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Thursday, April 13, 2006
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if you don't get the heebeegeebees or the wimwams or the "eeeks!", i cannot vouch for your common sense.I'm not an easily startled person.
Sure, sure... every now and then I might bring my office to a standstill by tossing my highlighting pen into the air and yelling, "GOD HELP US ALL!" when the fan on my computer decides to start up OUT OF NOWHERE.
But I really don't think that's so much skittish as it is environmentally attuned.
The important thing is that Meg Fowler is NOT a fraidy-cat. Meg Fowler can take the heat in the proverbial kitchen. Meg Fowler can look into the face of fear and say, "Oh yeah? You want a piece of me?" in a fairly hackneyed impression of Robert DeNiro and MEAN IT.
That being said, there are things that make me flat-out uneasy. And I'm going to tell you about a few of them as a sort of public service.
Because if these things make ME uneasy, they're bound to make the average citizen soil their pants.
I'm just saying.
Television ads for pharmaceutical products: TV ads for medication are kind of like M. Night Shyamalan movies. Everything might SEEM fine, but deep down, you know something really messed up is about to happen. They start out with a sad victim of chronic allergies wanting to run through fields of pollen-bearing plants with their tow-headed child or a man sitting sadly on the edge of his bed next to his dejected wife, who is coping with her (inferred sexual) frustration by looking for re-runs of Magnum P.I. on the tube. And then, with the mighty help of a single pill, suddenly things are OKAY! And GOOD! And the hills are alive with music! That is, until the end of the ad. This is the point in the commercial where the announcer reads the "fine print" in a dusky, knowing tone usually reserved for illegal propositions and/or poetry slams. I honestly believe that he reads the same list of potential ailments, no matter what the medication might be: "Side effects from this medication may include, but not be limited to, BY GOD: shortness of breath, headaches, nausea, dizziness, drowsiness, muscle pain, mysterious lesions, soft bones, hair loss, crusty scalp, spontaneous bleeding, unyielding incontinence, rips in your trousers, leprosy, episodic Tourette's, fish breath, and an odd desire to watch re-runs of Taxi until you start calling yourself Reverend Jim." Why -- in the name of all that is good and holy, Mrs. Torrance! -- would you take something to fix a problem that a) appears to cause it again, except via a stronger, less-curable strain, or; b) makes you ooze various fluids without warning, which, (and I'm just taking a guess here) has GOT to be worse than just being a bit... underwhelming in the sack? Just take a damn Advil and go to bed. If that doesn't fix what ails you, it's time to climb on the ice floe and head into the Spring-melting sea to meet your fate. I'm kidding. Female Hosts of Entertainment Programs: They spook me out, every last one, from Dayna Devon to Maria Men-whatshername to Mary Hart to Billy Bush (who is not a girl, but totally might as well be for the crushy crushy way he interviewed Tom Cruise shortly after Mr. Scientology and Silent Birthing went cuckoo on Matt Lauer.) The makeup! That trilling laughter! The bright clothing that works under TV lights! The sincere use of the moniker, "Brangelina!" It's all too Stepford for me. Gatorade: I'll get right to the point: I fear Gatorade. All those neon colours! All that slightly-thicker-than-water-like-blood consistency! All those athletes drinking it and developing muscles that look like a bad case of the hives! It always comes in one of those pop-top bottles for extra sippin' convenience, but after Harold Freiter shot me with a horrible stream of orange-y stickiness from one of those vessels and it LEFT A HOLE IN MY SHIRT, I can't see using Gatorade as anything but a mace substitute. And don't get me STARTED on those waters-with-vitamins-and-crack added to them! Creepy! String Cheese: Why? Why? Why does it need to be stringy? How is stringy appealing? Stringy is BAD. Do you like stringy hair? Stringy meat? Stringy bikinis? Only string should be stringy. Have you ever noticed that if you type the same word often enough, it stops making any sense and you start to wonder whether or not you are, in fact, typing it correctly? Stringy? Is that right? Ack! Now do you see what havoc string cheese can wreak? Reek? DAMMIT. The Odd Feeling That Sharon Stone and Nick Nolte Will Eventually Morph Into The Same Person: Oh, you don't believe me?
 
Now I'm TOTALLY not going to sleep tonight. Gah.
Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts...
1:02:01 AM 
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© Copyright
2006
Meg Fowler.
Last update:
5/1/06; 1:36:03 AM. |
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it is a very sad thing that nowadays, there is so little useless information. ~ oscar wilde today's ooh! item:
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