I should really just learn to be more patient and then these horrible things will not happen to me.
I watch teevee. Mostly, I watch movies on my teevee, but I also watch comedians doing comedy, and comedians doing the news, and cartoons, and scifi shows. My willingness to watch channels that are not fancy pay movie channels means that I have to watch commercials. I do have a dvr, but I am kind of way too impatient to go do something else for fifteen minutes while the program I want to watch is on so that I can fast forward through the commercials. Thus, I am sometimes stuck watching advertisements for various things. Mostly snacks and male virility products, because APPARENTLY, ladies do not enjoy watching Star Trek re-runs or Louis C.K. or ATHF. We prefer to watch programs like OH HOLY SHIT MY HUSBAND IS SLEEPING WITH MY DAUGHTER’S DOG AND ALSO I HAVE ANOREXIA AND A MURDERER IS TRYING TO GET ME BUT I WILL PREVAIL BECAUSE I AM A WOMAN AND HEY LOOK THIS DUDE IS SENSITIVE YET MUSCLEY AND WILL RESCUE ME YAY LIFETIME.
By the way, because I was ON a show that aired on Lifetime, I have a lifetime(ha!) pass to make fun of it as I choose. Because those dummies put food commercials on a fat people teevee show. Good job, guys. Also, what the fuck. I don’t like cleaning my house that much, so please stop showing me commercials about disposable mops and tide and window spray and shit. Fuck that noise. I’d like to see commercials about robots that will handle that work for me while I am out here in the world, doing awesome shit. WHY IS THERE NO DISH-WASHING ROOMBA YET?
So, the other night, I was watching some male-oriented show, and then there were some male-oriented commercials. Like three tequila commercials, and one about a fancy car, and then this shit happened to my eyeballs and I died. Literally. I died. Okay, no I did not literally die, and while I find that horrifyingly skinny woman highly amusing and she is pretty good at choosing outfits, she needs to cut that shit out of her vocabulary and not say it anymore. Because of that time on her show when she actually almost died. It isn’t funny anymore, baby. Eat a sammich. I promise you won’t end up on fat girl teevee on Lifetime. Promise. Kay?
There was a commercial for what is maybe the best product ever invented. It is a tank top, for men, and it has these little squares of super lycra fabric on the spots where the abs would be if you had abs, but you need this shirt so you clearly don’t have abs. Here’s the thing, though: You are LYING. This is why I do not wear shapewear. Because it is a LIE. Okay, Now I’m lying. It is because that shit is unfuckingcomfortable and makes you sweaty, and if I wanted to be uncomfortable and sweaty, I’d go work out at the gym. Wait. I do that. And I do it in fucking cotton, not triple thick death spandex. And because I am not wearing shapewear, I have enough breath left over to complain about how sweaty and uncomfortable I am, which I am pretty sure shapewear does not allow for.
Well anyway, the gym has one important advantage over shapewear, and it is this: that Manly Ab-creating tank top might seem like a good idea, maybe even a great idea. Only what if your belly is so epic, so beautiful, so round… that the tank top might not quite work out the way you’d hoped, and instead of sexy fake abs, you end up with terrifying randomly placed squishy bulges all over your belly, and that lady you were trying to impress is all “Whoa. Nice hernia. You should get that looked at.” Because I am pretty sure that is what is going to happen. And you might end up with a hernia, too. Or maybe one of the blorbs of chubbiness will squish itself into the little squares and there will be a horrible elastacine incident and it will have its blood flow cut off and you’ll then have a weird looking skin blarb that hangs off of your belly. No-one wants that.
I tried to find a video of this awesome commercial I watched, but I couldn’t, so instead here is this guy’s blog: http://www.undershirtguy.com
I bet you didn’t know that there was a dude who has a blog all about undershirts, eh? You do now, bitches. You do now.