Holy shit guys. We are in some bad shape. No really we are. Most guys that watch football have some serious issues according to advertisers. Whether it's erectile dysfunction, poor stream, hair loss, heartburn or promoting shitty beer (funny thing is I think all of these are connected) they have some snake oil to sell you.
Well if the advertisers have already exposed our deficencies as nearing middle aged men that watch football, then let's go the whole nine yards with this. As I mentioned before, I think all of these commercials are connected. First off, we drink beer (and some really shitty tastelss beer) to get a little liquid courage to talk to some of the trim that frequents sports bars. Hold up a second! Would you ever talk to your doctor about erectile dysfunction? No! You would talk with your drunk buddy Smitty in the men's room stall. You're drunk talk is loud enough that the whole men's room hears Smitty say there is a guy he can call on the payphone, outside the bar, about hooking you up with some ED medicine. Sorry for going off track but we're guys and we are too fucking retarded to go the legal and safe way for hard on meds.
Ok we started with beer but I got ahead of myself. I was thirsty and wanted the DT's to stop. So here is how I would want the advertising line up to go. Did anyone else see the Reebok commercial with the chick with the nice ass? I think she was selling shoes, but who gives a shit! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qCHKXICefFw) You lead off with that and it gets that inner stalker in all guys started. It sure makes you pay attention. Hey she is nagging me but is still paying attention to me! If I play my cards right, I could hook up with a cardio chic. Hmmmm. Tell me more o soothsayer.
Now we go to beer. Well, you're not quite yourself when you try to talk to extremely hot cardio chic. You need something to soothe your awkwarness. Ether! No, no commercials for Ether. But nothing glamorous about putting a wet rag of Ether over your face. But we need the ultimate equilizer. Jager! The modern day Ehter. Nope, no commercials for that either. Beer! Shitty beer, but, you do what you gotta do to have a chance to score. So you go ahead and risk a painful headache behind the eyes. You drink too much of the insert big internationally owned American beer comapny, to get a chance at sliding into the inverted triangle. And in your mind you are the clever guy from those commercials. However you are really yelling "Brady you're a cunt!" Boy that got her attention.
I said punt! No really I did. Fuck she's gone. Well what's behind door number two Monty? A goat! Fuck! I need Rosetta Stone for profanity. So we have a little too much beer. It's half time. A mad dash for the men's room and payphones to double up on bets. You run to the men's room, and all you see is the dreaded trough. No privacy. But the salty taste and the 6 year old pee pee dance you are doing makes you throw caution to the wind and pee. Hoping it's just shyness, and not a swollen prostate. Flowmax comes across the horizon. What a horrible name for a medicine that allows you to piss. But probably gives you the worst case of violent diarhea.
You run into Smitty. You compare notes on the trim situation. And complain of the eye ache you have from that 10 dollar bucket a beer. All the while the smell of somebdy's chicken nacho leftovers hangs in the air. But your a guy's guy. And nothing will take your mind off of the triangle. Not even some ass slapping stench. Smitty says getting laid will get rid of that headache. He tells you he knows a guy, who knows a guy, who was in the drunk tank with this guy that can get you some ED medicine. Make you last for hours incase you literally blow your load too early.
Now when we want this medicine the 1st thing that comes to mind is not what they advertise. A guy in his wedding day tux. A half ass jug band jamming in a road house. Then riding their bikes. Or you and a woman sitting in a bathtub out in the woods. Who the fuck came up with this shit!!!!??? And if you have an erection lasting more than four hours count your blessings! Use that thing till dust shoots out of it!
So Smitty's contact shows up. He makes the hand off. You pop this pill in the hopes it's going to bring you some mojo. However, today is just not your day. Smitty's contact has just slipped you the commercial they show late in the boradcast. Anti diarheal medicine. Now you are bound up tighter than an Asian woman's feet. Your doubled over and high pitched farting. Fucking Smitty!
We close our commercial with a camera shot of a pair of pants and underwear around the ankles.Praying for a release of a diffrent sort. One that will make you moan but with a diffrent sort of happy ending. Uttering the line "I can't believe I ate the whole thing!"
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