Wednesday, July 13, 2005


I cannot take it anymore.

I cannot stand these Jack-In-The-Box commercials. Come on. What has it been, now? 5 yrs? Are people using their antenna balls any more...? No. I hate this sexist, shit-kicking, "America Kicks Ass!" fake-macho corporate dick. He probably cheats on his non-ballheaded wife, too, despite the fact that she almost died in childbirth and had to have an emergency C-section in order to pop out their giant-headed baby. I hate this man. I want to find Jack and break his head.

Okay, so I sort of enjoyed the "Donut Fillet" commercial just because it is nice to hear someone yelling, "enjoy your HOLE!" on network television in this day and age. And the parrots skarking "Ciabatta!" were okay too, despite the obvious CGI animal cruelty.

But that spelling bee one with Jack's wannabe, sideways baseball cap-wearing kid, who is my new Six Flags Guy, spelling "ciabatta" in an extremely annoying, brattish voice makes me want to take out his entire family, slowly and painfully, with an icepick and a butane torch originally intended for making crème brûlée (I hear ping-pong balls are highly flammable.)

But not before beating them mercilessly with a ping-pong paddle while screaming, "TELL YOUR DAMN KID NO ONE, I MEAN, NO ONE SAYS 'PEACE OUT' ANY MORE...!!! DIE you little round-headed freak...!"

Either that, or I'm sending him to work with a stripper named "Shoot-Em Out Sally" in Muskogee, OK.


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