I'll Take "Disturbing Advertisements" for Five Hundred, Alex

Alex Trebek: Embarrassing, vulgar, and unconscionable, this commercial attempts to entice potential suckers with its ludicrous dancing bazooms.

Ms. Lori: What is the bogus breast enlargement exercise apparatus commercial that I saw yesterday but can't remember the name of and can't find mention of on the Internet, no matter how many variations of the words "breast," "exercise," "commercial," and “seizuring bam-bams that move independently of one another” I type into Google.


While watching MTV yesterday morning, I experienced a horrible urge to throw my coffee cup at the screen and yell obscenities, but I, out of respect for my family, suppressed the urge and merely wept quiet tears of hate.

There was this commercial, see, a very bad commercial aimed at "boob-challenged" women (read as "not adequately endowed according to misogynistic American media") that depicted various half-naked ladies “enlarging” their already bountiful bosoms with a product “DEVELOPED BY A WOMAN!” that claims miraculous results in only six weeks. Or something like that. Anyway, the busty broads demonstrated how you too can have enormous boobage by using this incredible “STATE OF THE ART!” machine that was “DEVELOPED BY A WOMAN!” and honestly, it was as if I were witnessing a remote viewing of some thirteen-year-old boy’s masturbatory fantasy, and I did not like it one bit.

The gist of the thing is this: You take the machine, or “appallingly phallic-like stick of foolery” as I like to call it, and you simply push the ends inward, the basic principle being tension = spectacular ta-ta enlargement. However, as most of us know, this is total bullshit. Breasts are made of fat, and exercise, although helpful in strengthening the chest muscles thus producing a sturdier foundation for said fat patties, will not, cannot, ever, ever, ever, increase bust size.

Not only was I dismayed by the extreme idiocy of it all, I was mightily frightened for those dizzy dames, as it was apparent that using this “DEVELOPED BY A WOMAN!” machine had not only caused irreparable damage to their frontal lobes and unsightly muscular growth in their forearms, but also caused their breasts to become sentient beings capable of ungodly feats of wit and daring. As I watched this shocking display of blatant consumer hoodwinking and undulating mammary glands, I was reminded of that old car commercial where the girl sitting in the passenger seat is suddenly overtaken by St. Vitus’ dance and begins pop-locking to the trendy beats blasting from the hawt, hawt stereo -- remember that one? Sure you do. And I’m willing to bet it scared you as much as it did me. Well, imagine a row of double D’s pop-locking to an inane voiceover, just jumping and frolicking about like rabid puppies as their peculiarly calm-faced owners dreamily smile and pretend they don’t look like assholes.

Take it from Ms Lori -- if you’ve never seen a gaggle of over-inflated fun bags seizuring in unison, consider yourself blessed. Well, unless you happen to be a man who might enjoy that kind of thing.

ADDENDUM:The foxy and incredibly talented Ellen Meister tagged me with the Seven Things meme, but I already did this one back in December-- here it is, for those who didn’t catch it the first time around.

I won’t tag anyone because I’m still smarting over the embarrassing lack of response the last time I tagged. And yeah, I’m talking to you SJ. Why, if I had more than three inches of hair on my head, I'd toss it while smirking chimpily and say "So there!"