Remember how great it was when you were an innocent child, and you thought magical things were real? You believed that a fat man in red costume somehow fit into a chimney and brought you presents every Christmas, solely for the compensation of chocolate chip cookies and milk. You thought that a strange fairy collected your teeth(**) and gave you money for them.
(**)What the hell did that b***h do with those teeth anyway? What a weird thing to collect. Is there any doubt that some hoarder came up with her in the first place? He probably collected all the teeth he could get his hands on and thought, "People will think it'll be OK if I conjure up some fairy who takes teeth and gives money for them!"
Slowly but surely, however, your childhood fantasies are crushed. You learn that the Santa whose lap you sat on at the mall was just some drunk trying to come up with cash so that he could buy a bottle of liquor. You discover that the tooth fairy was really just one of your parents all along, and then you wonder what the hell they've been doing with your teeth this whole time. You come to know that the Easter Bunny, Mr. Hankey and Native Americans have been fabrications when you believed that they were real.
Once you realize this, your childhood is effectively finished, and you're ready to enter the cruel world of adulthood, where you'll work 40 hours or more per week just to see a third of your paycheck go to the government and another third into your landlord/mortgage company's hands. And then you wonder how your parents managed to afford to pay for your stupid teeth in the first place.
Of course, some of your perceived realities are shattered even when you're grown up. For instance, E.J. Manuel thought he was going to be an NFL quarterback, but he quickly realized that he doesn't have any of the acquired attributes to be one. Other adults may think they have the next great thing - whether it's a book, an invention or a Web site - but they eventually learn that their idea was stupid and will never pan out.
I had a similar reality check recently. I was watching TV with my girlfriend when a commercial for Nescafe came on. Mario Lopez, whom many of you know as A.C. Slater from Saved by the Bell, was the spokesperson. It was literally five minutes of Lopez talking about some coffee machine except when he was interrupted by the narrator, who discussed how to operate the machine, and several experts, whom I'll get to later.
I scoured the Internet for the full video - and by "scour," I mean, look for two minutes - but all I could locate was an abbreviated version lasting one minute. It doesn't have the experts joining Lopez, but it's good enough to get my point across:
As I was watching this video with my girlfriend, the following things Lopez said caught my attention:
"I am a PASSIONATE coffee lover."
"This little powerhouse right here..."
"Teas ... True ice drinks!"
Wait a second... is...?
"Is Mario Lopez gay?" my girlfriend asked. "I think he's gay!"
I was about to say the same thing. My girlfriend has several gay guy friends, so her gaydar is impeccable. She can spot a gay person from five miles away. My gaydar isn't as impressive, but it is functional, and it was definitely telling me that Lopez is heterosexually challenged (to use the politically correct term).
And just like that, my world was crumbling before my eyes. I remembered when I first came to know Mario Lopez. He and Zack Morris were competing for Kelly Kapowski on episodes of Saved by the Bell How could the big-and-tough A.C. Slater be gay when he battled with Zack for the right to date Kelly?
It didn't make any sense to me, but then I realized what I had been missing all along. A.C. Slater willingly wrestled with other dudes, all of whom wore this costume:
They never showed wrestling practice on the show. What if wrestling "practice" was actually a giant, heterosexually challenged male orgy?
Then, there was this moment of the show:
Everyone simply dismissed that as A.C. Slater trying to win the favor of some ladies by performing a ballet number at the local diner, but what he really was doing was finally expressing his inner self.
And we all missed this:
Doesn't it look like A.C. Slater - who apparently loves his pink and purple tank tops - is hitting on Zack by creepily having his hand on the wall like that? And what about the nickname "Preppy?" Doesn't it seem like A.C. Slater wanted to boink Zack up the rear end and shout, "Yeah, Preppy, take that Preppy, how do you like my big schlong inside your butt hole, Preppy!?"
I still can't believe it. I feel like I've been lied to all of these years. Saved by the Bell introduced me to my first male rivalry when I was a kid, but it turned out to be one man concealing his sexual desire for another man while pretending to compete for the hottest girl at school. No wonder Zack ultimately won Kelly. What A.C. wanted was Zack all along, but he ultimately realized that he could never have heterosexually challenged sex with his male friend, so he gave up and resorted to dating the ugly tall chick instead.
You have no idea how upset I am over this. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay, just like there's nothing wrong with your parents giving you money instead of the Tooth Fairy, but I just feel betrayed after being fed lies about the relationships between Zack, A.C. and Kelly, which I cared so deeply about throughout my childhood.
"I want one of those!" my girlfriend exclaimed upon watching two minutes of the Nescafe commercial, breaking my train of miserable thought. I made a note of it - Christmas is coming up soon, after all - but she changed her mind about a minute after that.
"I don't want to be one of those pretentious people," she said. She was referring to the experts who appeared on the Nescafe commercial once Mario Lopez was done speaking. One of these experts, a middle-aged woman sporting a Justin Bieber-style lesbian haircut, talked about how wonderful this Nescafe machine was. She was an expert, by the way, because she was a two-time national champion barista. A two-time champion!
I have countless questions about this: How does one become a barista champion? Who judges if you're a barista champion or not? How are potential barista champions judged in this regard? How many people compete in a barista championship, if there is one? If there weren't many people - and I can't imagine there are - is it really that impressive if someone has only been a barista champion twice? If barely anyone has heard about these barista championships - if they even exist - what does it matter if you're a barista champion? Is there some sort of Web site where we can confirm that this woman is a two-time barista champion? If not, how can we believe that she is, in fact, a two-time barista champion?
I imagine that anyone can go around saying they're a barista champion. I can introduce myself as, "Hi, I'm Walter Cherepinsky, and I'm a five-time barista champion." Would anyone call me out on that? Of course not, because it sounds ridiculous. Who the hell would want to be a barista champion anyway? People would think, Oh, that's cool, I guess, well, not really, but at least he's accomplished something.
Taking this one step further, I bet I could get away with saying that I'm the former MVP of some sport I made up. I could tell people that I was a five-time MVP of Flogmonton. What is Flogmonton, you ask? It's the sport with the ball, and you have to do all of this athletic stuff to score points; it's awesome. And if they don't believe me, I'd have a Flogmonton Web site ready to show to them, and it'll have my picture on there and everything, celebrating the fact that I'm the only five-time MVP in Flogmonton history. In fact, it could say that I'm the greatest Flogmonton player in the history of the National Flogmonton League.
Hold on, just got a text. It's my girlfriend. She had asked what I was doing beforehand, and I told her I was writing about Mario Lopez and the Nescafe commercial. Here's her response:
"Dude that was the worst. He is sooooooooooooooo gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that."
Don't I have an awesome girlfriend? And I didn't even have to impress her by telling her that I'm a five-time Flogmonton MVP!
But there is something worse...
That Nescafe commercial was brutal - imagine four more minutes of what I just showed you - but there is a worse ad campaign running right now, and if you remember the title of this Jerks entry, you know what I'm referring to. That, of course, would be the AT&T ads with Lily Adams.
If you somehow have no clue what I'm referring to, here's the first one of these commercials they made:
I was hoping for people to talk about how awful this campaign is, but the losers commenting on this video on its YouTube page were just perverts discussing how hot she is. One guy, Aqualung1956, said the following, "I want her to whip out her tits every time I see this." Every time? How many times has this creeper watched this video? Does he sit at home, whacking off to this video five times per day? Does he think Lily will finally whip out her tits, just for him? What a weirdo.
Anyway, that commercial wasn't so bad, but it spawned many others, including this abomination:
I don't get it. Why are these snarky women acting like that? Are they referencing some old show no one has seen before? Because I've asked people about this, and no one has any idea what they're supposed to be doing.
And what about that weird guy? Why is he even with them, and why does he not know what's going on? One commenter said it best:
"This commercial is sexist and racist against men and Caucasians. Look at how they make the women articulate, bright and assertive while they make the lone white male a big p***y!"
I agree, 100 percent. Us white males always get the short end of the stick, and things like this make it so much worse. Thanks to the decaying Y chromosome, the male gender will cease to exist in approximately five million years, so maybe these women should stop ridiculing us and begin appreciating us while we're still around.
Anyway, Lily always seems to know what to say to her customers. That's because she's a telepath:
A little creepy there. Though I guess it's a good thing this guy wasn't thinking, "I wish you'd whip out your tits!"
Of all the Lily AT&T commercials, I'd say this is the worst one:
Ugh. Thank God they don't air this piece of s*** anymore; otherwise, I'd have to slice off my ears to spare myself the agony of hearing these actors talk.
It's so just so pretentious and stupid. Like, do the parents really think their baby is going to sleep in a mall store? No one's going to be quiet at the mall. And why even bring the baby to the mall? They didn't both have to go. One of them could've stayed home, while the other went to the AT&T store.
I'm glad I wasn't the only person frustrated by this flaming pile of garbage. Here are some of the comments on that YouTube page and my reactions to them:
Idiot parents bring their sleeping baby out in busy public places... then demand that the entire world to comply with whispers or silence???
Exactly. I hate parents. The world doesn't revolve around you and your stupid baby.
America loves making men feminine. Then women wonder why they can't find a real guy any more.
Are you a real guy? Can women not find you? Are you hoping that Lily whips out her tits?
This commercial is awful. It's literally Hitler.
A man who killed 20 million people or this piece of s***. This piece of s*** or a man who killed 20 million people? It's a close call!
Anyone else notice she always talks to the men instead of the women. She's basically flirting with them.
Maybe Lily can call the male customers she bangs "preppy" - kind of like Mario Lopez does once he's done brewing his true ice drinks.