the top of the nut-tree.

So, it’s a toss-up in my view.

♦

Meanwhile, back in our own circus tent, Newty seems to have begun to fall already. Paul is now in the lead in Iowa, which proves something, I’m just not sure what. Mostly I think it means that Iowan’s are just bored as hell this time of year. Fallow fields, and a general color of grey-brown, is after all, boring.

But don’t get your hopes up Ricky S., the bell tolls, but not for thee. See, Ricky, we here in Iowa, just dad-gum-it, don’t like you. It’s just that simple. Go home.

Newty, ya barely kept the lead for two weeks! We thought you had better staying power than that. But you just can’t do it can ya? You just can’t keep your mouth in check. Talking about having judges arrested to justify decisions you don’t like, well, good grief Oh Slimy One, that was just not gonna catch on. Not even here in Iowa. And we like to punish judges here as good as the next guy. But REALLY.

You did not think that one through Gangsta Gingrich. You can’t ignore and intimidate judges and then talk about how you’re a constitutionalist. See they have courts in Iran my grifter friend, and they do quality stamp the state’s decision there. And if we do that here, well, it really screws up the argument that we gotta get ready to force  regime change there, cuz of their Mullah-dictatorships.

Getting my drift, NG? Well, it’s probably too late now. So it’s probably best you high tail it down to Callista’s next kiddie book signing, cuz my buddy, that is your future.

We could have had lots more fun, but your mouth got in the way. I guess we always knew it would.

♦

Well, we understand that the President (whom we rather like most all of the time) has agreed to sign a bill that allows for the detention of enemy combatants arrested on American soil, for virtually as long as forever given that a war on a thing, (terrorism) is not likely to ever end.

Now we understand that the 8th Circuit Court of Appeals has agreed with the 6th Circuit Court of Appeals that “undocumented aliens” are not entitled provisions under our Constitution, such as freedom from search and seizure and so forth. Such provisions are, in the Constitution, “reserved to the people.” Both courts now claim that “people” refer to “political community” and that “illegals” are not part of that.

My question, (or comment) is this: If we think these concepts are “human rights” and we are always trying to export them, sometimes with force, around the world, then how do we justify in not applying them to what I would term “inconvenient” subsets of humanity in our own land?

I just don’t get that. Not at all. Maybe this scares me more than hoodie-footies.

♦

If you go grocery shopping this week, don’t expect to find any cayenne powder around. It’s all be sold out. I gigantic order was placed by North Korea, and sprayed liberally over crowds ordered to appear in the streets to show their sorrow at the passing of Kim Jong-il. If you hadn’t noticed, people are crying all over the place there.  And they have the pictures to prove it.

♦

The Contrarian argues that God was too busy weeping over the Packer loss yesterday to pay his customary attention to Tim Tebow’s Denver Broncos. Well, he can’t be everywhere!

♦

Bryan Fischer, all around equal-opportunity hater of huge chunks of humanity, just had to speak up on the death of Christopher Hitchens. In a brilliant tour-de-force of logic, Fischer assures us all that Hitchens is in hell.

Now you might say, well, what would you expect Fischer to say? And I agree, but his logic, now that’s the real sweet spot here. He claims that God sent him there out of His perfect love. Hitchens asks for it, and he got it.

So, God, hey, I would like to move to New Mexico, and find a $5 million dollar house, on a foreclosure sale for only $25,000. It’s what I am really asking for.

♦

Is it just me, or didn’t the GOP jackasses in Congress swear that with their ascendency in the House there would be no more bills with riders that have zero to do with the major portion of the bill? Okay, leaving that aside, once again The House GOP has found itself caught between its own stupidity and the TeaNutz®. Or in other words, it’s caught between itself and itself.

They have, in their infinite dumbness, stopped the implementation of regulations designed to put in place the energy-efficient light bulbs. Now they have done this for a couple of reasons. First, their insane drooling miniscule crazies in the trailer-parks they pander to, think having “light bulbs of choice” is a “freedom” that must be fought to be retained. And second, the word “regulation” makes then salivate and lose their ability to hear.

Well, industry folks, you know, GE, Phillips, Osram Sylvania, you know, the JOB CREATORS WHO MAKE BULBS, are livid. Since they have all retooled and are busy about the business of making the new bulbs, they WANT THE FREAKIN’ RULES TO CHANGE. The  moronic TeaNutz® sit and scratch their nether regions, all the while shrugging and wondering what they did wrong.

♦

Okay. Now get the shovel and start digging that bunker.

 

 

 

Related articles

• American Family Association’s Bryan Fischer: God Sent Hitchens to Hell Because He Loved Him (littlegreenfootballs.com)
• God Sent Christopher Hitchens to Hell Because He Loved Him – Bryan Fischer – Focal Point (richarddawkins.net)