The Pittsburgh Pirates win; the Cardinals lose, and the NL Central is a cesspool of mediocrity. The first place Pirates have the exact record as the first place Cleveland Indians, but the Pirates are the gritty Cinderella story in baseball while the Indians are the residue of a wet fart on a fat guy’s golf shorts. Perception is a strange cat.
On a more somber note, the MLB Network’s rotation of commercials is about to make me a homicidal maniac. Whatever cell phone company is producing the freak dancing solo in a train terminal needs to be called in front of Congress. I also want to harpoon Winnie the Pooh because of that seven year old Keane song in the trailer. Those who rely on a simple thing of the past for comfort in the present need to get on with the business of living or dying. Go to Sears where it rains cold hard facts, which is just what I am looking for when I am buying appliances. Hum an annoying song, take your Traveler’s Umbrella, and wear your dirt like a man because that type of moisture leads to foot fungus in the form of little, evil animated monsters, which can be eradicated with Lamisil.
Speaking of appliances, how is that microwaves aren’t equal? My son recently trashed a rather new microwave trying to make ice cream soft, so we had to get a new one, and thirty seconds on this one causes second degree burns. I bet the Sears guy can’t answer that. But I digress — back to the ads. What type of guy has a High Noon showdown with a weed in his driveway? Paying for a gardener is cheaper than buying Round Up.
Joe Mauer isn’t funny in those Head and Shoulders commercials either, plus the old guys in the boner pill commercials appear to have more potency than Mauer, which means he couldn’t get with the 1-800-Dentist lady. “Just because I am a car guy doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about the environment!” — sure thing, Old Timer. Car wash for kids? Couldn’t those creators come up with a better invention that that? Why do they have to change aspirin? Take two more if your headache persists — and don’t drink so much the night before.
The Pepsi Free commercials with baseball players in Iowa just might be the worst though. Rollie Fingers placing his mustache on that Pepsi dork just begs for a Children of the Corn ending. I’d bet a great deal of money that if the Pepsi Free truck driver was disembolwed, a bunch of talking M&M’s would dance from his intestines.
Some Know-It-All is going to say, “Haven’t you heard of a DVR? Just record your games and fast forward through the commercials.” Look, watching tape delayed sports is like opening your Christmas presents on December 26th — after your cheap parents ran out and shopped for deals that morning. Besides, the homely Progressive Insurance chick piques my curiosity. I bet she is a wildcat.
Dead Religions 