Using Vomit To Sell Automobiles

While watching the Oscars last night, I saw a commercial for the Cadillac SRX Crossfire. It was a pretty cool commercial featuring a beautiful mother, a handsome father, three adorable children, and their nanny. The perfect family. It was stylishly shot with great special effects. The first half of the commercial took place in a kitchen larger than my entire house, while the second half took place in the Caddy.

The music featured in the commercial was The Sunnyside Of The Street by The Pogues which, truth be told, was the only reason I paid any attention to the ad. For most of the commercial, only the intro of the song was played.

Towards the end, the lyrics kicked in. I wasn't really expecting to hear lyrics. Especially these lyrics:

So I saw the train and I got on it
With a heart full of hate and a lust for vomit
Now I'm walking on the sunnyside of the street

The hell? They didn't want to use the "Stepped over bodies in Bombay" or "As my mother wept it was then I swore to take my life as I would a whore" lines instead? Personally, I would've went with the following lyrics:

I know I'm better than before
I will not be reconstructed
Just wanna stay right here on the sunnyside of the street

Much more positive and truer to the image I believe they were hoping to convey. But they decided to go with "heart full of hate and lust for vomit" instead. Now I'm no marketing genius whatsoever nor do I pretend to be. But I would think one would try to shy away from using negative connotations in advertising.

Like the word hate. Because you can't really get much more negative than hate. It's probably not a great idea to use the word hate in your jingle unless you're outright dissing your competitor (like Coke saying, "I hate Pepsi.").

And even worse than hate, the Sunnyside lyric they chose also mentions the word vomit. It might just be me, but hearing the word vomit in a car commercial leaves me with a queasy feeling in my stomach. It's probably not a great idea to use the word vomit in your jingle unless you're outright dissing your competitor (like Pepsi saying, "Coke tastes like vomit.").

And if I was trying to sell a car, I definitely wouldn't use a song where the protagonist spends his time walking or traveling on a train.

So what exactly where they trying to accomplish by using Sunnyside? Maybe they were just hoping the viewer wouldn't be able to understand Shane MacGowan's slurred speech until it got to the "Now I'm walking on the sunnyside of the street" part.

Or maybe they were just trying to market their vehicle to those e-v-i-l upper middle class, Alternadad readin', indie rock listenin', Rebecca Woolf lovin', ironic t-shirt wearin', Babble.com surfin', Bugaboo pushin', babies-in-Ramones-onesies birthin', cocktail playdate hostin', gourmet coffee slurpin' hipster parents the press loves to crucify so much nowadays.

But like I said, I'm no marketing genius.

Song of the day: Common People by Pulp

Stuff Only I Care About XXXV

Linkfest

I'm lazy this week, so this is an all-link version of Stuff Only I Care About. I could write about the Yankees and the sleepovers between Jeter and A-Rod (WTF?), the Oscars (despite the fact I've only seen one nominated movie this year), the Tar Heels (two big wins this past week), or the fact that Andrew Dice Clay will have his own reality show on VH1 next month (WTF? again!). But I'm not. I'm going to bed instead.

Sunday Morning Hangover

Here are some of the more interesting/entertaining posts I've come across this week:

• CroutonBoy is feeling old.
• Danny stops his son's crying on the baseball field.
• Kristen has unwanted guests in her backyard.
• Wendy learns an oversold flight can sometimes be a blessing.

Questions That Need Answered

Some bloggers have a few questions for you:

• Rebecca wants to know when you stop referring to your child as x months old.
• Sarah wants to know when your children became fully potty-trained.

Stuff You Should Be Reading

I'm sure most of you are already reading these sites:

• Kristen from Motherhood Uncensored, Cool Mom Picks, The Mom Trap, and several hundred other places, has launched a new column at The Imperfect Parent. Entitled Mominatrix, it's a sex column for parents. Since she's well known for her no-holds barred approach on her personal site, a sex column from her should be v-e-r-y interesting. Just one request, Kristen: you need to enable comments! You can now comment on Mominatrix. Thanks, Prescott!
• Kristin from Go Go Bimbo! is one of the most talented bloggers out there. She has a very unique voice (though she has been known to use the voice of another). She can make anything seem interesting (and half of the time, over my head). Hell, today she wrote about her dictionary!

Song of the day: Make Me Smile (Come Up And See Me) by Cockney Rebel

It's That Time Again

You know the drill by now. Here are some recent interesting/amusing/demented search phrases people have used to get to my site:

what to do when your bored with a camcorder
Boredom makes you do stupid things. Never document them with a camcorder. Unless you want to be in heavy rotation on YouTube for the next two months.

broken humorous arm bone
There is nothing humorous about a broken bone.
P.S. Learn to spell, dumbass.

my tiny kingdom of sex
Anne? Care to field this one?

biggest prick of all time
My new tagline.

Tales of a Recovering Misanthrope
No, this is my new tagline.

is it ok to have a birthday party at preschool class
You should probably ask your child's teacher and not Google.

valentine day cheap stuff
You could make a Cheerios necklace.

monkey game called monkey pooh fights
I have no idea what this means. But it makes me giggle every time I read it.

top 100 hair band songs of all time
Must resist the temptation to actually compile this list. Unless Sarah does it too.

moron kids that kick there dad in the head
I think in this case it's the dad that's the moron, not the kids.

how to take care of an imaginary cats
Don't bother. Just cart it off to the Imaginary Animal Shelter.

there's no I in team but there are 4 in idiot
No. But there are six in putz.

group sex in the suburbs
In your dreams, pal.

Teach Heimlich maneuver using the hokie pokie
You put your left hand in
You put your right hand in
You put 'em together
And you thrust and thrust and thrust.

Sorry, folks. It's late and I'm punchy.

house of fellatio
Beats the International House of Pancakes, House of Blues, and House of Representatives every day of the week.

would you have wicked game-chris isaak as your wedding song?
Not if I had wanted to remain married.

don't tell mom we killed babysitter
I hope this person was searching for the similarly-named movie.

she's my robot i tell her what to do butthole
Favorite. Search. Ever.

Song of the day: Rat Trap by Boomtown Rats

Thank God I Didn't Buy Her Edible Underwear Instead

Because I am a cheap bastard and Ella digs homemade gifts, Zoey made a Cheerios necklace for Ella for Valentine's Day. Ella has worn it with great pride several times this past week.

Last night we went to Zed's favorite pizza place for his birthday. Because Zoey was tired of hearing "birthday boy" nonstop for the previous forty-eight hours, she ordered asked Ella to wear the Cheerios necklace to the restaurant.

We had a pleasant meal: no tantrums, no spilling of drinks, and no throwing of food. I don't think the other patrons even knew we were there.

Until we were readying to leave, that is.

Ella lifted Zed from his highchair. She held him in her arms while l helped Zoey load all her necessities (crayons, coloring books, ponies, etc.) back into the diaper bag.

And then Zoey froze. I didn't know what was going on. She pointed at Zed and started screaming, "ZED'S EATING YOUR NECKLACE MOMMY!!!"

And that's when all hell broke loose.

Song of the day: King Of Beers by Too Much Joy

The Perfect Gift For A Two-Year-Old Boy

Today is Zed's second birthday but we celebrated on Sunday. We had a low-key family affair at our house.

He had a B-L-A-S-T!!! He was giggling and running around the house the entire time. Ella made little chocolate figurines of Jack, Mary, and Mel from Jack's Big Music Show for his cake.

Zed received lots of cool gifts: dinosaurs, cars, and lots of musical instruments (a harmonica, maracas, egg shakers, a tambourine, a kazoo, basically anything that makes a lot of noise). BOY TOYS! It beats the hell out of seeing piles of pink princess crap.

And he also received a lap harp.

A lap harp, as the name implies, is a harp that rests on your lap. Zed really loves to pluck the strings on his sister's guitar, but it's too big for him to pick up. We really wanted to buy him a ukulele for his birthday, but we couldn't find one at a toy store (we didn't want to shell out the bucks for the real thing because there was a good chance it would have ended up in a million pieces within a month). So we settled on a lap harp.

Something tells me he might be the only two-year-old kid in town with a lap harp.

But that wasn't the weirdest gift he received. The Nap Nazis, who showed up forty-five minutes late (for those of you too lazy to click on the link, they're my brother and sister-in-law who refuse to let anything stand in the way of their child's nap), gave Zed a Bible.

What the hell? Even if I were a deeply religious person, I would be offended because I feel that should be a gift parents should give to their child.

Something tells me he might be the only two-year-old kid in town with a lap harp and a Bible. If you'd like to book him for your next revival, let me know.

Happy Birthday, Little Guy!

Update: For those of you who were interested, we bought the lap harp at Toys "R" Us. It was made by First Act and was around $20. It's very simple (only eight strings (but that's two more than his sister's guitar)) and he loves it. It's badly out of tune (I haven't gotten around to tuning it yet) but he doesn't seem to mind.

Song of the day: I Want Your Love by Transvision Vamp

Just Your Average Friday Morning Freak Out

As the kids and I were cleaning up after breakfast, I could hear Zoey muttering from the other room, "Where is it? Where is it?"

"Where is what?" I asked her as I walked into the living room.

"My bracelet. I put it in my shoe and it's not there anymore."

I freaked out and began lecturing her. I told her if Zed swallowed it, he would choke (he still puts EVERYTHING into his mouth (of course, so does his sister)). So Zoey and I ransacked the house looking for the stupid bracelet. Finally, I called Ella.

Me: Do you know anything about a red bracelet?
Ella: Yeah. She brought it down this morning and put it in her shoe. I put it on the counter when she wasn't looking.
Me: Why didn't you tell me about it?
Ella: I figured she would forget about the bracelet.

So I brought Zoey over and told her that I knew where the bracelet was and explained to her that she couldn't leave items that small within Zed's reach.

Zoey: Oh, I knew he didn't swallow it.
Me: How?
Zoey: I rubbed his tummy and I couldn't feel it. Then I looked in his mouth.

Now why didn't I think of that?

Song of the day: We Are All Made Of Stars by Moby

The Art Of A Great First Impression

Today was Zed's first day of gymnastics.

He did great. He did flips, walked on the balance beam, climbed on the obstacles, and played on the mats.

The only problem? When it was time to do these things, he decided he'd rather do something else. While the class was working on their flips, he was busy climbing the obstacles. When the class was climbing the obstacles, he was playing on the mats. Structure is so overrated.

But he had a GREAT time. He was smiling the entire time and running around the place like a crazy person. He pitched a fit when it was time to leave (of course, he always pitches a fit when he has to put his shoes on).

I, however, did not have a great time because I was feeling quite paranoid. Ever feel like everyone's staring at you? It seemed like every time I looked up, one of the mothers was looking at me. It was probably due to one or more of the following:

1. I'm damn sexy.
2. They're not used to seeing a guy at the gymnastics center.
3. I may or may not have had my fly open the entire time. Unfortunately, I did not notice this faux pas until I was loading Zed into the car.
   

This is why I try to limit my contact with the outside world.

Song of the day: Son Of A Preacher Man by Dusty Springfield

Be My Anti-Valentine

One of my readers, Lani, requested that I post a Valentine's Day Mix Tape. Rather than play it straight and get all lovey-dovey with it, I culled together a list of anti-love songs: songs about unrequited love, songs about getting dumped, and songs about moving on.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

Ten Anti-Love Songs For Valentine's Day

A New England Billy Bragg
I saw two shooting stars last night.
I wished on them but they were only satellites.
Is it wrong to wish on space hardware?
I wish, I wish, I wish you'd care.

Baby Bitch Ween
A beautiful acoustic track. Until you listen to the lyrics.

Can't Stand Losing You The Police
I've never understood why some poppy-punk band hasn't covered this song. Speed it up a little, add a different guitar riff, and you've got the perfect emo song. Do you guys know of any decent covers of this song? If so, please let me know.

D.I.V.O.R.C.E. Tammy Wynette
A classic. I think you can tell by the title why it's included in this mix.

Pink Triangle Weezer
A funny song about unrequited love. Because the protagonist fell in love with a lesbian.

Something I Can Never Have Nine Inch Nails
Is there any Nine Inch Nails song that couldn't be included on this list?

Song For The Dumped Ben Folds Five
And don't forget to give me back my black t-shirt!

Train In Vain The Clash
Another classic.

Wicked Game Chris Isaak
The best anti-love song ever. End of discussion.

You Oughta Know Alanis Morissette
When I first heard this song, I thought, "Wow! Who is this angry woman?" I was instantly in love.

Songs intentionally omitted from this list because they suck:
I Hate Myself For Loving You Joan Jett
I Will Survive Gloria Gaynor
Love Bites Def Leppard
Love Hurts Nazareth
Love Stinks J. Geils Band
The One I Love REM (Most people think this is a love song)
She Hates Me Puddle Of Mudd

Bonus Disc: Four Kick-Ass Anti-Love Songs By Hair Bands

Every Rose Has Its Thorn Poison
Quick! Name a Poison song that isn't named after a cliché.

Everything About You Ugly Kid Joe
My daughter could've written that lame-ass rap near the end of the song.

Hands Off Junkyard
The funniest, bitterest ballad of all time.

Used To Love Her Guns N' Roses
This is one way to avoid a messy breakup.

Feel free to add your favorite anti-love songs in the comments.

Song of the day: Can't Stand Losing You by The Police

Stuff Only I Care About XXXIV

Weekly Random Thoughts On The Carolina Tar Heels

First of all, let's pretend the NC State game never happened, okay?

No. Can't do that. Some say Carolina was caught looking ahead to the Duke game. I don't believe it. NC State played an intense and well-coached game. Sidney Lowe, in his first Carolina game as a coach for NC State, had his team ready for Carolina. He remembers his days as a player for NC State, back when the two teams were actual rivals.

I'm looking forward to the Sidney Lowe Era. It'll be nice to renew the rivalry between the two teams, unlike the Herb Sendek Era, in which his NC State teams went a pitiful 5-17 against the Tar Heels.

Now let's talk about Duke. Carolina looked sloppy in the first half, and found themselves down by ten with a little over three minutes remaining in the first half. But because they were able to constantly substitute players, they were able to eventually crawl back into the game. Even though the freshman were playing their first game in the hostile confines of Cameron.

Because of Carolina's incredible depth (I truly believe their seventh and eighth men could be leading scorers for other teams), it is and will be difficult for any team to stay with Carolina for a full forty minutes. And that's what happened to Duke.

How do those three conference losses in a row and a .500 conference record taste, Coach K? Ha-ha.

I Got Your PTPers Right Here, Baby!

Since I live in the Jefferson-Pilot viewing area, I was not able to listen to Duke Vitale call the Carolina-Duke game. Unfortunately, I had to hear something much, much worse: Billy Packer call the game. Could Packer be any more transparent in his hatred for Carolina? It seemed like every time a Carolina player looked at a Duke player, he screamed that the refs should have called a foul. It was ridiculous.

The only thing worse than hearing Packer call the game would've been to hear Packer and Vitale call the game. I would've had to turn off the volume on the television and listen to Woody on the stereo.

I'll Be Watching

I'm psyched to see The Police perform on tomorrow night's Grammy Awards. I'm hoping they'll perform Can't Stand Losing You and/or Synchronicity II.

I Won't Be Watching

I'm done with The Sarah Silverman Program. I gave it two episodes. Bye, babe.

In A Row?

I'm 37 today. Damn, that feels old. But not as old as it sounds.

I should change the name of this site to Cynical Old Man.

Sunday Morning Hangover

Here are some of the more interesting/entertaining posts I've come across this week:

• CroutonBoy reveals why he'll never have a second child.
• Jonathon deals with one of the worst kind of parenting emergencies.
• Lindsay discovers the alternative to the cocktail playdate.
• Rebecca explains why Moms shouldn't drink.

Song of the day: Happy Birthday by Concrete Blonde

Maybe Her Teachers Are Right

From the backseat on the way to preschool this morning:

"How do cows poop when they got milk in their bottoms?"


Song of the day: Ben by Crispin Glover

I Wish They Tasted Like Chicken

Don't you just love it when you're forced to eat your words?

A few months ago, I wrote about parents holding their children back an extra year to better prepare them for kindergarten and how I was against it. I had a parent-teacher conference on Friday to discuss Zoey's progress.

Guess what? They recommended we hold her back a year.

Her teachers told me that she was very intelligent but they do not believe she's mature enough to enter kindergarten this fall. Apparently, she'd rather socialize than do her work. She worries about what everyone else is doing instead of concentrating on the work at hand. She talks entirely too much. They also cite her late birthday (she would be four when she entered kindergarten).

Damn.

We're hedging our bets. I talked to the preschool director and she said they'd hold a spot open for her in next year's pre-K program. We're also registering her for kindergarten.

I'm really torn here. I see my daughter and know what she's capable of. By the same token, her teachers know what children her age should be capable of. We've scheduled several more parent-teacher conferences and requested regular reports on Zoey's progress.

Time will tell.

Edited: Be sure to check out JayMonster's excellent (and much more eloquent) take on the subject.

BTW, I realize this site has been a den of negativity for a week or so. Hopefully, this will be my last woe-is-me post for awhile. You know it's bad when someone's posting proof of her make-a-fratboy-jealous burping skillz to cheer you up. Much appreciated.

Song of the day: Pretty In Pink by The Psychedelic Furs

Iron Man

Six years ago today, Ella and I exchanged wedding vows. It was a lovely affair and everyone had a good time. Everyone except the members of the bridal party who did not make it to the reception until seventy-five minutes after the wedding ended because the photographer insisted on taking 18,432 pictures.

You know how something always goes wrong at a wedding? Stuff that make people say "One day you'll look back on this and laugh" or "You'll have something memorable to talk about in twenty years."

Just because something is memorable doesn't mean you want to remember it.

Everything was fine until the pastor introduced us to the invitees. "I am honored to introduce you to Mister and Missress…"

Time stopped. I had never heard the term Missress. I still have no idea how to spell it correctly (Missrus? Mizrus? Mistake?). Apparently, it's some old-school Southern word for Missus.

If you watch our wedding video, you can see a strange look come over my face and my head whip back and look at the pastor. But it was nothing compared to the next word that came out of his mouth.

Our last name. Only it wasn't our last name. Sure, it sounded close to our last name, but the first vowel was an a instead of an o. Once again, I looked at the pastor like he was insane.

And one by one, every bridegroom came back to the holding room, shook my hand, and said, "Congratulations, Mr. Halland." Jerks.

But hey! At least we'll have something memorable to talk about in twenty years.

And would you like to know how we spent our anniversary? We tried to have a romantic getaway last weekend, but you know how that turned out. So today, we decided to stay home and take care of Zed who was diagnosed with chicken pox this morning.

Feel free to share any personal wedding-gone-awry stories you may have.

Song of the day: Ballroom Blitz by Sweet

Six More Weird/Unknown Things About Me

Airwick from What I Did Today tagged me with this meme. I've already posted ten weird things about myself. Hell, I think every entry I write on this site reveals something weird about myself. So here's six things you don't know about me. Some are weird, some aren't.

1. I am a very picky eater. I'm probably pickier than most children. I'm definitely pickier than my daughter. I do not eat any Italian food except pizza. No spaghetti, linguini, or lasagna (actually, pizza might be the only food I eat that ends in a vowel). I don't eat ham either. Most vegetables never enter my mouth. I hate cheesecake and coconut desserts. Actually, if a dessert isn't primarily chocolate, I pass. I'll stop now, but I could go on and on.
2. When I pick up the local alternative weekly newspaper at a restaurant, I NEVER take the top copy because that's the germy one. If at all possible, I take the third from the bottom (because you know the bottom copy has been handled as well). If there's less than five copies left, I go without.
3. When I was a senior, I won (Earned? What verb am I searching for here?) a Senior Superlative. Best looking? Yeah right. Most athletic? Please. No, I won Most Original. I think it might've been because I was the only guy in my class with both ears pierced. Or maybe it was the purple hair. Speaking of senior superlatives, do high schools still recognize these awards? I know some schools don't have valedictorians anymore because they don't want to make students feel inferior to others, so I would imagine senior superlatives have been outlawed as well.
   

The next three things are all about my hands. You know you're weird when you can think of three weird things about your hands (with two of them about one finger).

4. The fingers on my left hand are quite flexible. I can bend all of them much farther than the fingers of my right hand. But I can bend my pinky backwards and make it touch my watch. But I don't wear a watch anymore, so the trick isn't nearly as impressive-looking as it once was.
5. I can crack that same pinky at will. I just timed it: I cracked it twelve times in ten seconds. But I don't have to touch it to make it crack; I just bend it a certain way and it cracks. When I get really nervous, I subconsciously crack my pinky . And then I realize I'm doing it and I crack it even more. The next day my finger hurts. I'll probably need to have the damn thing amputated one day.
6. I've always wanted to be a magician but my hands are just too tiny. I love card tricks but my hands are not large enough to adequately conceal the deck. As a result, I can only successfully perform three card tricks. I can cut the deck with one hand, though.
   

I'm tagging one person: Mrs. Fortune. I'm trying to bring her out of retirement.

Song of the day: Brand New Lover by Dead Or Alive