Today I was listening to Blue Collar Comedy on my satellite radio that they renewed for the next 6 months for a very reasonable price.
I can’t find Laugh USA anymore, which was the station I really liked because the others are pretty raunchy. Many comediennes say the f-word about twelve times in every sentence. In fact, it has become the new “you know.” It’s like the way stoners talk – except substitute in the f-ing word for every “you know:” “Hey dude, man, I went down to the, you know, store and I got some, you know, candy – a whole, you know, lot of candy like I, you know, practically bought out the whole, you know, candy aisle I was so, you know, hungry for a little, you know, something sweet.”
On these other comedy stations, they have announcers or interviewers or comediennes or chimpanzees – whoever is holding the microphone – talking like this, not just in the comedy acts. I’m not a big fan of “you knows.” It’s as if they are deliberating trying to insert the word as much as possible rather than just filling in the pauses with normal rambling while they try to remember what they were saying.
Sometimes they liven the word up by adding “mother” in front of it.
Today, however, I had other irritants on the satellite radio. Namely, commercials. Correct me if I’m wrong (at your own risk), but isn’t satellite radio’s claim to fame the very absence of commercials? Isn’t that why we are supposed to prefer satellite stations over the ones we get for free?
These commercials are awful, too. I think I blogged already about Prolixus – the enhancer that sounds like it will add girth to the male member. I don’t know about you but I’m not sure I want a member the size of a Progresso soup can coming anywhere near me. I was not broke in by a horse, if you know what I mean. Men should just leave well enough alone unless they are dating a porn star. The rest of us, and I think I speak for most women endowed with a normal anatomy, are not too interested in being skewered by an enhanced body part that would make the Jolly Green Giant proud. When we say, “size doesn’t matter,” we actually mean it.
I’m dipping into crude territory, but I had a long drive this morning and got saturated with these comedy stations and their stupid commercials. One very excited man was breathlessly trying to tell me that I had better hurry and snap up a home loan because these interest rates would never happen again in my lifetime. Is he psychic? He kept saying that the government has never allowed such low rates and I’d be pretty foolish not to jump on board and take advantage of his offer RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND, because, as he kept saying, rates would never be this low again in my lifetime. Never ever. Ever.
The commercials are homemade without any fanfare or background music, just someone claiming to be a lawyer or doctor or millionaire telling the public the honest truth about the great deals they are hawking.
I’m going to get to the bottom of this whole commercial thing if I have to call the satellite station administrator personally, except that I live on the west coast and you can only call between 8 am and 11 am Eastern Standard time, meaning that I have to call between 5 am and 8 am. It’s enough to drive you, you know, crazy.