I watch two hours of cable news every morning to get a jump-start on being irritated for the rest of the day.  Even more annoying than the know-it-all and smug pundits, are the commercials shown that early.  Acne medicine endorsed by has-been celebrities, an instrument used to clip the claws of a dog injected with tranquilizers, an invention guaranteed to remove dead skin cells that don’t understand the party’s over, and Shamwow! According to the Shamwow!  spokesperson, it can soak up everything from cat urine to the bile which shot out of my mouth after I watched the next commercial.  It’s seasonal, and has taken over most of the time allotted for selling crap.

Imagine an office where three men in cubicles agonize over what to get their girlfriends for Valentine’s Day.  The actors look nothing like any man I’ve ever seen in an office.  They’re all attractive, which means once the shoot is done, they’ll be racing to pick out the perfect gift for their boyfriends.  The woman are also unbelievable, with their perfect bodies, fake tits and manicured talons.  As a former legal secretary, I can tell you those bitches have never typed a letter.

Down the hall from the mail room appears another gay guy pushing a rolling cart with a box on it.  The box has air holes and I perk up.  Perhaps one of the whores pretending to be a hard-working secretary will receive a Tasmanian Devil which hasn’t been fed in three days.  Those little guys are carnivores, right?

One woman opened the box and squealed as if she’d stepped on two copulating cats.  No crazed and snarling Australian furball emerged.

Cooing like a flock of pigeons planning a shitfest over Congress, the three women bounced up and down while their six newly acquired boobies remained motionless.

“Ooohh!  He is so adorable!”  Each woman’s red-painted mouth formed a perfect O and I began to see where this commercial was going.

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