Robin Williams joked during one of his machinegun, manic monologues that the French invented the concept merely to prove how superior they are to the Americans.
Were I ever to write a song about it, I would cover that old Dire Straits ditty with the lyrics slightly changed. ‘Nothing for Money, and nix is free’
I am about to descend into the subway station when Jennifer Aniston’s beautiful face is suggesting all kinds of carnal pleasures to me while she is holding up a bottle.
A cocktail of thoughts and emotions swirls through my head, lust, of course, being the main ingredient.
Besides that obvious reaction to seeing a naked, well-photographed woman, I wonder why she does it; sell herself to a company by pushing their product. She is already filthy rich; why not write a book or go to the park or play with your cats instead ?
I guess my broke ass will never understand the ways of the wealthy.
The Company’s marketing execs have spend many hectic days trying to decide who would be the best ‘spokes person’ for their product and what their fee would be.
The millions that miss Aniston is raking in for giving me a boner during my evening commute are eventually paid, of course, by the consumer.
The odd thing is that the product in question can also be obtained, for free, by standing outside on a rainy day and merely tilting your head back and opening your mouth.
These thoughts bounce through my head before I enter the subway station and a final dash irony tops off the cocktail when I contemplate the brand name of the water that people are forking out $ 2 for.
It is called Smart water.
The subway car smells, like someone has pissed in it. Someone probably has.
The large add in the subway car features a woman with one of the least sincere smiles I have ever seen. She is not even trying. She merely pulls up lips to reveal as much of her teeth and unpleasantly large gums as possible and her eyes don’t bother to join the smiling activity.
The woman is called Lisa Nichols and she is a motivational speaker.The book she is selling is called : ‘You can overcome anything, no matter what’. Those last three words are presented in enormous font.
I want to meet this woman, and punch her repeatedly in the face.
If I were less irritated I’d still want to meet her and ask if her method also works for holocaust survivors who had to betray their fellow prisoners to make it out alive and have since developed some sleeping problems.
I hate the bitch, but then I realize that she is nothing special. She’s just another worthless whore in the capitalist gangbang, trying to make buck by loudly, shamelessly proclaiming the bloody obvious.
She is ‘a rock star of personal growth’ according to Stephen Coffey, the grand daddy of the enormously lucrative industry of vacuous piffle.
There are two other people on the add also endorsing Lisa’s book. They too are motivational speakers.
I can see how this bootstrapping thing works and how you can invent nothing out of nothing and make it into a new self-sustaining industry.
It reminded me of the disgusting media hype over that barely talented nitwit who was buried in a golden casket last week.
A golden fucking casket ! and his pal bearing brothers had the good taste to wear a shiny, glittery, kitschy glove on one hand.
His sister Janet, who for reasons unknown keeps telling us that she has some, so far undetected, talent, bestowed on her by the Good Lord, thought it prudent to wear 6 inch heeled pumps to her brother’s funeral.
Clever girl, after all there were cameras there.