Oh ho ho just a few commercials to watch, enjoy & share! ;)

If I’ve learned one thing from the show Mad Men, it’s that I have about three season’s worth of tolerance for the show Mad Men. But let’s assume for the sake of argument that I’ve learned two things from the Mad Men. The second thing I learned is that I have what it takes to be a self destructive bourbon sipping Madison Avenue ad man. Remember when we were growing up, the garbage they used to sell us in between episodes of Duck Tales? It was all the same – pre-packaged after school snacks, featuring helmeted kids on skateboards grinding on rails made of frosting, flipkicking over senior citizens who are screaming that we need to “turn down those darned snacks, somebody could get hurt!” Hey fuck you grandma, these toaster pastries are packed with vitamin eat shit and die. A couple guitar licks, now the grannies are rapping for some reason, and there you have it. Every commercial from our childhood.

There was also an obsession with food being “fun to eat.” This chicken nugget is fun because it’s shaped like a dinosaur. It is fun to eat. I am having fun with my friends after soccer practice because our food does not require utensils or refrigeration. This is fun.

You're gonna like the way you look.

You’re gonna like the way you look.

We’re more sophisticated now, and we deserve better ads. This is where I come in… with my unsolicited ad submissions.

Simplicity is key. Who can forget the “Do you have milk” campaign? “Well, do you?” Neve Campbell’s frothy mustache asked. Then we, collectively as a country replied, “Yes, we have milk,” and awaited further instructions. Here’s where my ad campaign would have taken the milk game to the next level if the brass over at Big Dairy returned my phone calls. I’d go fully Lynchian – It’s a peaceful summer day in a quiet midwestern suburb. The sun is shining, birds are chirping, a newspaper lands perfectly on a front stoop. A man in a robe bends down to pick up the paper, and suddenly the camera is traveling through his spinal cord. At the end, instead of a brain, there is a tall, frosty, screaming glass of milk. Then the scene slowly dissolves to the man drowning in a lake, with pulsating udders superimposed over his thrashing body. The screen goes black, the word MILK? flashes on screen for half a millisecond, then you’re back to watching Modern Family.

Curiously, my next submission was also shot down. I wanted to create a recruiting ad for marine biologists. What if there was a shortage one day, how are we going to get people excited about aquatic discovery again? My idea was a 30 second underwater shot with a gravelly voice at the end saying, “We look at more fucking seahorses before 7 a.m. than most of you assholes do all day.”  Apparently that’s not the type of message the aquatic science community wishes to share with the world, nor is there a need to recruit scientists through tv commercials. Two things I should have thought about before renting $800,000 worth of underwater cameras that were used to film Titanic.

Rejected, again and again. What would the Mad Men do? Oh, probably drink heavily, live a tortured existence, destroy the lives of everyone unfortunate enough to know them in real life, and look great in a suit. I’ve never been more qualified for anything in my life.

You can watch me scream and yell all of my recent posts on AwesomeTalk! It airs every other Tuesday on our YouTube channel, where you can also find past episodes and other psychotic vlog vids.

Could I BE Creating Midseason Replacements… Any… Better?

I read this little number on AwesomeTalk last night. It was a real doozy. A doozy number. You can relive my experience by reading it aloud yourself. Try it!

Could I BE Creating Midseason Replacements… Any… Better?

Midseason TV replacements are a great way to wipe the slate clean. Sure, we all thought a new sitcom starring Matthew Perry as a hot air balloon repairman was going to be a huge hit, but audiences just weren’t ready for Could I BE Repairing Any More Hot Air Balloons? Not to worry, NBC can just quietly cancel it and puke up some other bullshit to take its place – cheaper, less risky midseason replacements. Something quick and easy like, oh I don’t know, how about…

Mouse House, Mondays at 9pm on NBC – Two recently widowed gentlemen are forced to share an apartment, and their lives are turned upside down by a family of animated mice that live in the walls. An unstable, stuttering neighbor that never wears shoes adds to the hilarity. Their landlord, also animated, constantly insinuates that the neighbors are gay, and also helps the gang solve mysteries. Oh right, I forgot to mention – the mice and the two guys, and the shoeless, stuttering neighbor solve mysteries for some reason. And also breakdance.

No good? OK, how about –

Don’t Stand There!, Wednesdays at 10 pm on A&E –  We’re done with Hoarders. But we still need a way to exploit the mentally ill for our amusement. Don’t Stand There! is a new game show from the people that brought you Hoarders, and the rules are simple – spend 5 hours inside a house filled with garbage, and find a place to stand. A certifiable crazy person will let you know whether it’s safe for you to stand there or not. Whoops, looks like you’re standing on the hoarder’s duffle bag full of USB cables, that’s a no-no zone! You just lost 100 points and now a confused, stammering maniac is reading you the riot act. “DON’T YOU STAND THERE, YA HEAR ME? THIS MY HOUSE. THIS MY HOUSE AND YOU DON’T GET TO STAND THERE.” Much like the Game of Thrones, when you play Don’t Stand There! you either win or you suffocate to death under a pile of garbage.

Don't stand there. Or there. That's my favorite pile of cat turds you're standing on.

Don’t stand there. Or there. That’s my favorite pile of cat turds you’re standing on.

Looking for a healthy dose of reality? Bravo’s got you covered –

American Muscle Jerks, Monday through Friday, 24 hours a day, only on Bravo – If you’re like me, you want to watch the day-to-day shenanigans of old tyme throwback soda jerks, serving up vanilla cokes and smiles. Also, you want the soda jerks to be steroid-abusing, testosterone-dripping muscle-bound freaks. Follow Anthony, Trab, Flint, Bonesaw, Lil’ Pounder and the rest of the gang as they run New Jersey’s hottest sodee fountain slash gymnasium. Every episode will feature at least 20 references to “jerking it,” guaranteed. What else will happen? Who gives a shit, just look at these adonnesis! Put some creatine in your milkshake and stop hastlin’ me ya fuckin’ pipsqueeks! And if you like the American Muscle Jerks, you’re going to love The Real Housewives of the American Muscle Jerks. 9 women, all named Brandee, all selling their own brand of flavored water, all constantly pummeling each other.

I’m ready to write, produce, direct, and star in every one of these masterpieces, so please call your local cable providers and DEMAND that these shows get made.

@virginia_1889 yes there is an @aplusk #nikoncoolpix

A husband and wife are huddled in front of a crackling fireplace placing index cards around a model size replica of their dining room table. “So, I think my mother and father will sit on the side furthest from the kitchen, next to Uncle Robert and the orphan twins.” says the wife, meticulously shaping the index cards to size. “You’ll be at the head of the table because you’re the man of this house and this is your special day. I know how much you just love the holidays.” With a red and green pen, she alternates the colors of the letters in Uncle Robert’s name. Red U, green N, red C, green L…

He leans over to kiss his wife on the forehead and asks, “More marshmallows, dear?” Just outside, a light dusting of snow punctuates their perfectly tasteful nativity scene; the footprints of carolers slowly disappearing beneath the angel dandruff. The husband adjusts the belt on his almost-too-big robe and watches Mr. Henderson hang another row of icicle lights from his roof. He’ll have to remember to compliment him on another marvelous holiday display. You did it again Mr. Henderson, you old so and so!

Bag of marshmallows in hand, the husband returns to the floor in front of the tiny dining room table. “Finished!” exclaims his wife. “Another perfect holiday dinner party, coming up!” He nods in approval, admiring the table’s fine craftsmanship as well as his wife’s penmanship. A bewitching smirk crosses his wife’s face as she picks up the remaining blank index cards and glitter vials. “You know honey, we still have two seats left. What if you could wish upon the star that lead the three wise men to the newborn king? And with that wish of all wishes, you could have anybody, anybody in the world, join our holiday dinner party. Who would you pick?”

The husband runs a hand through his wife’s hair and ponders this holiday riddle. “Anybody in the world? My dear, I thought you’d never ask. I wish I may, I wish I might, that both Kim Kardashian and Jennifer Aniston would join us that joyous night!” He playfully taps her on the nose. “Boop! Here let me help you wi-” His sentence is interrupted as his wife throws the miniature dining room table and accompanying index cards into the fireplace.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU TREVOR?” The flames of hell reflect in her eyes as the names of their family, friends and all of the orphan twins turn to ash. “Are you fucking serious right now? Here’s an idea, why don’t we sit some of your porno girls next to gram-mem! They can shake their tushes in Trevor Jr’s face while he says the Lord’s Blessing! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?” She storms off to the kitchen. He can hear drawers violently opening and closing and she rummages for the keys to the liquor cabinet.

He chases after her. “But honey, don’t you remember when the man from Reuters called me at the office and asked me to participate in that holiday dinner poll? My answers are firmly in line with the rest of America!” With a warm smile he puts his hand on her chin. Their eyes meet and he calmly says, “Now, why don’t we try to save what’s left of the miniature dining room table and your delightful index cards and call it a night, ok?”

Have a holly jolly Christmaaaaaaaghhhhhhhhhhhhh

She snaps her head away from him and takes a large gulp from a bottle of scotch, now free from its triple locked cabinet. Wiping her lips with the back of her hand before taking another large gulp, she says,”You take your fucking hands off me and you get the fuck out of this house.” He knows he’s lost. There would be no braised goose or razzleberry dumplings or sweet apple gravybutter for Trevor this year. She has that look in her eye that says, “Trevor, you won’t be getting a second helping of shoe-fly marmalade for your freshly baked pfeffernüsse this holiday season. I’ve already filed the papers for our divorce, and I’ve written ‘Trevor’ on a new index card, crossed it out, and wrote ‘Jay Leno’ instead. He’s the funniest man in America, and he’ll be sitting right next to me. Forever. I hate you.” Her eye was so expressive.


Hey folks, John here. I hope you enjoyed this year’s very special holiday update! Can you believe people actually want to have dinner with those yahoos? Rachel Ray? Who is that even? Charlie Sheen? What, the dope addict from television? Yeah right! But seriously folks, I hope you all have a wonderful (and SAFE! hehe) holiday season! We had a lot of laughs this year, didn’t we? Oh boy. Yup. Good, uh… good times. Well, hey, don’t let me keep you. I’ll see you… next year! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha holy shit


Unlikable comedians starring in Saturday morning cartoons.

Huh, that’s weird –

Wait, what the

Nope nope nope nope nope nope

Rutgers University Presents: The State of the Snooki Address

Jersey Shore starlet and World Wrestling Entertainment representative Nicole “Superfly Snooki” Polizzi was paid $32,000 to speak at my alma mater (teh school I gradeuated in). The world is not happy about this because she has a hard time forming sentences without falling down, and a mandatory student fee paid for her appearance. So, maybe you wanted your student fee to pay for a more thoughtful speaking engagement from the guy that stars in the Old Spice commercials or Jesse Camp or Puck – tough shit, listen to Snooki instead.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I went to the Newark flavor of Rutgers, not New Brunswick where this all took place. During my four years at the Newark campus, I think we had one celebrity guest – Jurassic 5? Maybe? I don’t know, I didn’t go. Also, slightly off topic – around the corner from my campus was a store that sold nothing but Naughty by Nature shirts. 10 years ago.

So, we all paid $32,000 for this shit and we’re very upset about it. What advice did Snooki have for her audience of backwards hatted bros and girls that still dot their i’s with arrow punctured hearts? Please be forewarned, whatever happens in this next indented paragraph will be met with ALL CAPS COMMENTS ABOUT THE WORLD ENDING.

Snooki and her sidekick, comedian Adam Ace, brought eight students on stage to teach them the “Jersey Shore” fist pump and her signature “tree branch” dance. Snooki also judged a “Situation” contest to see which of five male students had the best abs.

When asked her inspiration in life, Snooki said: “Being tan. When you’re tan, you feel better about yourself.”

Snooki said she had partied at Rutgers before, but the details were hazy. “I’m pretty sure I came here. I don’t remember what happened,” she said.

Her parting advice to Rutgers students: “Study hard, but party harder.”

This is all your fault. You are the reason we are where we are today. You shot 10,000 reality star memes out of your nose and into our homes. And get your FILTHY HANDS OUT OF THE PEANUT BUTTER.

NO! NO! I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS! DID YOU READ WHAT SHE SAID!? I have half a mind to complain about this on the internet! commenting all-star “njjammer,” summed it up with a level-head when he or she said, “Quiet! If you listen closely you can hear the galloping of the horses carrying the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse. Money well spent Rutgers!” njjammer is right. Horsemen are carried by horses. And also, Rutgers should be spending money on moats, catapults and archers to fend off said horse-riding horsemen on horseback. If I got a phone call from an undergrad soliciting money for the “Rutgers Apocalypse Defense Fund,” I’d be all over that shit. “We need swords that shoot flames when you thrust them into the air, sorcery lessons and enchanted talismans, and if you could just donate $100 we’d greatl-” SOLD.

I don’t think Snooki’s appearance is a sign of the apocalypse. Reality show stars are in-demand right now, and people like to give them money to say dumb things. Donald Trump is talking about running for president of the United Fucking States, solely on a platform of “The current president is a black, so…” and people are thoughtfully stroking their neck folds with the words, “I agree with the man on the teevee,” drooling out of their mouths. And you’re going to blame Snooki for capitalizing on the unquenchable thirst for dumb people saying things? If Charlie Sheen was a meme when they were booking this event, they would have gotten him instead because #winning #crazy_words #oh_man_remember_when_he_said_winning_before_lololololololol.

So, really, all I’m saying is, don’t blame Snooki. Blame yourselves! Blame Puck! Blame everyone but me because I’m exempt from scrutiny! You made these people popular, and now they want more of your money. Speaking of which, I’ll come to your school with an overhead projector and we can watch my favorite Youtube clips and hold hands and I’ll teach you how to fist pump for only $20,000 if you mention coupon code “HAHAFARTS11.”