i was sitting here tonight working and watching the idiot box when the geico caveman commercial came on. then i thought, “i love these commercials. they’re funny. but quietly so. there’s no talking, skateboarding dog. there’s no girls gone wild with mammaries poppin’ out left and right. there’s no animatronics. no flashing lights and screaming voices. it’s just simple, demure humor. and geico isn’t all in your face with their pitch. so that’s good.” and then i realized that i’ve devoted nearly 5 minutes to thinking about the cavemen, far more than the length of the actual commercial. that’s weird.
but i couldn’t let it go. i opened firefox and googled, “i love the geico caveman” and hit enter. then, i don’t know. i guess i just thought there would be nothing to see. but instead there were like nine million pages declaring their adoration. oh how much america loves their commercials. this page, i thought was an anti-caveman ad. i thought this because the website is called Awful Commercials dot com. i thought they might be doing some serious slaggin’ on them in there. the tagline to the website is, “ads ridiculed, lives ruined” for god sake. but silly me, that’s just what they WANT you to think. when i got there it was really all about the love. just how much they loved loved loved those cavemen. the main article told us so. and further more, 246 other people agreed. that 246 people cared enough to read an article and then leave an actual comment that speaks to their love of the geico cavemen commercials just blew my mind. but then again, there i am. reading it.
so there you go. all media is evil.
also, i got this email. it’s spam. can you explain it to me? cause i don’t get it. it would appear to me that someone was trying to tell me something about pimples. but then, inexplicably, they were literally dragged off while typing.
Name: remove pimples | IP: 66.36.232.13
remove pimples
nice information aetmwefyg
very sucpicious.
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A Woman's Manifesto
Because a woman’s work is never done.
and is underpaid, or unpaid, or boring, or repetitious,
and we’re the first to get fired,
and what we look like is more important than what we do.
And if we get raped its our fault
and if we get beaten we must have provoked it
and if we raise our voices we’re nagging bitches
and if we enjoy sex we’re nymphos
and if we don’t we’re frigid
and if we love women it’s because we can’t get a real man
and if we ask our doctor too many questions we’re neurotic or pushy
and if we expect childcare we’re selfish
and if we stand up for our rights we’re aggressive and un-feminine
and if we don’t we’re typical weak females
and if we want to get married we’re out to trap a man
and if we don’t we’re unnatural
and because we still can’t get an adequate, safe contraceptive, but men can walk on the moon
and if we can’t cope or don’t want a pregnancy we’re made to feel guilty about abortion
and for lots and lots of other reasons
we are part of the women’s liberation movement.- Joyce Stevens, International Woman’s Day, 1975.

Man Vs. Heart Attack
I am somewhat worried about the dude on Man v Food. He isn’t looking so good these days and putting that food away like that can’t be good for him.
One should always be drunk. That's all that matters; that's our one imperative need. So as not to feel Time's horrible burden; one which breaks your shoulders and bows you down, you must get drunk without cease.
But with what? With wine, poetry, or virtue as you choose. But get drunk.
And if, at some time, on steps of a palace, in the green grass of a ditch, in the bleak solitude of your room, you are waking and the drunkenness has already abated, ask the wind, the wave, the stars, the clock, all that which flees, all that which groans, all that which rolls, all that which sings, all that which speaks, ask them, what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the stars, the birds, and the clock, they will all reply:
"It is time to get drunk!
So that you may not be the martyred slaves of Time, get drunk, get drunk, and never pause for rest! With wine, poetry, or virtue, as you choose!"
Charles Baudelaire













I prefer the girls gone wild mammaries…
Here is a comment towards the 246 that you should be getting for this post.
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