Friday, June 12

Fun With Matrimony, Television, and Heroin, Vol. VIII

SO the Poor Wife and I were watching the idiot box, and one of those Deeply Caring Pharmaceutical Giant commercials comes on, this one for Alzheimer's, which is, in a way, the Cigarette of illness plugging, since they've got to get to you while you're still young, though of course the scale has slid. And so the suitably grey-haired but not superannuated woman is missing her keys, and just can't remember where she might have put them. The matter obviously troubles her deeply. Husband is informed. Husband opens the refrigerator. Keys are inside. Knowing look at helpmeet, still addled. Cue piano.

DR: So that's where I left 'em!

PW: Well, at least there'll be a light on when you go looking for them.

(And look: I rarely lose my keys, anymore, because for the first twenty years of my driving career they could be anywhere. My glasses are a little different story (though still much better than my youth) since I occasionally take 'em off outside for close-up work--I'll never get the hang of bifocals--or put 'em on the wrong shelf when I take a shower, and they'll stay lost until I retrace my steps. If only I would lose things in the fridge! At least you're guaranteed to look in there six or seven times before bed.)

Local news returns, with a story warning parents that their children could be on the smack! It's illustrated with a still of a twisted-off corner of a baggie, filled with white powder, beside a shiny Roosevelt dime.

PW: What's that dime doing there?

DR: It's for scale.

PW: What scale? You mean if you found an ounce and a half of white powder in your kid's pocket you'd decide it was nothing, because the bag was too big?

DR: Okay. Then it's metaphoric. It was a dime bag.

PW: So, what? they couldn't work a horse into the picture too?

(Which reminds me: the news hairdos also notified us this week that Bayer, once a proud member of the fine IG Farben family, was sending samples of its new powdered headache reliever through the mails, so listeners were instructed to relax their steady Homeland vigilance for the nonce, as it is trumped by the Profit Motive. Besides, being so tense all the time can lead to headaches and muscle tension, and where would you turn? These are the same people who went full metal apeshit over shampoo bombs a couple years back.)

4 comments:

Brendan said...

Too funny!

And compliments to Mrs. Riley.

(And doesn't the CAPTCHA seem like something that Big Pharma company would like to sell you next? URELIVI.

Can't decide whether it's supposed to help you pee, help you stop peeing, or just do something about the burning sensation in the midst of it all.)

Anonymous said...

2 anti-steroid adds, each warning of physical decay in young athletes. the first add warns of loss of muscle, limbs, organs and just about all of your parts except for your nads. it does so using a work of creative atrs, a naked, male greek marble w/out head & hiding wang falling to pieces.

the second add also uses the creative arts, in this case some heavy verbal hinting and dodging weaving and on the screen computer animation of various types of BALLS sitting on a lockerroom bench being slowly deflated, down to prune size & texture.

is it me that is stupid?

Mr said...

i think that last comment was submitted by manny ramirez.

Kathy said...

Remember the "This is your brain on drugs!" add that made us screech with laughter when we were teens, and still does?

TV screen shoes egg: "This is your brain...and so forth.

The writers really ought to go back to Sit-Com. Or SNL.