Porn on Television

The following is a commercial that actually aired more than a year ago on television. Please watch it in it's entirety and try not to either laugh or throw up a little bit into your own lap.

Yeah, I know, I know. A friend showed me this clip a while back, and it never gets any easier to watch. It's horrifying, right? No commercial for a children's toy should ever involve a money shot. Period.

What could the marketing department at Super Soaker have possibly been thinking? I'm sure you're wondering too. Well, some people put together a video on YouTube of what they thought it might have gone like. Unfortunately though, given gold to work with, the video falls short of the mark. They even go so far as to call it the "Splooginator." Tell you what, drop the "L" and then we'll talk about what's funny. Good effort though.

Getting back to the marketing meeting, how the hell could you not have seen criticism coming?! They made the substance WHITE for Christ's sake! You're not fooling anyone. At least make it yellow or purple or green so kids think they're shooting alien guts or something at each other. But white? The only way it could be worse is if it smelled like bleach.

I want to know the thought process behind actually creating this gun. "Hey, I know! Let's make a toy for children that you have to pump down at waist level until enough pressure has built up, and then have it aimed and released (or "ejaculated" if I'm not pulling any punches) onto another person's chest and face. Even the guys at NAMBLA were like "Yeah, this is a bit much."

I have no qualms about the overall objective of the gun. You're trying to shoot slime at someone that doesn't want slime on them. That's inherently funny. Always has been. It's like when you were young and you used to throw mud at girls. Or like when you were 12 and you used to EJACULATE ON YOUR BEST FRIEND'S CHEST. Good lord, what were these people thinking!?! I know I've asked that already, but it just continues to defy any type of logic.

I haven't done any further research, but I would assume that this toy has been pulled off of store shelves in an effort not to sully childrens' minds. Save that nightmare for summer camp. It looks like it's back to the drawing board for Super Soaker. I'm not even sure I want to speculate what could possibly be next. All I can say is that it better not shoot warm mud and be shaped like an ass, because seriously people. Seriously.

-The Bean

Did You Drop a Jellybean?

As odd as it may seem, this question evokes a sense of happiness in me. I reminds me of a carefree time in my life where I really had no purpose (not like now, where I'm a very successful CEO). It reminds me of high school to be quite honest with you.
As far as I know, the question was initially coined by my good friend Travis as we would drive around the wonderful city of Idaho Falls constantly complaining that there was nothing to do.

Upon initial examination, the question seems quite simple and straightforward. Did you drop a jellybean? Seems like a simple yes or no answer would suffice, right? The actual meaning goes much deeper than that, quite literally. In order for the question to acheive it's maximum humor potential, you must know the right moment to ask it.

The question in question has nothing to do with an actual jellybean (though it can). Allow me to explain. Have you ever been riding around in the passenger seat of a vehicle and developed an itch? Not an itch on your face or neck or arm, but deeper. Lower. More central. Past the grundle, beyond the taint, to a place of indescribable darkness and sometimes minor irritation. Your undercarriage, if you will. Are we all on the same page here? I think I heard somebody gag, so we must be.

Anyway, the question came from just such an occasion. I "went in" for an itch, and while I had my hand down there, digging away, Travis turned to me and said "Dude, what did you drop a jellybean?" And so it was. From that point on, that became the perfect question for that scenario.

Now, I don't know if any of you have actually ever dropped a piece of hard candy while driving/riding in a car, but where's the first place it goes? That's right. It somehow immediately finds it's way to that cavernous little bird's nest between your seat and your meat. And it always seems like the harder you try to dig around for it, the farther back it makes it's way, to the point where you've pretty much just wiped your ass with a piece of candy. And, let's be honest people, 95% of you will still eat it.

I'm not saying I'm above the law here. I do it too. And really, a jellybean is the only type of food you can do that with and get away with. Chocolate covered candies might melt, cookies or crackers might crumble. You wouldn't smear a half a pint of Haagen Das on your crotch and then try to eat it, would you? Something about the chemical makeup of a jellybean makes that horrid act just slightly less horrid.

The point of this whole story is not to gross you out (though that's like a bonus for me if it did), but to bring back the question. I don't know if you've ever heard it before or if Travis independantly conceived it, or even if he heard it from someone else. But I move that we should bring it back.

Who's with me?

-The Bean

Help the Police!

Okay, so this is more for Russ than for anyone else, but it's hilarious. Evidently, it's from a British sketch comedy show called "Rush Hour." Enjoy it.



- The Bean

Cockfighting

So recently I got the chance to watch some cockfighting videos. After that, I returned them to the video store, paid my late fees, and watched clips of this crazy sport where they breed roosters, attach razors to their feet, and watch them kill each other.

Did you see what I did there?

Anyway, I learned two things from the clips:
1. Jokes about gay porn are ALWAYS funny.
2. Actual cockfighting is ridiculous . . . especially if the other guy is bigger than you are (Seriously, did you really think I could pass up another opportunity for a cheap laugh? If you did, please see number 1 above).

- The Bean

Fred Meyer is better than Safeway

and here's the single reason why:
u-scan self check out.

before you disagree and decide to send me a strongly worded letter (which i probably wouldn't read anyway), allow me to explain my reasoning. now, i've never done drugs in my life (save for the whole wisdom teeth fiasco) and that's something that i'm very proud of. but i swear, whenever i go to the grocery store on a whim, i have the eating habits and random cravings of a pothead.
take tonight for example. i got back from the store not too long ago with an odwalla citrus monster smoothie, a box of snackwell's cookie cakes, and a 20 oz diet A&W root beer.
i know, right?

but what i hate about safeway is that you've actually got to go through a real human person in order to make it out the front door with your delicious impulse buys. and that's the part that sucks. because despite every checkout person's facade of "i hate my life and all things that are a part of it" you know that they silently judge every person that comes through their line. it's one of the perks of the job. i think they even advertise it in their benefits package.

but i don't want people judging me. sure it's fine if i'm on a healthy kick and i actually want people to see me walking up to the checkout line with my lean chicken and frozen veggies and my flax seed and supplements and organic fruits. hell, i'll even make it a point to actively see that people notice my health conscious choices. leaning next to the person behind me and asking "hey, have you ever tried these?" only to be met with "dude, those are almonds. who hasn't tried almonds?" "i don't know. maybe you've got a food allergy or something. anyway, they're pretty awesome. a little protein, good source of omega 3s. gotta watch my carbs." this time only to be met with awkward silence and the eventual " . . . please stop talking to me."

of course, the other 96% of the time when i've decided to forgo a healthy diet "just for tonight," the last thing i want is judgement. especially if i a) don't have a safeway club card (i don't need you or your damn exclusive club) and b) they're assuming something about me that is absolutely untrue.

let me paint for you a picture if i may. i went into safeway sometime last week because it's two blocks from my house. i was hungry. and it was the kind of hungry that demands immediate satisfaction. so i proceed to gather the following items: a digiorno's frozen pizza (cheese stuffed crust), a 20 oz soda (i think diet pepsi jazz or some other totally manly flavor like that, a box of safeway cookies (which i might add are pretty much required if you frequent safeway), a bag of chips, and a pack of gum.
but the one thing that i didn't get? a lighter. why not? well, because even though i needed one (no seriously, it's for this new magic trick i learned. i swear. i'll show it to you if we ever meet), i thought that this particular item would have put me over the top as far as judgement goes in the eyes of the checkout woman. a woman who would have eventually mangled my last name anyway. i just couldn't do it.

anyway, needless to say, i'm like the king of the freddy's u-scan check out world. i'm not like those jack asses that come up with a cartload of stuff (it says 15 items or less asshole) and then decide that it's best if i pay in loose change and coupons. i got my crappy food, my debit card, and my oven already pre-heating at home. now scan your shit, pack your bags, and shove off. i'm hungry.

short lines, no judgement, amen.

- The Bean