Things TV commercials get wrong about women

1. When we get a pimple, it’s just one. And it’s the end of the world.

Neutrogena commercials all start about the same way; an ambiguously-aged teen is getting ready to go to an *important event* and is mortified to discover that there’s something wrong with her face. Oh, holy shit, she has ONE FUCKING PIMPLE ON HER CHIN. How will she make it through the water polo banquet looking like such a ghoul???

First of all, I spit on your single zit. If I’d woken up some morning in high school and discovered I only had one measly blemish on my chin, I would have been fucking elated. One pimple meant 10 less than I had the day before.

And they always pick the most fresh faced kids to be in those commercials. Around that one, single pimple is a delicate canvas, even toned and devoid of visible pores. It’s like they stretched a baby doll’s ass skin over an adult skull.

In reality we’re much braver about zits than that, especially since we’ve been trained to paint away any and every flaw that exists. One pimple is NOTHING for the cosmetics industry.

2. We don’t drink real beer.

When I say real beer I do not mean Miller 64. And I certainly do not mean Smirnoff Ice.

Beer commercials pander to women, but only if they can boast less than 100 calories or an assload of high fructose corn syrup. Porters and stouts are just too heavy and threaten to turn our delicate stomachs into bloated guts or close our thigh gaps forever. I mean, I know when I’m getting plastered the prevailing thought running through my head is “I’M GETTING SO FAT RIGHT NOW FROM ALL THESE BEER CALORIES.”

In general, television thinks that all women are obsessive calorie counters. “Buy our granola bar; it tastes like sand and wood shavings but it only has 10 calories!” No fucking thanks. I just ordered 8 bagels.

3. If a man smells good, we are automatically attracted to him.

(Credit goes to my friend Kayle for pointing this one out to me.)

Men’s fragrance commercials are their own brand of awful. Most of the time they involve a couple vacationing somewhere beachy or romantic and the woman is just completely disarmed by her man’s scent. She can’t even fucking stand up because he smells so good that every neuron in her brain is having its own earth-shattering orgasm. Her mouth is sharting moans of pleasure completely involuntarily while he stands there, just smelling nice.

But Axe commercials are the most terrible, of course. Besides the fact that Axe smells like an overflowing diaper marinated in Listerine, Axe seems to think that their body splash gives men a special female magnetizing super power. Hordes of conveniently scantily-clad women drop whatever they’re doing to jump on some dopey high schooler who just sprayed this skunk bomb of a product in his pits. It doesn’t matter who he is; Axe is so powerful that it causes women to experience complete judgement paralysis.

4. We are angels of domesticity who get real satisfaction out of a clean house.

It seems like every commercial for a household cleaning product involves a mother tidying up after her pesky kids tear into the house from the backyard (trailed by a muddy dog, of course). The mother, who is always reading a fashion magazine or doing laundry, shakes her head and emits a silent, pearly-mouthed guffaw of amusement.

“Oh, those darn kids. Good thing I have an Extra Wet Hyper Powered Slime Blaster to take care of this mess!”

And then she fires up her dirt wand and wipes her floors (which are always white; who wants white floors?) completely clean in a matter of seconds, still smiling all the while.

And when her eight year old son presents her with his favorite white t-shirt, inexplicably soiled with grass stains, feces, and what appears to be an entire bottle of ketchup, she just waggles her finger and throws it in the wash with whatever 9 molar acid detergent it is we’re supposed to want to buy.

Because real mothers are people and not robot maids, they don’t just shrug off their family’s inconsiderate rejection of basic human cleanliness. If your living filth toboggan of a kid dragged her mud-caked ass across your white tile to get to her chicken nuggets, you would lose your shit. Partly because you’re too busy doing other things to clean and partly because that stupid space mop you bought last month is already broken.

Oh yeah, and that bleach commercial where that 4 year old kid poops in the bath tub? IT’S NOT CUTE. BATH TUB POOP IS NEVER CUTE.

5. The right product will make your period completely unnoticeable!

Feminine hygiene has a long and storied history. We’ve gone from 12-ply underpants held up by suspenders to tampons the size of your pinky finger with 80 different kinds of uncomfortable and leaky models in between.

Today, period receptacles have all kinds of weird features to make them as thin and discrete as possible while still remaining functional. As a result, brands often boast that their product is so comfortable that you’ll forget you’re even on your period.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

Unless Tampax can figure out a way to teleport blood out of my uterus, I will ALWAYS be conscious of my period. No space fabric will ever be able to change the fact that wearing a pad feels like sitting in a bowl of salsa. Wearing a tampon in the pool will always be a lottery of terror. Periods always have and always will suck, whether you’re wearing a giant diaper or a tiny vagina vacuum (they’ll probably invent those soon).

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Facts you may not have known about Halloween

Where did Trick-or-Treat come from?

400 years ago, people used to eat children. “Oh my God, Celia, that’s disgusting and monstrous. How could you even suggest such a thing?”

It’s true. Why else do you think people died at such an insane rate back then? Because they were eating each other and their bodies were totally not down with that. We’re not better off now because of modern medicine or better hygiene practices or any of that garbage; it’s because we stopped eating children.

Anyway, back to Trick-or-Treat.

Near the end of October, people would start to prep for Thanksgiving, which meant fattening up the children of the community. On one specific night, parents with promising candidates would parade their children around the neighborhood asking other families for food donations in hopes of putting more meat on junior’s bones. It used to be that most parents handed out straight-up lard, but eventually they decided it was more humane to just give the poor kids sweets since they were gonna get cooked later and all.

Anyway, the kids would go home with their bounty and gorge on it for a couple days. Whichever children ended up the fattest were basted with marinade for the following three weeks in preparation for Thanksgiving dinner. See, that’s why people had so many kids back then; they had to replace the ones they ate the previous year.

According to adults, getting picked was some big honor for the chosen ones, but the kids didn’t see it that way. They banded together and decided to start dressing themselves up in an unattractive way to turn off the people doling out food. No one wants to eat an ugly, ghoulish child after all.

It wasn’t until much later, after the whole cannibalism thing went by the wayside and everyone had a big laugh about it, that they picked up the name “Trick-or-Treat.” Cause then it was all “Haha are you gonna stuff me full of candy and eat me or am I gonna trick you into thinking I really am Mickey Mouse?”

Where did Jack-o-Lanterns come from?

Back in the olden days, pornography was not so easy to come by. You couldn’t just plop down in front of your computer and google “lady boobs” to get your rocks off. People had to actually seek out and PAY for porn, and someone had to work very hard to draw that porn for them. This resulted in a lot of people making their own.

But people were private about their porn since worshipping false idols (naked ladies) was an offense punishable by death. Rather than having wood carved vaginas hanging out under their hay mattresses for just anyone to find, they made porn have an expiration date by forging it out of more degradable materials.

Every season had a different porn vessel. In the winter, people drew porn in the snow. In the spring, they planted flowers in pornographic shapes. In the summer, sexual arousal was illegal because it was too hot outside and air conditioning hadn’t been invented yet.

And in the autumn, people carved pumpkins.

Not only were pumpkins plentiful in the fall season, but the glow of the candle inside the orange squash made the vegetable porn viewing experience that much more sensual.

Some of the most popular porn-o-lantern depictions:

-Crooked hoop skirt

-A good harvest

-A fallen handkerchief

-Geoffrey the Blacksmith

-Christian Penance

-Woman with strong back

Do ghosts really get all riled up on Halloween?

No. In reality, the spirit world isn’t a big fan of the holiday because it has so many bad associations with ghosts attached to it. It pigeonholes them as blathering clouds of sorrow who have nothing better to do but hide out in graveyards and scary basements waiting to frighten whoever has the misfortune of coming upon them. They consider the typical white sheet ghost costume to be a base and unflattering depiction.

Ghost activists have been fighting long and hard to divorce ghost culture from Halloween. They’re picketed countless popular Trick-or-Treat neighborhoods and haunted houses. Unfortunately their efforts have gone largely unnoticed by the human population.

Why do witches have pointy hats?

Witches are actually history’s first feminists. See, way back when women were only allowed to sire children, make stew, and sweep their dirt floors with an old-timey broom, they had a hard time asserting themselves. They had to come up with secret methods to subvert and destroy male authority, which ultimately came in the form of magical potions. Some of the bewitched concoctions were simple dick withering salves, while others turned particularly misogynistic members of the community into snails.

Since cars weren’t invented yet and horses were notoriously sexist, witches began enchanting their brooms and flying them to secret coven meetings where they discussed whose crops they would ruin next and feasted on the boiled penises of their enemies. They chose brooms because that’s what they had, and it would have looked fucking stupid to float around in a wash tub or a jar of preserved peaches.

Why do they wear pointy hats? Oh yeah, because they look rad as hell.

What even is candy corn?

The jury is still out on that one, but here are a few popular theories:

- Candy corn is the poop of all the dead people haunting your house.

- Candy corn is all the bits of candy saved from landfills over the year smashed together and repackaged.

- Candy corn is filled with mind-control drugs and distributed by the government to try to sway your vote (it’s not a coincidence that election day occurs the week after Halloween).

What’s the best candy recepticle?

A pillow case. It can hold large volumes of candy and can be easily slung over the shoulder when it get heavy. AND it’s easily washable in the event that some asshole gives you a partially opened Reese’s Cup.

If your mom gave you one of those little plastic pumpkin baskets to put your candy in, she hated you.

Oh, and here’s 10-year-old me dressed as Pikachu:

Note the pillowcase.

Note the pillowcase.

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My plan to save America

The government shutdown may be coming to a close, but that won’t change the fact that the clowns who make all the decisions for us have no idea how to get our country back on track.

I have a 3 point plan that I believe will solve all our money woes and restore American to its former glory.

1. Revamp the Garment Industry

Raccoons are one of nature’s most cunning animals. And yet, we treat them like little criminals. But why? Don’t pretend like you haven’t pawed through your neighbor’s recycling. Lay your judgements and fears aside for a moment.

If a raccoon is skilled enough to open a latched trashcan or jimmy its way through your child’s bedroom window, why can’t it pick up a needle and thread?

With an army of skilled raccoon seamstresses, we could once again proudly put “made in America” on our suit jackets. We could tug at our blue jeans freely, confident that the double coon stitch on the inseam will never give way. We could roam the streets knowing that an entire species of diseased rodents is quarantined in the safety of a sweat shop. And the best part? We could pay them in garbage.

Each year, NASA spends over 8 billion dollars launching shuttles full of dirty diapers to the moon. The nation’s expired hamburger meat is turned into memory foam mattresses. We’ve spent a quarter trillion dollars in the last ten years alone turning discontinued American Girl Dolls into baby food and Silly Putty. And we don’t even appreciate these sacrifices. I say let the raccoons have our waste.

So, next time a congregation of raccoons tries to steal your infant child or disassemble your plumbing, don’t get mad. Offer a thickly gloved hand in brotherhood. Offer that misguided animal a job.

2. Education Reform

Remember your first day of school? There you were, a young, bright-eyed pupil ready to learn what made our country great. You had so many questions. What is long division? Why aren’t Adam and Eve in my science book? How did they make this sloppy joe both delicious and nutritious?

But those were questions that could be answered. Long division is a killer football play. Adam and Eve aren’t in your textbooks because your school is overrun with secular, leftist bureaucrats. The combo of meat, bread, and ketchup in a sloppy joe is not only delicious, but offers a serving from three essential tiers of the food rectangle*.

*After realizing that the food pyramid was a subtle promotion of polytheism, I decided we should phase it out in favor of the food rectangle, a much more wholesome shape.

The real mystery was your teacher. She got to boss you around, tell you what was right and what was wrong, and punish you for speaking out of turn. Yet, at the end of the night she went home and enjoyed primetime television and chicken cutlets just like you. But why? If “all men are created equal,” why does Mrs. Hayberry get to decide who won the Civil War? Not only will my plan knock these know-it-all “teachers” down a peg, it’ll save out country a buck.

I propose that we quit paying these intellectual wordplay-spewers and just let them stay in the school all the time, since they love it there so much anyway. They’ll receive a sturdy Army issued cot and a sleek uniform provided by the American Burlap Industry. And now that we finally have permission to call pizza a vegetable, they’ll eat better in the cafeteria than they ever did at home.

My research firm, Americans Against Overpayed Teachers, estimates that the average teacher earns about $40,000 more a year than the average unemployed American. In his first term as president, President Obama said “teachers” 3,786 more times than he said “terrorism.” We need to act quick before the teachers rise.

3. Put healthcare back in the hands of the American people

Obamacare, or as I like to call it, “Nazi Medicine,” seems to be the hot topic these days. I don’t know about you, but I can’t support any program that takes hard-earned cash out of the pockets of the American people so that single mothers can have all the abortions and diet pills they want. I just won’t have it any more.

The Democrats want to take privatized healthcare back a step, but I propose we take a giant leap forward. I say we put healthcare in the hands of the American people, utterly and completely.

Gone will be the days of the crowded ER on the 4th of July and long waits at the doctor’s office during flu season. When I’m through with this overhaul, there won’t be an ER or a doctor’s office to go to. My new plan is called “Take Care of It Your Damn Self.” Get burned in a nasty house fire? Good thing Aunt Carol studied up on skin grafting last year. Got a leaky valve in your heart? Your plumber can epoxy that right up for you.

I suggest we accomplish this through privatized trade schools where our current doctors can serve as teachers. They’ll be compensated just like our normal school teachers will: minimally.

What’s that? You want preventative care you say? That’s easy; all you need is the power of prayer. It’s estimated that 75% of car crashes are prevented by a combination of prayer and being the kind of straight, conservative American that God wants you to be.

So elect me, Celia Blundo, to be The Great American Overlord.

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