Toilet Paper Revolt

Can someone tell me what is up with this spate of disgusting toilet paper commercials? Listen: this is America. Toilet paper is, thankfully, pretty plentiful, even if it's the nasty one-ply kind found in public restrooms or the guest bathrooms of cheap people. WE GET WHAT IT'S FOR. What is up with all these commercials hell-bent on elucidating exactly what it does? Enough, already! Unless they're marketing to the recently toilet trained or members of some ecoterrorist group ideologically opposed to toilet paper, I don't get it.

Cases in point:

1) Those Charmin bears who are plagued by their TP "leaving pieces behind". Um, just because they're animated bears and one's a baby doesn't make this any less gross. And it's not bad enough that they just talk about this burning issue - then they go a step further and show the particles. I don't care that it's just a cartoon - it's disgusting.



2) Speaking of disgusting, let's talk about this new Quilted Northern commercial where a bunch of non-animated dames stand around and talk about what they need their toilet paper to do. "It gets you clean while helping to keep your hands clean." HELLO. It's toilet paper. THAT'S WHAT IT DOES. This whole "we need it to protect our hands, too" stuff... Isn't that part of the deal?! Who is watching this and thinking, "Oh, I never thought of that!"? Since this commercial is clearly not teaching us anything new, I can only conclude that it exists to enrage people with its stupidity. And totally skeeve them out.

And also, don't dudes buy toilet paper? How come all these commercials feature women (or adorable bear children)?

Look, all you need to do to successfully market toilet paper is to ensure people that it's not going to scrape off their flesh when they use it (I'm talking to you, Scott Tissue) or render you infertile. Let's leave this all behind (no pun intended), bring back that Mr. Whipple guy and tell him to start squeezin'.

TV Review: Dwarf Shows

Have we had enough of these shows about midgets, or what? I swear, every time I turn on the TV there's some new show on basic cable about ice road truckers - who are also little people!

As far as I'm concerned, what kicked it all off was the TLC special, "The Smallest People in the World" featuring poor Sharon, a primordial dwarf with regular-sized teeth. Oh, my word. That'll make you cry. In case you don't know, primordial dwarfism produces people who are teeny tiny, like this dude (no, that's not Photoshopped). It's pretty rare, but like, aren't their lives tough enough without calling them "primordial"? I mean, it doesn't sound nice, because what do you think of when you hear the word "primordial"? Ooze, right? Not nice.

Then that spawned "Little People, Big World" about the tractor-riding drunken Roloff family of dwarves somewhere in the midwest. BORING. They run a pumpkin patch or something and it's all well and good, but who cares?

Then they started with this "Littlest Couple" which I've never seen but I think is about a couple of dwarves trying to have a kid. Whatever.

Then, things started getting really nutty. "The Little Chocolatiers" is yet another show about a confectionery-type company (like "Cake Boss" or "Ace of Cakes"), but is different because it's RUN BY MIDGETS. Are you kidding me? Sigh.

Over on Animal Planet, they've got "Pit Boss", which as far as I can ascertain is about a group that runs an illegal pit bull breeding and dog fighting business but, you guessed it, is comprised of dwarfs (the people, not the pit bulls).

ENOUGH ALREADY WITH THE MIDGETS. If the point of these shows is to show that they are just like "regular people" then LEAVE THEM THE HELL ALONE. Stop trotting them out and making them hop on a step stool in front of the cameras so they can pay for gum at the store. This whole "they're just like us, see?" idea is a crock, because if they were, they wouldn't be on TV. Just let them do their thing!

Dope Driving.

I don't drive very often, but when I do, there's always a theme. It's like the first idiot creates a topic sentence by doing something stupid and then everyone else plays the role of supporting sentences by doing something similarly dumb. The conclusion comes when I've reached my destination, fuming with rage. PEOPLE ON 'LUDES SHOULD NOT DRIVE.

Some popular themes embraced by stupid drivers include:

1) Let's cut you off and then go 12 MPH in front of you. A slight variation on the theme is the related "Let's cut you off and then repeatedly brake for no discernible reason." Like why do you HAVE to get in this lane when there's nothing wrong with the one you're putting along in? STAY THERE AND LEAVE ME BE.

2) Even though we're on a 4 lane highway and there is not another car in sight, I'll ride your bumper instead of passing. New Jersey, I'm looking at you. Any time this happens to me, I guess that the car will have NJ plates (they're usually tailing too close to see in the rear view) and I'm right 98% of the time.

3) Taking up as many lanes as I damn well please because I'm too busy like, WATCHING TV while I'm driving. I swear I was behind a car with a TV screen in the sun visor yesterday. WHAT IS THAT? Do we need to be entertained at every waking moment, at the expense of careening into other cars?!

4) If I am not sure where I'm going, I'll just stop in the MIDDLE OF THE ROAD to figure it out. No need to actually pull over - I'm the only person in the world who matters!

These are but a few. What are others you've experienced?

...and Twins!

Can someone please explain the concept of the celebrity look-alike to me? Like, how is it a job to sort of look like a famous person who actually, you know, does stuff? What is the market for this? The opening of a mini-mall? And who's getting excited to see a discount version of say, Fantasia? Does she sing like Fanny? No? WHAT IS THE POINT? Even for like, a kids' birthday party, I don't think this would fly. They might be excited until they finally realize that that's not really Britney Spears prancing around their living room. Then the whole situation just becomes embarrassing for everyone involved.

Even worse are celebrity look-alikes of people who don't even do anything in the first place. We're talking Paris Hilton, the Pope, et al. That's great that you have a big ass and look kind of like Kim Kardashian. What are you going to do at a corporate function? Reenact scenes from her sex tape?

Along the same lines are wax museums. Why do these exist? Are you supposed to take photos from just the right angle so that you can't see the shiny, waxy veneer and try to fool your friends into thinking you actually met Rodney Dangerfield? Um, first of all, he's dead. Secondly, they always look kind of off. Like the wigs are askew, the eyes a little wonky, the features a little too masculine or feminine.

Wax museums always seem to be in major metropolitan cities (London, New York, San Francisco, etc.) where there's any number of better things one could be doing than looking at a fake version of Brad and Angelina. WHY WOULD YOU GO THERE? Maybe if it was raining and you had a coupon. Even so, though.

Much more amusing are sites like http://totallylookslike.com/ where they compare celebs to one another, or ones where you upload a pic of yourself and it tells you you look like Kathy Bates.

Tyra's Stank.

The time may have come for ANTM and me to part ways. Sad, as we spent some good Wednesday evenings together. Who can forget Crazy Lisa and the funniest thing I have ever seen on reality TV?


I've been overlooking Tyra and her nonsense for well nigh 13 cycles of ANTM, but after this week's installment, I'm finally acknowledging that Tyra is a total reject. For the photo shoot this week, Tyra shot the midget model hopefuls as "two different races".

First of all, she seems a little confused on what a "race" is. "Laura, you're going to be Mexican and Greek!" Um, neither of those is a race. Secondly - WTF?! This shoot involved all of the girls except Sundai, the lone black contender, to be dipped in dark body paint and "transformed into a new race." Basically, it was blackface, under the guise of celebrating President Obama's biracial heritage. I'll give you a moment to try to comprehend that crock.

Are you for real, Tyra? "Celebrating" different nationalities by painting skin and dressing the models in the most stereotypical (not to mention chintzy) clothing representing said nations/nationalities? The Native American/East Indian shoot included a full-on feather headress, sari and bindi, and came complete with regal, stoic stare. I was waiting for a lone tear to come dripping down her cheek. COME ON. These stupid stereotypes are how you're purporting to break down racial barriers? Are you serious?! If you want to celebrate being biracial, HOW ABOUT HAVING SOME BIRACIAL MODELS IN THE COMPETITION? You could totally save on body paint!

We should have seen this coming. There were precursors. Exhibit A: When Tyra made the models dress up poor and pose with real life homeless (yet photogenic) people! Then she explained that she knew the deal with homelessness, since she, too, was homeless FOR AN ENTIRE DAY. What does that even mean? That she didn't go home to her mansion until bedtime one day?! Then there was the Tyra in a Fat Suit episode of her unwatchable daytime TV show, "A Daily Celebration of Tyra." On the real, this woman is clueless. But in an increasingly harmful way.

Dirty Diapers.

WTF is up with the people at Pampers? Most of their ad campaigns (with the exception of that one with Salma Hayek and the most-imitable pronunciation of "Pampers" ever) are geared directly at toddlers. Like, they address babies directly about their diaper needs.

Where do I even start with this nonsense? How about that it's totally gross to market directly to PEOPLE WHO CANNOT EVEN INFLUENCE PURCHASING DECISIONS YET since they can't, you know, TALK. Like it's not bad enough that kids are constantly bombarded with commercialism and consumerism, now we're indoctrinating them to buy, buy, buy practically as soon as they emerge from the birth canal? Are the parents watching this thinking, "Why aren't they talking to me? I'm the one with the cash money"?

Secondly, what is this crap about how busy toddlers are, toiling around the house? No, they're not. They're napping, being waited on hand and foot, occasionally throwing tantrums and generally making a mess.

I get that they're really addressing the parents here with mentions of lawn care, household chores, etc., but it's really disturbing. Isn't it bad enough that 6 year olds know all the words to Pussycat Dolls songs and that child beauty pageants exist? Do we have to take a bunch of kids with no pants on who can't even use indoor plumbing yet and project them into roles of daily drudgery? Can we not just let kids be kids? Cripes. It's enough to make a person want to turn off the TV and become Amish. Although then I guess the kids would be raising barns from the time they could walk, so...

Trite Tripe.

Can we all agree to stop using the phrase "I love [whoever] to death"? I mean, WTF does that mean, anyway? That you love the person so much you want to kill them? That is not cool, man.

Even if intent to murder is not the intended subtext of the phrase, I've noticed that people usually use it to talk about someone they actually don't like all that much. "I love Hans to death... But his sandals make me gag." "I love my mother in-law-to death... but I'm glad she lives in Guam." "I love children to death... But I have vivid nightmares that those creepy twins from that Ikea commercial will somehow find me and murder me in my sleep." (Seriously, what is that commercial even about?! That the mom loves her matching ovens more than her twins? That twins are evil? The Twin Anti-Defamation League needs to get on that.)

While we're eradicating irritating, meaningless phrases from our collective vocabulary, let's also do away with the space-filler, "It is what it is." Oh, is it, really? WHAT? If it's not what it is, then WHAT IS IT? It's like an existential mind-bender. But stupid.

Border Follies.

Here's a fact: when you flee Canada for the U.S. via plane, they make you go through U.S. customs in Canada.

In Toronto, for instance, you go into the airport, expecting to proceed through the metal detectors and on to your gate and the opportunity to buy duty-free perfume and tobacco, but no. First you're confronted with a bunch of signs saying "U.S. Customs Checkpoint" and a line about 7 billion people long. If you've been up all weekend chugging maple syrup and searching desperately for moose, being confronted by all of this is a bit disorienting.

To complete the tableau and create the illusion that you're really about to cross the border, the stations are manned by surly, unsmiling customs people. Just in case you still have doubts that you've actually left Canada (even though you're still in Toronto), a miniature Statue of Liberty flanked by two crooked American flags with a sad "Welcome to the United States" banner draped in between is the first thing you see after your passport (no longer) gets stamped. Like that's going to fool anyone. "Look kids, it's the statue of Liberty! We must be in NEW YORK CITY!" All I wanted to know was, can I still unload some of this money with beavers on it?

Cry & Cut.

In the grand tradition of formerly comedic television actresses who now weep on commercials featuring starving children, I bring you Laurie Metcalf:



Remember when she was funny as Jackie on 'Roseanne'? Yeah, not anymore. Is the intent here to make me want to help this poor kid or punch her in the face? Because I'm leaning toward the latter. Pull yourself together. Starving children doesn't call for smiles, but would it kill you to stop sobbing and maybe put on some blush while you're at it? Sally Struthers made the effort - you should, too.

And if you think that's bad, check out the photo on her Wikipedia page. WTF is going on there? For real. She was 53 when this picture was taken, not 83 as her hair would lead you to believe. Why would you go into a salon and get the "Queen Elizabeth"? It's a hot mess, minus the hot.

Spoils of War.

Been waiting for the opportunity to wash that man right out of your hair AND cash in during these Troubled Economic Times? You're in luck:



Um, what? There's a lot going on here. Let's review:
1. Talking dogs.
2. Talking dogs who get their hair did at "Le Bistro". A cafe/dog groomer? Does not meet the health code.
3. Talking dogs with bling.
4. Talking, web-savvy dogs.
5. Good-for-nothing oglers.
5. Talking, web-savvy dogs who control their masters and then benefit financially from the behavior of good-for-nothing oglers though the acquisition of bejeweled dog accessories.

The tag line "break up with his jewelry, too" was the only part of this I heard when I first encountered this commercial. I was like, "Why are these women dating men who wear so much jewelry? Who are they dating? Mr. T? Liberace?"

Lashing Out.

Is there an epidemic of "eyelash inadequacy" sweeping the nation? Are people gnashing their teeth and wailing because their eyelashes simply aren't long or thick enough? According to the drug company that makes "Latisse", yes.

"Inadequate" lashes? "Not enough lashes"? Why are they being so judgmental? I can see if you had to undergo chemo or something and lost your eyelashes. Or if your lids are like, stark raving nude. But to get a prescription to help you grow eyelashes thicker? Is that covered under your health insurance plan?

Let's take a look at the possible side effects:

May cause eyelid skin darkening which may be reversible, and there is potential for increased brown iris pigmentation which is likely to be permanent.

So basically, you use this stuff and you could end up looking like Randy Constan.

Edible Infants.

You know how they can take a picture now and stick it on a cake? Yeah, that's weird. Like it's Grandpa's 75th birthday and here you are at the family party, eating part of his chin or working your way through his right arm. Festive.

Well, that's nothing. Because I was recently made aware of the 100% horrifying marzipan babies phenomenon. Like, miniature, realistic-looking babies THAT ARE MADE OUT OF SUGAR AND ARE EDIBLE. And evidently, twisted freaks like to give them out to nosh upon at baby showers.

I have good news. Turns out, I'm like five years behind the times and this all turned out to be a nasty rumor. I Snopes-ed it out and they're actually just these weird little figurines that some artist makes. Which, really, is kind of bizarre enough in itself. Weirder still is that I checked out the website and for some reason (read: to make an extra buck), you can buy little outfits for these mini babies and dress them up. What is the scenario like where someone is sitting around doing that? At least they're not eating them, I guess.

Miracle-Whipped.

Have you seen these new Miracle Whip commercials? You must click on the hyperlink because it is ri.donk.u.lous. The premise is that Miracle Whip is the most badass condiment to hit the streets since freakin' Grey Poupon so WATCH OUT, MOFOS.

Are you kidding me? MIRACLE WHIP being posited as some kind of cutting edge flavor-enhancer? This has got to be some kind of meta-joke, right? Because as far as I'm aware, Miracle Whip is a discount mayonnaise knockoff.

And we don't even have to talk about how amazing mayo is. It is manna from heaven. No ifs, ands or buts. Show me a snack more delicious than mayo on a piece of white bread. You can't, because it doesn't exist. Mayo is the world's most perfect foodstuff, and this Miracle Whip nonsense is some kind of cruel joke. "Salad dressing"?! Are you for real? What does that even mean? Why do I need "salad dressing" on my sandwich? I don't, so get it out of my face.

The Gary Busey Story.

What's up with Gary Busey? Is he rockin' a glass eye, or what?

I know he got all messed up when he broke his ass falling off a motorcycle back in '88 after freewheelin' down the highway. He wiped out. Girlfriend didn't have a helmet on and dented his head. So maybe that explains the eye, but that still leaves the Mystery of Busey's Teeth. They're real, right? Because why would you get fake teeth that look like that? "Give me the Mr. Ed." It just doesn't happen, not even in Buseyland. Plus, his son seems to have inherited that mouth. Have you seen him? This poor guy...it's not pretty.

You'd think people would take one look at Gary today and start wearing helmets like, ALL THE TIME, just as a precautionary measure against becoming Gary Busey. It's not nice to make fun of the cognitively impaired, but really, he seems like kind of a jerk. Not sure if this is a direct result of the noggin floggin' or if he was a jerk to begin with, but, there you go.

Gnome Domes.

While innocently perusing the internet in search of an appropriate, gardening-related Father's Day gift, I happened upon this gem: the venerable Mooning Gnome.

You must read the reviews, for they contain high levels of hilarity:

I got the mooning gnome as a christmas gift and it is my least favorite. It is smaller than the standard gnome and made of plastic. I live in Vegas and after two summers my gnome lost all color and turned a grayish black color. You get what you pay for and as a gag this is kind of fun but to a gnome collector it cheapens your yard.

Yes, the poor quality of the pantsless gnome is what is cheapening the yard, not the fact that there is, in fact, a dwarf with his ass hanging out stationed there.

Mooning Gnome too gauche? Try the item "Frequently Bought Together" with it: the Squatting Gnome. Nothing conveys an air of sophistication and elegance quite like a tableau of a miniature man defecating on one's lawn. Majestic!

The Baby Bunch.

What is with this fascination with people who have hundreds of kids? "Jon and Kate Plus Eight," "18 and Counting," "Table for 12," the Octo-Mom... where does it end?!

Is this just another example of our general fascination with excess? Like, the human extension of shows like "Cribs," "My Super Sweet 16," etc., where more is more and there is no such thing as too much? Or is it some sort of weird celebration of traditional conservative values (not so much with the Octo-Mom, there): home, family, kids, kids and more kids? It's like a modern-day "Waltons." But with shoes and without John-Boy. And real.

Is it a matter of schadenfreude, as we watch these parents try and wrangle their gaggles of kids, secretly thinking they're a bunch of freaks and laughing as their kids destroy their homes? Or watching how having so many damn toddlers is destroying their marriage (Jon and Kate)?

How can they afford to have this many freakin' kids, anyway?! I'm guessing it might be at least largely dependent upon the dough they're pulling in for pimping the kids out by having a TV crew follow their every move. So basically, they're getting rewarded for overpopulating an already overpopulated planet and we're helping them along by watching. Or maybe they can afford them just fine and just want to showcase their lives. Would it be so heartwarming if there was a show about a poor family who kept popping out kids like there's no tomorrow? That's who could use the TV show cash. Let's give that a whirl and see how it goes over.

Moving at Midnight.

Did it become socially acceptable at some point to MOVE (either in or out of an apartment) at midnight? Just wondering, because this is what the bowling neighbors upstairs, who had been pogo-ing nightly on my head, did the other night. Don't get it twisted: not having to listen to anything other than the occasional random drunk or abusive parent screeching out in the street has been nothing less than a precious gift, more beautiful than a unicorn's tears. But come on - midnight? On a Thursday? And it's not like they were skipping out on the rent: Landlord confirmed they were indeed gone since their lease was up May 1.

At my last apartment, my jackass neighbors moved IN at midnight. Pulled the U-Haul right up and began unloading, yelling to one another, rolling hand trucks around, the whole nine. (Practically) in the middle of the night. In the middle of the week. In the middle of the city, where there are like, you know, other people around.

Is moving at midnight the new black?

Fwine Slu.

Swine flu. Great. Like we need something else to worry about. Now every time some germbag sneezes on the street without covering up their pie-hole (which is like, at least six times a day), we're going to have to flee in the opposite direction, covering up our faces, Blanket Jackson-style.

While the King of Europe is telling people there not to come here or to go to Mexico (Canada seems to have escaped the North American stigma), new reports are coming in every 10 minutes, it seems. The last one I read had 73 confirmed cases worldwide: - worldwide. I could be crazy, but that doesn't seem like that much, given the billions of people in the world.

Just tell me whether I need to relocate to a yurt in Montana until this blows over, or what.

Well, Suuuuumimasen.

In some countries, it's perfectly acceptable to make bodily contact with strangers. Things can get crowded and stuff happens. You might find yourself being shoved into a subway car, your thighs getting intimately familiar with the contents of a stranger's pockets. Or you punch someone in the face during a soccer riot. That's just the way it is. I'm not judging. I'm celebrating the moments of our lives.

But that's not how it works here, to my knowledge. You bump into somebody, and there's a certain ritual that ensues:

BUMPER: Oops, excuse me. Sorry.
BUMPEE: Excuse me.
or
BUMPEE: That's OK.
or
BUMPEE: [discreet silence]

Nowhere is it prescribed that someone bumps into you, yells, "Owww!" you say "I'm sorry!" although it CLEARLY was not your fault, they make pain face, you say sorry again and then mention the fact that THEY bumped into YOU and then they look at you while rubbing their arm that's in a cast [which clearly should be more carefully protected by the owner and not be bandied about, in an athletic setting, all willy-nilly], LADY AT THE GYM TODAY. Grr.

Pukey in Pink.

"What about prom, Blaine? WHAT ABOUT PROM!?"

This post was just going to be about how annoying it is that the definite article ("the") is left out of the sentences above. Why isn't it "the prom"? Is it like Christmas? It comes yearly so you don't need to qualify it? To me, it sounds wrong. So stop it.

But in remembering "Pretty in Pink", I'm recalling how irritating that movie is:

1. Blaine is a loser who always looks like he's going to cry. What's the appeal? Oh right - he's rich.
2. Ducky is clearly gay and therefore Andie is right not to waste her time helping him discover this. Let some other gal live with the trauma of thinking she turned her boyfriend gay.
3. Still, though, Ducky and Andie should have gotten together at the end. Like we're supposed to believe this random chick at "prom" was all turned on by his pompadour, BOLO TIE and spats? Come on.
4. Pretty sure it's a basic rule of fashion that redheads should generally avoid pink. And for good reason.
5. Speaking of, wtf was up with that prom dress? Annie Potts looked way hotter in the original version of the frock, which Andie then hacks up into that polka-dotted mess that's shaped like an inverted triangle, topped off with pink lace. Are you for real with that thing?
6. On the subject of Annie Potts: way to totally give up your individuality so you can date some chump who owns a pet store. Trading in your various wigs and awesome vintage clothes for a freakin' blazer with 9 foot wide shoulder pads? Ugh.
7. Andie's dad = totally annoying. Get a job.

The only things I like about this movie: Andie's car and James Spader.