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Charlie Hatton
Brookline, MA
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Am I the only one who lets my 'internal monologue' get out of hand during Viagra commercials?
You know the spots that show a guy strolling through an office, or a party, coolly accepting compliments from his adoring fans? Well, I have a hard time just watching those commercials. My brain keeps wanting to get in the act. Sometimes, my mouth even helps.
(And yeah, that's not a sentence I'm entirely comfortable saying. Just work with me here.)
Anyway, I'll be sitting there, with my wife, minding my own business, just watching TV, when one of those damned commercials comes on:
Commercial: 'Hey, Joe -- did you get a haircut?'
Commercial: 'Nope'
Me: ('Why no, you must be noticing that big stiffy I'm sporting right now.')
Me: Heh.
Wife: What?
Me: Um, nothing. Nothing.
Commercial: 'Wow, Joe, you're looking good. Is that a new suit?'
Commercial: 'New? No.'
Me: ('No, it's not the suit. It's the fact that now I can flop my willy into the jacket pocket without taking it off.')
Me: Hee hee.
Wife: What are you laughing at?
Me: Wha'? I'm not, um, laughing. That was a cough. *cough kaff* Ahem. Excuse me.
Wife: I'm watching you.
Commercial: 'Well, hi, there, Joe. Wow, you're positively glowing! Did you get a raise?
Commercial: Heh. Nope, no raise.
Me: ('No raise, I'm afraid -- just an enormous, throbbing penis! Ooh, look at the penis of doom! Scaaaaaa-ryyyyy!')
Me: Bwah hah ha!
Wife: What?!
Me: Um... nothing. I just thought of a... um, joke. That I saw online. Yesterday.
Wife: A joke?
Me: Um, yeah. A joke.
Wife: Well, what was it?
Me: I... uh, I forget. Never mind.
Wife: You're a real dildo, you know that?
Commercial: 'Well, hi, Joe. Are you wearing a new cologne?'
Commercial: 'Nope, same as usual.'
Me: 'I've had a woody for the past three days! It won't go down! Somebody save me from my juiced-up Johnson! Aaiiieeee!
Wife: 'Juiced-up Johnson'?
Me: Oh, shit. I didn't say that out loud, did I?
Wife: 'Fraid so, Captain Woody. Behind on our meds again, are we?
Me: Nice talk. Feh.
This is just one more reason I love TiVo -- as long as I don't watch a show live, I can fast-forward past any of those commercials that might get me into trouble. And there are many, let me tell you. My 'inner voice' is quite the chatterbox when it comes to the ads. And not just Viagra -- oh, no. All kinds of product spots will set it off -- Depends, Massengill, Butterball (ooh, especially Butterball, those cheeky bastards)... Really, I just shouldn't watch TV at all.
So if you're anything like me, look out for those commercials, folks. They'll trip you up sooner or later, and then you too will be caught sitting on your couch, yelling, 'Oh, I've got some balls you can butter and stuff with squash!'
You know, like I did last week during a break in West Wing. It's a miracle I'm still married. And it's a damned good thing we were out of squash -- I think she'd have called my bluff. Yikes!
My favorite is the "When is a diet pill worth $153 a bottle?" commercial. I watched in silence the first couple of times it reared it's ugly head. (on Cartoon Network, no less)Then I started answering back at the TV. Personally, I believe it's the only sane thing to do.
I'd rather have 20 extra pounds and $153 in the bank, than buy their stupid product. I've gotten my son enrolled, and now we both shout at the TV, trying to one-up each other.
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You know "internal monologue" is kind of a misnomer for you isn't it? Not that I'm complaining. Can I ask you (hopefully waaaay) in advance if you'll write my obituary? Doesn't really matter that you don't know me. That's what blogs are for. Speaking of, I added your blog to my page and suddenly everything's gone all screwy and you, Echota and my archives all got put down on the very bottom of the page and it seem to be unwilling to let me move you. The Powers That Be have spoken!