Biomechanical organisms can be both freaky and funny at the same time, and Terrence Terrell as Progressive’s Insurance “Motaur” is at it again, this time showing off his light side as he motors down a deserted country road, singing and bopping to Culture Club’s 1980’s hit, Karma Chameleon. It was a catchy tune, and our Motaur seems to be enjoying himself thoroughly, even getting an arm dance thing going on. One doubts that a Skynet creation would do this…
…but as fate would have it, Motaur’s free-spirited fun is over when his rear tire unexpectedly goes flat. Fortunately, our boy has Progressive’s 24/7 roadside assistance plan, and will soon be on the road again. This commercial is actually part one of a two part series, the second part called New Shoes, and set in a tire shop.
I just never expected the Motaur to be a Boy George fan, did you? And despite my fascination with cyborgs, I’m keeping all of my organic parts, thank you…
It’s a charming commercial, with a bit of old world flavor. The Three Little Pigs of fairy tale fame are busy in their kitchen, making breakfast…and Lordy, they’re making French toast with Nature’s Own bread! I love French toast, and this looks more than good enough to eat, so gimme, gimme, gimme! Pleasant low-key European-style dining music is playing in the background. I’d be on board for this…
But wait…the Big Bad Wolf is also in the background, with a mighty exhalation of his classic breath! Is he about to “blow the piggies” house down, and feast on the diners therein?! Nah, not to worry…the wolf is blowing out celebratory candles on a giant stack of french toast thoughtfully prepared by the three piggies for some special occasion. They all applaud the wolf’s efforts, and then everyone is sitting down around the rustic table to eat hearty. All appears harmonious and well, but…
“Hey, got any bacon?, asks the wolf. This is followed by silence and blank stares by the pigs, and you can almost hear the crickets. “Just kidding!,” the wolf then reassures his company. He was only having fun with the piggies, you see, even if the joke was in questionable taste. All is well here with the predator/prey breakfast repast, despite wolves having a bad rep. Don’t kill the cook, I always say…
Nature’s Own: Goodness is in their nature. It’s “goodness that brings everyone together.” And even a wolf can be capable of peaceful coexistence, apparently. It’s the wolves who pretend not to be one that you have to watch out for…
Many are the travails of new homeowners visited in Geico commercials; clogging problems, RATT problems, fencing problems…and now we have people for whom their “pipes are making strange noises.” These “noises” we are shown are made by none less than an authentic bagpiper, complete in traditional Scottish attire, and playing his pipes loudly in such locations as under the kitchen sink, behind the water heater, in the bathtub, and…horrors…in the occupied bed of the couple!
Not even the plumber can help these poor people, who utters the single word “Nope!” upon encountering the piping piper, who plays the same refrain over and over. Now people tend to either love or hate the sound of bagpipes. Some find the sound stirring or haunting, although I imagine a repetitious refrain such as is played might get old pretty fast. No jigs are danced in response to the bag piping shown here, although this might have been a nice addition. And wouldn’t “The Masked Bagpiper” be a great new show on the Fox network? I can see the choreography now, lads and lasses…Everybody Highland Fling, now!
Unanswered are such questions as to why the bagpiper is haunting this house. Did the bagpiper lose his lassie? And should Lassie come home? And when the time comes to “pay the piper,” are his rates reasonable? Does the piper have a “greatest hits” album, every cut of which sounds the same? Inquiring minds want to know. Anyways, Geico makes bundling your insurance easy, even if home ownership is not. And please, no bag piping after ten, oh Danny boy…
(disclaimer: No Scots were harmed in the making of this commercial. Your ears are another matter…)
In this age of COVID, we are all spending more time alone, and what could be more terrifying than being left alone with our own thoughts?! Fortunately, the thoughts that run through our minds are more often mundane than weighty…
As a case in point, we have the Twizzlers commercial, “Only the Road Knows.” In it, a man is riding as passenger in a car driven by a woman along a lonely, isolated road through a deep forest. He is chewing on a Twizzlers, and appears to be deep in thought. For those of you living in a cave, Twizzlers are a rope-like candy traditionally red in color and strawberry in flavor, although color and flavor varieties are available. One wonders what thoughts are occupying the man’s mind…perhaps from the setting the dreaded “relationship issues” questions? Kill me now, please…
But no…we as observers are made privy to the man’s thoughts, which are revealed to be,”Am I too old to begin skateboarding?” If one has to ask that question, the answer is likely a resounding YES, unless you are equipped with forgiving and rubbery joints, or like to spend time in orthopedic convalescence. The question is one which the man needs to ponder, however, and Twizzlers is the candy that will assist him to “chew on it.” I do hope that the poor devil finds his way…
Research has shown, you see, that people are drawn to Twizzlers by the texture, and the gratification afforded by chewing. Perhaps Freud was right about oral needs. I’ve known people who claim that chewing gum relaxes them, and even helps them think. At any rate, in the age of COVID, I would offer Twizzlers this supplemental slogan;
“When life gets screwy, go chewy.” Just take your mask off first, of course…
The other day I went to a drive-up window to buy a lousy $4 ice cream, since in the year of the plague, walk-in much less full restaurant service are but memories. Reaching the front of the line, I discovered to my chagrin that the establishment wasn’t accepting cash, but only credit or debit cards. Cash, it would seem, is now considered a “contact point” for the Coronavirus, which can live merrily on a variety of surfaces for hours.
As I fumbled awkwardly for my debit card out of my wallet, the thought surfaced in my mind that these must be terrible times to be Scrooge McDuck. I mean, that bird would literally go swimming through his cash vaults! He had, by a Forbes estimate, a net cash worth of over 44 billion dollars. Swimming and burrowing through his money brought this duck pleasure! He was, by the standards of many, one lucky duck…
Now in these plague years, could Scrooge be considered to have a fatal attraction to money, considering his physicality with it? With money being considered filthy lucre, does Scrooge McDuck have a death wish, or is he just severely conflicted now about his practices? Is an intervention needed to save this duck from himself?! These thoughts eat away at me, terribly. We may never know the answer to these timely questions, but press on nonetheless. It is our calling, our mission here… 🐺
In a series of Halloween-themed commercials, Geico insurance introduces us to Griselda the witch, a witchy but wonderfully hip witch who builds on traditional stereotypes to in one commercial host a karaoke cooking show, complete with bubbling cauldron in which angel sneezes and a thumb drive are added to the brew!
But I digress…in one wonderful, furry-themed commercial, two female college students have taken in Griselda as a compromise roommate, one seeking someone who can help with the cooking, and the other wanting someone who likes cats. Griselda fits the bill nicely, spoon-feeding one of the students soup that transforms her into an anthropomorphic cat complete with cat ears, facial features, and furry forearms… I’d drink of that brew anytime! While her cooking may be questionable, Geico can really help these students with renters insurance, we’re told.
Anyways, Griselda is a real hoot as is her furry creation, and deserves to be a breakout character. We Halloween lovers thank you, Geico…watch for yourself, and meow!
(tip o’ the pen to Carycomic for the idea for this post!)
I would probably have long since starved to death were it not for peanut butter. I’ve eaten it since childhood, and continue to turn to it several times a week. At times, I even crave it; peanut butter is my go-to lunch and snack of choice when I don’t know what to eat. That being said, I indulge my guilty pleasure at home; even I may not be seen at a park, slathering peanut butter on a slice of bread. I’ve never been known to carry a jar of peanut butter around with me; I’m just not that hard-core…
…not so the curly-haired young lady in our Jif commercial! Seated on a park bench, she whips herself up a thickly-spread slice of peanut butter bread, only to find herself approached by a squirrel. Aww…isn’t he cute? Who could deny him? So she gives him a tidbit, and is soon approached by another squirrel, then another! No good deed goes unpunished, after all. Soon the woman is surrounded by dozens of squirrels, kinda like what happens when you feed french fries to sea gulls at the beach…
…It’s then that the commercial takes a surreal turn, for towering above the sea of squirrels is a creepy man-squirrel, wearing a squirrel mask that covers his entire head. He, too, is seeking a hand-out, and even making beseeching squirrel-noises. Is this a peanut butter pervert? And what should the young lady do? Mace him, scream for help, or try to bean him with the peanut butter jar? This question is left unanswered, but some people will go to any lengths for the product. It’s that Jif’ing good, we’re told. I do sympathize, honestly, sharing the addiction…
…but in my twisted mind fed by a love for horror, the question lingers; what happens when the woman runs out of peanut butter? Do the legion of squirrels and their squirrel-headed human-sized leader decide that the lady might be tasty, too? A few pounce on her to take a tentative nibble, and soon she is writhing under a blanket of them…Aieee! (The screen fades to black as we hear squirrels chittering…the Day of the Squirrel is at hand!)
Fans of Stephen King will get this commercial (The Corning) about Progressive Insurance agents emerging from a cornfield and chanting in a monotone to Charlie the farmer that he is covered for an automotive mishap and saving money because he bundled his home and auto insurance together…
…it’s suitably creepy and surreal. Led by iconic Flo, half a dozen Progressive agents, identically clad in their immaculate white uniforms, issue forth from the dense cornfield and begin their eerie slow chant while standing in near formation. “We’re all here for you, all day, all night,” they intone. “Get in the house, Sarah!,” urges Charlie to his wife, wisely following her inside. Their intonation over, Flo congratulates her team for calming a customer by speaking slowly and clearly.
The best is saved for last when you hear lovable loser Jamie ask the other members of his team if they heard “weird voices” while in the corn. They all deny it, to which Jamie responds, “Me neither.” Listen carefully, and you’ll then hear a faint, otherworldly voice whisper Jamie’s name, presumably from out of the cornfield…Haunting!
I had thought that last November’s KFC commercial featuring a Colonel Sanders impersonator dancing with a human-sized bottle of Mrs. Butterworth syrup was a once-and-done thing, but in a companion piece commercial airing currently, the Colonel is back, complete with a misty, bedroom-eyes type expression as he meets Mrs. Butterworth in a marble hallway while a Celine Dion ballad plays. I know that they say “the South shall rise again,” but this is ridiculous!
Mrs. Butterworth appears to make the first move as the impossible couple stare into each other’s faces and the Colonel caresses her molded plastic cheek, probably thinking of all the syrupy goodness contained within…then the couple lean towards one another as a preliminary to a kiss which thankfully, we don’t get to see!
I don’t know what will happen next, and frankly prefer not to go there. Some things are best left to the imagination, and I cringe to think of a Sanders/Butterworth union. Perhaps in the aftermath, however, a horror writer could pen an installment called Children of the Syrup. It would not be suitable for children or sensitive individuals, and viewer discretion is advised…
No, good readers, we have not turned into a BDSM blog, but are only sharing images of a centaur which appears in a Snickers “Fantasy Night Football” commercial. You see, Matt, the centaur pictured, has gotten his fantasy nights confused…and we’ve all been there, right (–not)? So anyhow, Matt decides to go horsing around, and shows up at a neigh-bor’s house in his centaur’s costume. The only problem is, it’s Football Fantasy night, and not…whatever else it is that Matt is into, ahem! We shall not go there, being a semi-respectable establishment…
The commercial may be seen as an extension of the “you’re not yourself when you’re hungry”Snickers theme, and Matt must be hungry indeed. Perhaps it’s appropriate that Matt is in his centaur suit, since Snickers is named after a horse…and being a centaur does add new layers of meaning into the expression, “going for a ride.”
I’ve always wondered, though…when a centaur is ill, does he see an MD or a veterinarian? There are unanswered questions here…hmmm!
FOXSYLVANIA 
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