A Note to My Facebook Friends

What's Gaudier Than a Pink Hummer Limo?

One with a pink barbecue grill attached to the back bumper.

Seen in Altamonte Springs, Florida.

The Best Decade Ever

The lists are being created with wanton abandon. Give it a rest, already. Rolling Stone wants me to know what songs and albums were "The Best" in the last ten years. Hey, Rolling Stone, fuck you, OK? Every month you create a list, from the 100 Best Guitarists of All Time to the Top Ten Best Eddie Vedder Impersonators. (Scott Stapp, please Stopp.) When Rolling Stone isn't on their knees fellating Bruce Springsteen or praying to John Lennon, they're busy at the List Machine, making lists.

Time magazine has a whole bunch of "Top Tens." Top 10 Heisman Trophy Winners, Top 10 Beauty Pageant Scandals, Top 10 Things You Didn't Know About Hanukkah, even the Top 10 Disney Controversies. Those are real lists at a real news magazine's website. Maybe we should blame "Countdown" with Keith Olbermann. "Which of these top stories will you be talking about tomorrow?" he smugly demands at the beginning of each broadcast, with that stupid animation of a steel ball rolling around a track in a desert landscape. Hey, Keith, when I start looking to you to tell me what I should talk about tomorrow, I will start wearing ridiculous 1930s era gangster suits and pinstriping my hair.

Movies, food trends, notable deaths, vacation destinations, shoes, cars, purses, toys, Xbox games, hairstyles - you name it - we can find a list for it at year's end. A Top Ten list. A Top 100 list. A "Best" list. And it's all based on the musings of a panel of assholes emailing their suggestions to a bored editor, who compiles the submissions into a neat little list and then tells the readers what they should like or what they should've liked. It happens every December, but it's always worse at the end of a decade. I don't mind reading lists, just don't present them as the authority. It's a list of your favorites in a category.

I can't wait for January, when they start doing their Top Ten Predictions for the Year lists.

UPDATE: A commenter says I sound like Andy Rooney. Shit. I blame last night's tequila for making me a temporary curmudgeon today. And the beer. And the wine.

Why Does Academia Sometimes Get a Bad Rap?

Because people like this esteemed and smug professor like to "study" shit everyone already knows. You call this research?

In my coming Cultural Revolution, not ALL college professors will be sent to re-education camps, but this local genius will be a cobbler's maid, for sure.

Yo, Prof...take a look two posts back. We know, and we've been preying on them for decades. You just now figuring this out? I know you played with Barbies as a kid. C'mon.

No. Just...No.

Obama Will Get You Better Insurance

In no danger of losing their crown as the Kings of the Stupidest Banner Ads in the History of Earth, Lowermybills.com (who can forget dancing gay cowboys?) is now on the Obama bandwagon.OK, but what does Barack Obama have to do with my auto insurance rates, and why is he wandering around the country with his arms folded and a scowl on his face?

And why does the White House float around the country, eluding Obama? Is it a political statement on the part of lowermybills? Is it a game? Are you supposed to help Obama find his house? WTF is going on here?

NOTHING is going on. It's just lowermybills doing what they do best: getting your attention in the dumbest ways possible. Lowermybills is the kid in the lunchroom who only makes people laugh because he purposely snorts milk up his nose.

But as dumb as all the lowermybills campaigns are, I'm told they are among the most effective banners ever.

So keep this formula in mind when creating banners:

Stupid/Senseless¹⁰ + Heavy Rotation = Success.

Finally - An Issue That Matters

This is starting to get insane. Our politics are a total joke. We say we are electing the "leader of the free world" but this is the shit we care about.

Publishing note: I've decided to revive my other blog to post about politics and other things that aren't as light as the fare usually found here. I'll crosspost here when culture and national affairs intersect with advertising and marketing, which is pretty damn frequently lately, it seems.

I'm Glad, I Guess

"What's the problem, officer?
"Your balls. They're illegal."

Here's the story
Here's what we're talking about, in case you've never seen them. They even come in camo.

Silly Blog Games

Seems the Chimp Messiah has called me out, suggesting that I am perhaps a redneck because I live in the Sub-South. ("Deeper than the Deep South" - Translation: Florida.) Apparently the game works like this: You get "tagged" - then you have to reveal some dumb unknowns about yourself. Then you are allowed to call out others. So in the interest of perpetuating the incestuous ad blog community and in deference to my Chimp Brethren, I will play along.

So here you go, Descendent of Monkeys. Some Jetpacks Facts. Although the game only calls for five, I will provide some bonus notes. There will be a test on Friday.

1. I was born in Frankfurt, Germany and attended a different school nearly every year, covering New York, Washington State, Georgia, Virginia, Kansas, California (twice), Oklahoma (twice), Texas and then Germany again and California again (for a third time). Also a long stint in Missouri. (Or "Purgatory" for you Catholics.) As a result, I have no discernable accent.

2. To my knowledge, I was the youngest person (aged 12) to have ever helped install an antennae on the roof of the Pentagon.

3. I am a licensed, ordained minister and can legally marry and bury you.

4. I telecommute to New York and Dallas, and it rules. The closest thing to the Jetpack Lifestyle that they promised. I am looking at a canal (which has alligators in it) from where I sit typing this. (Pictured at top. Cue redneck banjo music. Ned Beatty enters, stage left.)

5. I grill a mean salmon.

6. My dog plays frisbee. He has a blog.

7. Though we have three cars in our family, not one of them is American. And I will never buy a Chevy because I hate John Cougar Mellencamp for reasons I won't go into.

And now, I will call out the following bloggers:

Copyranter...because he will refuse to play this stupid game.

Ariel...because she will play this silly game.

Hespos...because he thinks too deeply about this ad biz.

George Parker...because he will drop f-bombs all over his post.

James H...because he will crap all over this game.