Tonight we watched The Mutant Chronicles, which is a movie based on a table-top game J.D. used to play. My favorite part was the Netflix description that started with these four magical words: "In a futuristic world. . . ." OK, you KNOW you're in trouble when you read that! At first I read it normally, but then, I just had to reread it in my best impersonation of the dramatic-movie-guy's voice.
Also silly today: I was on the elevator leaving my doctor's appointment. A man got on when it stopped on the second floor. There are three levels to the parking garage: G1, G2, G3. The man entered and stared for a long time at the elevator button panel. Then he turned to me and asked: "Where's my car?"
I politely indicated that I didn't know. He pushed all three buttons and said he would just explore each level. I waited until I was outside before giggling.
Also of great absurdity: All pregnancy magazine ads. I can't believe the stuff people think they need. Take for example this ad:
So the message here is that it's just consumer "lust" if you buy a $149 hospital gown but a "must" have at $50? Perhaps even more disturbing is the entire underlying message that a woman must be concerned first and foremost about her looks, even while giving birth: "looking good just feels better, doesn't it?" Sure, when I'm in labor I'll really care about the print on my hospital gown. Never mind the fact that your most personal parts are on display. . . you should care about what floral pattern you're wearing!
And then there's this delightful number advertising a breast pump for every glamorous socialite. I won't even go into my criticism here:
1 comment:
I have one word.....cree-pay!
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