I Just….Wait, What?

So college basketball is happening right now, but every single part of that is secondary to this commercial I saw during the Oregon-Saint Louis game: FarmersOnly.com. A dating web site made for…farmers. Specifically farmers. MOTHERFUCKING FARMERS THAT CANNOT MEET OTHER FARMERS IN REAL LIFE, APPARENTLY, SO THEY HAVE AN ENTIRE DATING SITE DEDICATED TO THEM.

I’m all for serving niche markets, but, you know…usually in the form of SNL sketches or something. The best part about this ad is that the entire 30 seconds is jam-packed with awesomeness. You have references to God creating the universe in seven days – and then making farmers on the eight day (w…what?), and then farmers getting lonely (w…w…come on now) on the ninth day. You have a series of incredibly gorgeous people, none of whom are ACTUALLY farmers, wearing patronizingly stereotypical farmer apparel. And best of all, the entire premise here is that MOTHERFUCKING FARMERS CANNOT MEET OTHER FARMERS IN REAL LIFE, APPARENTLY, SO THEY HAVE AN ENTIRE DATING SITE DEDICATED TO THEM.

I just…man. This is honestly one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever seen. Match.com is fine. ChristianMingle.com is niche, but a pretty big one, so whatever. But this? THIS?? I…I almost literally have nothing more to say, since I’m still stunned by this.


I Just….Wait, What?

“Aladdin, But Without the Bad Parts”

(Image Via)

One of my favorite co-workers has a daughter that was recently in a school play. I asked her which one, and – as astute readers might be able to guess by now – she said “it was Aladdin, but without the bad parts.”

Now, I’m not exactly known for having delicate sensibilities over here, but per my memory there’s really nothing in Aladdin that would need to be censored for a grade school audience. That’s when she told me this: “Yeah but I mean like, there’s no Jafar parts or anything, it’s just like, a love story about Aladdin and Jasmine.”

No Jafar parts. No parts with Jafar, the main antagonist in the film, the one character who drives every single bit of dramatic tension and conflict in the entire thing. Without that, it’s just a pointless, tensionless love story with a guaranteed happy ending. I mean, I know it’s a grade school play, I’m not expecting Arthur Miller here – but Christ on sale, I’d at least hope for better than Nicholas Sparks.

Anyway, here’s a quick list of other famous stories that have been similarly sanitized, in case anyone else wants to put on a grade school play:


  • Romeo and Juliet, but the Capulets are family friends of the Montagues
  • Death of a Salesman, but without the whole “salesman committing suicide” parts
  • Waiting for Godot, but Vladimir and Estragon just head home after 15 minutes of waiting
  • Glengarry Glen Ross, but Shelly makes like five big sales in a row and drives off in his new Cadillac
  • The Lion King, but Mufasa survives his fall and Scar is forgiven after he apologizes and claims he learned a lesson
  • Julius Caesar, but the conspirators’ plot is to throw Caesar a surprise party
  • Oedipus, but Oedipus sends his mom a nice Mother’s Day card and stays home alone all day



“Aladdin, But Without the Bad Parts”

A Quick Exchange I Just Had

The (ab)use of the “this post sponsored by whiskey” tag on this blog isn’t an accident – much of my writing is determined by getting the creative juices flowing. It just so happens that “creative juice” is literal, in my case, and it represents whiskey.

With that, I present to you the transcript of my chat with the guy I just met at the liquor store:

JSG: Hey man, how’s it going?

[JSG hands liquor store employee (Cashier) a bottle of Buffalo Trace]

Cashier: Good, man. Nice choice of bourbon.

JSG: Thanks. I’ve been trying to get more into bourbon lately instead of Canadian whiskeys. [Pauses] Because…well I was gonna say I was raised on Canadian whiskey, but I realized how bad that would sound.

Cashier: [Laugh] I know right? Like “It’s cool, my parents are from Portland, so it’s expected.”

JSG: [Laughs] Yeah I mean, I’m not gonna lie, living there taught me a lot about booze in particular.

Cashier: Wait…are you actually from Portland?

JSG: Ha yeah, I figured you said that as a joke, but it turns out that’s…actually true. This probably isn’t helping my case any, is it?

Cashier: Dude do you watch Portlandia? That’s like my favorite show right now.

JSG: [Being polite] Yeah I’ve seen a bunch of them. It’s really not bad at all.

Cashier: Cool, man. Do you need a bag?

JSG: Nah, I’d rather not waste the paper.

Cashier: Much respect…ah, I get it. Because you’re from Portland. Need a receipt?

JSG: Didn’t we JUST go through this?

[Exeunt All]

Aaaaaand scene. The moral of the story: I have a new fifth of Buffalo Trace! Jealousssssssss?


A Quick Exchange I Just Had

Dear Food Network: Let’s Tone Down the Hyperbole Just a Little


As someone who is entirely responsible for feeding himself, I’ve found I really like watching Food Network. They’ve got plenty of quality shows that offer inspiration of things you can make yourself, you can learn plenty of good cooking habits and kitchen tips from their huge roster of chefs – and shit, when you just want to go out and find a great local place, they’ve got shows that help you with that too.

That said, it’s not like the channel is nothing but rainbows and unicorns here – there’s plenty of things I hate about it as well. Most notably: Cupcake Wars. Fuck Cupcake Wars right in its stupid face. (I actually wanted to make that the title of this post, but I felt like I should build to that).

The YouTube video embedded above is the promo they’re currently running for the 2013 season of the show, and the pseudo-drama starts building immediately. Manufacturing tension in your show isn’t a new concept – reality shows have been doing it for years now – but they do know this is a show about people who bake MOTHERFUCKING CUPCAKES, right?

As if the entire concept of calling a baking competition a “war” wasn’t bad enough, the commercial closes with this line:

“The battle for cupcake domination will be legendary.”

Read that again. Go ahead, I’ll wait. It’s only eight words, it shouldn’t take you long unless you’re Jenny McCarthy.

Not that I really need to, but let’s break this sentence down a little further:

  • “The battle” — We’re only two words in and the hyperbole has already started. I don’t mind this so much, since the show is technically a competition and all, but it’s a pretty inauspicious start.
  • “For cupcake domination” — You read that right, folks – cupcake domination. I honestly don’t think it’s possible to pick a less intimidating subject to build this level of drama around.




I mean, honestly. This would be like if the Puppy Bowl started promoting itself like it was motherfucking Game of Thrones.

  • “Will be legendary” — Aaaaand this kicks the whole sentence up like 500 more notches. Not only is this cupcake-baking contest already inappropriately dramatic, but we’re promised that it will be legendary. I mean, Christ, not even the NFL pimps the Super Bowl this crazily (!)


So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. I don’t think I’m out of line in saying that this is the most ridiculously hyperbolic thing in the entire human history of existence.

(Squid cupcake original photo via Spoonful.com)


Dear Food Network: Let’s Tone Down the Hyperbole Just a Little