In which my jaw literally dropped

In CategoryNavel Gazing

So last night we were sitting on the couch, innocently eating dinner and watching some teevee. As I went to fast-forward through a commercial, I was assaulted by this:

I mean seriously. Do these companies not have focus groups? Who is the pea-brain who thought, “Hey! Maxi-pads and mechanical bulls! Those things go together!” Was it a man? Was it a girl who maybe went out to a cowboy bar and had a little too much to drink? “Keeps you in the saddle?” Who wrote that?

Lookit. I’m a girl. I’ve been one my whole life. I’ve been experiencing Aunt Flo for . . . oh jeez, I think it’s been over 25 years.

(How can that be right? I should just delete that. Twenty-five years? That’s just obnoxious.)

ANYway, that is to say I am not unfamiliar with the Feminine Hygeine Product.


I do NOT want to see advertisements for this stuff! In fact, I don’t really want to think about the whole thing at all. Every month, I roll my eyes and go, “oh right. this again.”

And don’t even get me started on that pregnancy-test commercial with the gigantic stream of pee raining down on the space-ship sized test stick. That’s just wrong.

Look. Look at the wrongness:

Do they realize that we have giant, high-definition televisions now? I don’t really need to see a stream of pee that looks like it was poured out of a five-gallon Gatorade bucket at a football game to get the idea.

Some of those pitch meetings must have been freaking  hilarious – “well you see, what we have here is a tiny mechanical bull, see, and the maxi-pad is RIDING the bull, and well, we think it’s a winner.”

I have some stuff to say about that weird Quizno’s commercial with the three stuffed cats playing mariachi music, but I’ll save it for our next session.