*Almost.

I thought I saw several commercials I actually liked last night, but perhaps it was a dream. A wonderful dream in which the Overstock.com woman, who I think is in a new one (kill me) badly lip-synching to Christmas carols, gets blown up, along with the Pillsbury Doughboy, Ronald McDonald, Maria "make every shot a PowerShot" Sharpaova, and Paris Hilton. Sweet dreams are made of this.

Ah, no such luck. Well, there were these two:

Could it be that Jack in the Box, another of my main offenders, has finally redeemed itself? I rather enjoyed the new antenna ball commercial when the balls get sloshed by falling into eggnog and Xerox themselves. Naked. "That's just wrong," says the officey type while observing a graphic photocopy of one's ballhole. Deviant-licious!

The Carl's, Jr. "Cow Shake" - jury's still out on this one. At first, I was semi-upset because the cow's udder looks uncomfortably distended, but it turns out that was a prosthetic udder*. Then, I was all ready to call PETA 'cuz I thought the cow was issuing moos of distress (alarm moos?), but later I noticed that Bossie (stage name: Freedom) is actually just chewing her cud contentedly and they dubbed the moos in in post. Perhaps she is enjoying the "massage" (Operation Udder Freedom).

This one is good for maybe another five viewings before I become severely irritated. Well, at least it's not a talking baby...and Bossie's a damn sight finer than Paris Hilton, anyway.

*Apparently, her real udder was not big enough. Typical, Hollywood.