Just Sittin’ Here

It’s Saturday morning.  Two of us are up and learning about the finer points about various dog breeds on Animal Planet. I don’t know why it is, but every time I get caught up watching Dogs 101, I can’t help but to whack nostalgic about the different dogs I’ve had the pleasure to have had in my life.  If my count is right, I’m up to 8.

 

But the doggies aren’t really what inspired me to break out the phone with the gumption to navigate the virtual keyboard with the goal of dispatching more verbal brilliance to the Internet.

 

Instead, it was one or the commercials I saw this morning.  All things being equal, I wouldn’t expect diapers to be a product to advertise on such a show, but who am I to identify the target demographic of the good people at Luvs?

 

None the less, the animated commercial at hand involves a contest between three babies on a stage in front of judges.  The goal is to see which baby can fill their diaper the most without producing leakage or overflow.

 

 

I remember when condom commercials where the outrage of the day.  Now they advertise them along with assorted jams and jellies which have been designed to make the practice of unga-bunga as intense as possible, complete with a burning sensation.

 

There are special razors made for the ladies to be used in a variety of areas.  The assorted shrubbery in the commercials for these little gems are tasked with delivering the message without even making a mention to the sphynx.  That’s right.  They missed one.

Don’t forget the little blue pill which has helped it’s investors reach untold heights hand over fist.  Those get advertised too.

 

Regardless of the trail blazing mentality that these commercials exude in order to make whatever buck it can on the activity of our collective lady and man parts, ad executives appear to have gotten bored with pushing the edge with previously taboo subject matter.

 

Instead, they’re moving into poop.

 

This diaper commercial, ladies and gentlemen, is continued proof to me that there are no more sacred cows in the current generation of idiots (mine) which are running the media.  One can only guess what’s next.

Randy Tharp

TharpSter is a husband to one woman, a father to two kids, a master to two dogs, an occasional cubical occupant, and unable to make up his mind on an adequate theme for this website.

Type something witty and eye catching right here: