Long winded rant.
I am not your target market.
Get your zit cream out of my face. I don't want your sports drink, I don't want your cool clothes. I don't want your educational morning programming made possible by the good people at Pepsi. I don't want to go to your AOL keyword, or to be told what music I should like, or who is a fake sell out.
Take your soda machine out of my school hallway. I don't need to be told Vanilla Coke is smooth and intriguing by Simon what's-his-name from American Idol, and I don't need a Missy Elliot bobble head doll to tell me that either. Do not shove your slick marketing tools down my throat. If Kobe Bryant really wants me to "OBEY MY THIRST" he'll tell me to find a bottle of water or an ice cold glass of calcium enriched milk. When was the last time YOU saw Kobe Bryant drinking Sprite court side with sweat streaming down his face obeying HIS thirst?
Stop selling your cheap homogenized brightly colored crap. A fucking mini-radio clippy thingy that only plays the 60 licensed seconds of a song will NOT make boys check me out. In fact, the only thing a fucking mini-radio clippy thingy that only plays the 60 licensed seconds of a song WILL do is make me spend more money on the actual CD so I can hear the other three minute and twenty seconds of the goddamn song. Yes, that total song length was a subliminal message.
Stop selling me cute little tampons with swirly bobs on the individual wrappers that I can hide in my hand. Just fucking teach me to be ashamed and embarrassed by my period the normal way. None of this discreet covert "they'll never know its a tampon" bullshit. If I'm watching the same commercials everyone else is hell-fucking-yes they will know it's a tampon in the brightly colored wrapper I clutch in my hand. Dressing it up doesn't make it go away.
Stop pretending Hot Topic sells individu-fucking-ality. If you're shopping at Hot Topic all that tells me is your a Britney Spears CD and a hop-skip-and-jump away from Abercrombie and Fitch or fucking Limited Too. Go buy your fucking Neopets toy, and "Campus Queen" shirt, dumbass. You are not different because you reject the happy shiny people. You are not special. You do not stand out. You and all the other people who shop at Hot Topic are buying your prepackaged "individu[-fucking-]ality" based on careful research on what your buying patterns on. They know if you find a t-shirt of Hello Kitty engaged in BDSM or smoking pot you'll buy it hoping for shock value.
Stop pretending that you're more punk than Avril Lavigne. If you have to prove that you're just trying to reassure yourself you aren't a phony too.
Goddamnit, Disney, stop putting sexual innuendoes in your ads. Your company is NOT for adults. It is for children, and if you have to put innuendoes in your ads to get people to come to your theme park obviously the joy and elation on a kids face isn't enough to persuade parents to take them there. Your commercials should NOT feature sweet faced children unwittingly injecting sex into their trips to Disney fucking Land by saying a song from Cinderella puts their parents in the mood or that their little brother is mommy's little souvenir. If you have to put sex in your ads show two people fucking on Aladdin's magic carpet and be fucking done with it. Assholes.
Shaving my legs does not make me feel like a goddess. Whoever thought up the Venus ad campaign should die a slow painful death. The color pink does not make me feel good, or better, or more feminine. I do NOT think my femininity should be based on whether or not I can coordinate an all pink outfit with pink shoes with my pink wearing friends to drive in my pink fucking convertible car. Sometimes pink makes me want to vomit. I feel more feminine in black, but I know the day they make a black razor or tampon is the day it'll come with a snappy little stereotypical ad campaign about being dark or gothic.
Deodorant does not make me feel strong and beautiful. Axe body spray will not make me hump a mannequin. Body sprays will never replace good old fashioned man-smell that can be achieved by working up a good sweat. Sure, guys, you'll stink to high heaven, but that's the point. Pheromones do NOT smell like "Phoenix," "Orion," or "Tsunami"... "Voodoo" and "Kilo" will NOT give me the insatiable urge to molest you in an elevator. Those commercials with the attractive women getting paid to do ridiculous things to sell you a deodorant spray you don't need are only telling you lies. Don't cover up your delicious man-smell. That's what we want, dammit. If I want manly titled Glade scents I'll go to the room freshening aisle.
Stop sending me your damned fashion magazines. If I want to look at ugly women built like little boys I'll seek them out. Your ugly over-expensive "fashions" and your weird angular hair cuts need not apply. Your models' hip bones could poke my eyes out. Feed them and let them develop breasts and hips. And stop, stop, STOP putting squares of red eye-makeup on their faces. This only makes them look like they've been beaten across the eyes with a strange device.
Stop censoring anime that was never intended for small children. Yes, there are lesbian couples in Sailor Moon. Yes, they are an eensy weensy bit more violent. I'm SURE there are adult things that have been neatly and conveniently edited out of Cardcaptors. Why? Because they needed a cartoon to market specifically to little girls.
Whoa, and while we're at it, STOP bastardizing classic 80s cartoons. These fucking 12 year olds now don't even know what a Popple IS. They HAVE no nostalgia over Carebears and My Little Pony. Stop recycling my fucking childhood, assholes. And no - I won't buy your fucking bastardized Popples plushies. They don't even look like the original Popples.
Stop showing TRL. It's stupid and boring. It has become marketing and sales. It's not viewer controlled, it's company controlled. Street teams are bribed to vote for their favorite artists videos -- special bonus if they make it to retirement. (And oh how the Mariah street team paid me well. I still don't have my fucking charm bracelet. Assholes.) Twelve year olds force feed themselves the same videos on the same countdown for countless days in a row falsely building suspense in their heads hoping that maybe ... just maybe... Avril will beat Christina out for the #1 slot on TRL. As if it fucking matters! Who cares what position they are at, they're still part of the 10 music videos MTV will actually SHOW on a given day.
Stop whining when your favorite underdog band gets popular. You begrudge them a little fame and money because you wanted to feel like a little elite clique in the "know" because you actually knew about them. Now that the whole world knows this band exists you *obviously* have to move on to some other unknown band that's twice as brilliant as the last because they're still unknown, and the sellouts can have their teenies and their money and their cars, right? Fuck you. Why shouldn't your favorite band get paid to let people appreciate their artistry? For that matter, what's your big problem with letting other people bask in their brilliance if they're truly soooo good. Maybe it's cooler to like an unknown band than it is to like a band that broke it big for a couple of singles and then went down in one-hit-wonder history according to the rest of the world, eh? Yeah. Fuck you.
STOP SELLING YOUR STEREOTYPICAL DOLLS. Why is it suddenly these ethnic looking party-girl dolls are so hot? Looks like that slick packaging pays off again. Who can resist the Asian one named Jade with the super-big-fucking-lips, dressed as if she'd going to one of those monochrome photoshoots with her friends where they won't smile, but their make up is perfect. And how about that blonde one who looks just like What A Girl Wants/All I Want Is You era Christina Aguilera? She looks white, but is she? Oh yeah, what's her name again ... Chloe. Hmm. Yep. That's not subliminal association at all. Nevermind the fact that Ms. Aguilera already HAS her own dolls.
You know what I love? Cigarette ads. Actually, the variety of surgeon general's warnings on cigarette ads. Isn't it great how cig ads can CHOOSE what they warn you about? It takes real guts for a cig company to print the whole thing so they get to pick and choose what they warn you about ... carbon monoxide, birth defects, lung problems, but almost never all three at once. Ever wonder why that is? Because if they warned you about them all at once the box would take up too much of the fucking page, freak you out, and discourage you from smoking. We can't have that little white box distracting you from the classic beauty on the camel ads offering you a smoke. She's a cute little thing too, nose piercing, rich dark eyes and vibrant colors on her clothes. Not to mention the fact that she's a drawing. She's not nearly cartoony enough to have anyone on Camel's back for marketing to kids, but just enough eye-candy to effectively do it anyway.
I don't care what your anti-drug is. I don't care what your verb is either. This is just another trend for teens to latch on to, carefully disguised as public service. They need to persuade you to HAVE an anti-drug. Common sense be damned. God forbid you're actually encouraged to think about WHY you shouldn't do drugs as long as you have a reason not to.
Stop teaching abstinence only sex ed. Unless your class is full of little Annette Hargrove clones, teaching abstinence is as good as arming an army with butter knives against machine guns. How much progress is really being made in the world if people are walking around thinking you get pregnant from SWALLOWING. No really, I've actually heard this come out of the mouths of ignorant children. It disturbs me that somehow in their minds they can justify getting pregnant when you swallow sperm and yet everything ELSE that meets your digestive system is broken down by the acids in your stomach. As the professor in "The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe" would say ... why don't they teach logic in these schools? I do wonder what they teach.
Stop asking me stupid questions. I will give you a stupid answer. I don't have time to think up intelligent answers for the wrong questions, and I don't have the energy to flat out tell you how stupid you are for asking.
Just ... stop.
Stop signing your life away for thrills and self-improvement. Stop sucking the fat out of your stomachs, stop injecting foreign substances INTO your lips, stop nipping and tucking and altering. We all end up in the same place, cold, dead, and ugly. It will NOT matter when you're dead whether you were a 32 A or a 36DD. If your genetics intended you to have been stung lips and soccer balls for breasts you would have been born an unnatural looking freak with collagen and saline in your body. STOP ABUSING YOURSELF.
Stop worrying. Stop thinking about all the mindless shit you do to make other people happy, stop running on that stupid fucking hamster wheel waiting for your yogurt treat that makes you fat and kills you faster. Stop waiting for the right person to fall in love with. Fall in love with the wrong people first, its more interesting and it gives you all the more reason to appreciate the right person when you meet them.
Stop watching Lifetime. These movies are designed to draw you into a world where women are always victims who triumph in the end. Stop watching, and start doing. You will not get anywhere in life if you sit around watching Susan Lucci escape her abusive husband for the three-millionth time, in the three-millionth movie-of-the-week where she basically plays the same woman with a different name. Go out and help the real women triumph.
Stop believing movie critics. Stop believing Amazon.com's review of the hottest new CD. Think for yourself. Experiment. Go see the movie Roger Ebert snubbed anyway. Just because he found it to be God-awful doesn't mean you will. Remember that all critics have their biases, you will never EVER get a fair review of ANYTHING unless you experience it first hand. Do not be afraid to say you loved something everyone else hated. Do not be afraid to hate something everyone else loved.
Using hairspray, drinking soda, eating candy, breathing, and going out into the sun will cause you to die. You will die anyway. If its your thing to say cows milk is for cows go ahead, but don't expect me to care. I like the way milk tastes and I'm not about to go nurse from someone's breasts every time I want some. If it makes me fatter, or gives me a cancer, or just plain pisses you off I really don't give a damn. If cow's milk doesn't kill me, the hairspray, soda, candy, breathing, or going out in the sun certainly will. Big deal.
Stop worrying me with death. I'm gonna die anyway.
Just ... stop.
Get your zit cream out of my face. I don't want your sports drink, I don't want your cool clothes. I don't want your educational morning programming made possible by the good people at Pepsi. I don't want to go to your AOL keyword, or to be told what music I should like, or who is a fake sell out.
Take your soda machine out of my school hallway. I don't need to be told Vanilla Coke is smooth and intriguing by Simon what's-his-name from American Idol, and I don't need a Missy Elliot bobble head doll to tell me that either. Do not shove your slick marketing tools down my throat. If Kobe Bryant really wants me to "OBEY MY THIRST" he'll tell me to find a bottle of water or an ice cold glass of calcium enriched milk. When was the last time YOU saw Kobe Bryant drinking Sprite court side with sweat streaming down his face obeying HIS thirst?
Stop selling your cheap homogenized brightly colored crap. A fucking mini-radio clippy thingy that only plays the 60 licensed seconds of a song will NOT make boys check me out. In fact, the only thing a fucking mini-radio clippy thingy that only plays the 60 licensed seconds of a song WILL do is make me spend more money on the actual CD so I can hear the other three minute and twenty seconds of the goddamn song. Yes, that total song length was a subliminal message.
Stop selling me cute little tampons with swirly bobs on the individual wrappers that I can hide in my hand. Just fucking teach me to be ashamed and embarrassed by my period the normal way. None of this discreet covert "they'll never know its a tampon" bullshit. If I'm watching the same commercials everyone else is hell-fucking-yes they will know it's a tampon in the brightly colored wrapper I clutch in my hand. Dressing it up doesn't make it go away.
Stop pretending Hot Topic sells individu-fucking-ality. If you're shopping at Hot Topic all that tells me is your a Britney Spears CD and a hop-skip-and-jump away from Abercrombie and Fitch or fucking Limited Too. Go buy your fucking Neopets toy, and "Campus Queen" shirt, dumbass. You are not different because you reject the happy shiny people. You are not special. You do not stand out. You and all the other people who shop at Hot Topic are buying your prepackaged "individu[-fucking-]ality" based on careful research on what your buying patterns on. They know if you find a t-shirt of Hello Kitty engaged in BDSM or smoking pot you'll buy it hoping for shock value.
Stop pretending that you're more punk than Avril Lavigne. If you have to prove that you're just trying to reassure yourself you aren't a phony too.
Goddamnit, Disney, stop putting sexual innuendoes in your ads. Your company is NOT for adults. It is for children, and if you have to put innuendoes in your ads to get people to come to your theme park obviously the joy and elation on a kids face isn't enough to persuade parents to take them there. Your commercials should NOT feature sweet faced children unwittingly injecting sex into their trips to Disney fucking Land by saying a song from Cinderella puts their parents in the mood or that their little brother is mommy's little souvenir. If you have to put sex in your ads show two people fucking on Aladdin's magic carpet and be fucking done with it. Assholes.
Shaving my legs does not make me feel like a goddess. Whoever thought up the Venus ad campaign should die a slow painful death. The color pink does not make me feel good, or better, or more feminine. I do NOT think my femininity should be based on whether or not I can coordinate an all pink outfit with pink shoes with my pink wearing friends to drive in my pink fucking convertible car. Sometimes pink makes me want to vomit. I feel more feminine in black, but I know the day they make a black razor or tampon is the day it'll come with a snappy little stereotypical ad campaign about being dark or gothic.
Deodorant does not make me feel strong and beautiful. Axe body spray will not make me hump a mannequin. Body sprays will never replace good old fashioned man-smell that can be achieved by working up a good sweat. Sure, guys, you'll stink to high heaven, but that's the point. Pheromones do NOT smell like "Phoenix," "Orion," or "Tsunami"... "Voodoo" and "Kilo" will NOT give me the insatiable urge to molest you in an elevator. Those commercials with the attractive women getting paid to do ridiculous things to sell you a deodorant spray you don't need are only telling you lies. Don't cover up your delicious man-smell. That's what we want, dammit. If I want manly titled Glade scents I'll go to the room freshening aisle.
Stop sending me your damned fashion magazines. If I want to look at ugly women built like little boys I'll seek them out. Your ugly over-expensive "fashions" and your weird angular hair cuts need not apply. Your models' hip bones could poke my eyes out. Feed them and let them develop breasts and hips. And stop, stop, STOP putting squares of red eye-makeup on their faces. This only makes them look like they've been beaten across the eyes with a strange device.
Stop censoring anime that was never intended for small children. Yes, there are lesbian couples in Sailor Moon. Yes, they are an eensy weensy bit more violent. I'm SURE there are adult things that have been neatly and conveniently edited out of Cardcaptors. Why? Because they needed a cartoon to market specifically to little girls.
Whoa, and while we're at it, STOP bastardizing classic 80s cartoons. These fucking 12 year olds now don't even know what a Popple IS. They HAVE no nostalgia over Carebears and My Little Pony. Stop recycling my fucking childhood, assholes. And no - I won't buy your fucking bastardized Popples plushies. They don't even look like the original Popples.
Stop showing TRL. It's stupid and boring. It has become marketing and sales. It's not viewer controlled, it's company controlled. Street teams are bribed to vote for their favorite artists videos -- special bonus if they make it to retirement. (And oh how the Mariah street team paid me well. I still don't have my fucking charm bracelet. Assholes.) Twelve year olds force feed themselves the same videos on the same countdown for countless days in a row falsely building suspense in their heads hoping that maybe ... just maybe... Avril will beat Christina out for the #1 slot on TRL. As if it fucking matters! Who cares what position they are at, they're still part of the 10 music videos MTV will actually SHOW on a given day.
Stop whining when your favorite underdog band gets popular. You begrudge them a little fame and money because you wanted to feel like a little elite clique in the "know" because you actually knew about them. Now that the whole world knows this band exists you *obviously* have to move on to some other unknown band that's twice as brilliant as the last because they're still unknown, and the sellouts can have their teenies and their money and their cars, right? Fuck you. Why shouldn't your favorite band get paid to let people appreciate their artistry? For that matter, what's your big problem with letting other people bask in their brilliance if they're truly soooo good. Maybe it's cooler to like an unknown band than it is to like a band that broke it big for a couple of singles and then went down in one-hit-wonder history according to the rest of the world, eh? Yeah. Fuck you.
STOP SELLING YOUR STEREOTYPICAL DOLLS. Why is it suddenly these ethnic looking party-girl dolls are so hot? Looks like that slick packaging pays off again. Who can resist the Asian one named Jade with the super-big-fucking-lips, dressed as if she'd going to one of those monochrome photoshoots with her friends where they won't smile, but their make up is perfect. And how about that blonde one who looks just like What A Girl Wants/All I Want Is You era Christina Aguilera? She looks white, but is she? Oh yeah, what's her name again ... Chloe. Hmm. Yep. That's not subliminal association at all. Nevermind the fact that Ms. Aguilera already HAS her own dolls.
You know what I love? Cigarette ads. Actually, the variety of surgeon general's warnings on cigarette ads. Isn't it great how cig ads can CHOOSE what they warn you about? It takes real guts for a cig company to print the whole thing so they get to pick and choose what they warn you about ... carbon monoxide, birth defects, lung problems, but almost never all three at once. Ever wonder why that is? Because if they warned you about them all at once the box would take up too much of the fucking page, freak you out, and discourage you from smoking. We can't have that little white box distracting you from the classic beauty on the camel ads offering you a smoke. She's a cute little thing too, nose piercing, rich dark eyes and vibrant colors on her clothes. Not to mention the fact that she's a drawing. She's not nearly cartoony enough to have anyone on Camel's back for marketing to kids, but just enough eye-candy to effectively do it anyway.
I don't care what your anti-drug is. I don't care what your verb is either. This is just another trend for teens to latch on to, carefully disguised as public service. They need to persuade you to HAVE an anti-drug. Common sense be damned. God forbid you're actually encouraged to think about WHY you shouldn't do drugs as long as you have a reason not to.
Stop teaching abstinence only sex ed. Unless your class is full of little Annette Hargrove clones, teaching abstinence is as good as arming an army with butter knives against machine guns. How much progress is really being made in the world if people are walking around thinking you get pregnant from SWALLOWING. No really, I've actually heard this come out of the mouths of ignorant children. It disturbs me that somehow in their minds they can justify getting pregnant when you swallow sperm and yet everything ELSE that meets your digestive system is broken down by the acids in your stomach. As the professor in "The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe" would say ... why don't they teach logic in these schools? I do wonder what they teach.
Stop asking me stupid questions. I will give you a stupid answer. I don't have time to think up intelligent answers for the wrong questions, and I don't have the energy to flat out tell you how stupid you are for asking.
Just ... stop.
Stop signing your life away for thrills and self-improvement. Stop sucking the fat out of your stomachs, stop injecting foreign substances INTO your lips, stop nipping and tucking and altering. We all end up in the same place, cold, dead, and ugly. It will NOT matter when you're dead whether you were a 32 A or a 36DD. If your genetics intended you to have been stung lips and soccer balls for breasts you would have been born an unnatural looking freak with collagen and saline in your body. STOP ABUSING YOURSELF.
Stop worrying. Stop thinking about all the mindless shit you do to make other people happy, stop running on that stupid fucking hamster wheel waiting for your yogurt treat that makes you fat and kills you faster. Stop waiting for the right person to fall in love with. Fall in love with the wrong people first, its more interesting and it gives you all the more reason to appreciate the right person when you meet them.
Stop watching Lifetime. These movies are designed to draw you into a world where women are always victims who triumph in the end. Stop watching, and start doing. You will not get anywhere in life if you sit around watching Susan Lucci escape her abusive husband for the three-millionth time, in the three-millionth movie-of-the-week where she basically plays the same woman with a different name. Go out and help the real women triumph.
Stop believing movie critics. Stop believing Amazon.com's review of the hottest new CD. Think for yourself. Experiment. Go see the movie Roger Ebert snubbed anyway. Just because he found it to be God-awful doesn't mean you will. Remember that all critics have their biases, you will never EVER get a fair review of ANYTHING unless you experience it first hand. Do not be afraid to say you loved something everyone else hated. Do not be afraid to hate something everyone else loved.
Using hairspray, drinking soda, eating candy, breathing, and going out into the sun will cause you to die. You will die anyway. If its your thing to say cows milk is for cows go ahead, but don't expect me to care. I like the way milk tastes and I'm not about to go nurse from someone's breasts every time I want some. If it makes me fatter, or gives me a cancer, or just plain pisses you off I really don't give a damn. If cow's milk doesn't kill me, the hairspray, soda, candy, breathing, or going out in the sun certainly will. Big deal.
Stop worrying me with death. I'm gonna die anyway.
Just ... stop.