Head Trauma And Wendy’s Shameless Self Promotion

A Post By: Michael Gallo

Yesterday, around 9 pm I shut my head in the freezer door and suffered what multiple doctors would later call my “second concussion of the day”.  They told me to take it easy and…something else, I can’t remember right now.  But I decided to take it easy and see what was on the ol’ television.  What I saw scared me.  Then I realized I hadn’t actually turned it on.

But once it was on…I was scared.  I couldn’t believe the state of modern television.  Now, after roughly 8 minutes of show, multiple companies get a chance to promote their products.  “What the hell is this SHIT!?” – Me during commercials.  Could someone please explain this to me?  I just wanted to watch my Rachel Ray show and some jerk off’s that I don’t even know get to try and make me buy their shit.  How’s this legal?  I don’t NEED Limeaway.  Limeaway commercials always show someone in the bathroom going ape shit on stains and build up.  Do you know how many times I’ve been in the bathroom and said, “Damn, I have a lot of lime up in here.  I wish I had a pungent cleaning solution that came in a hideous green bottle and subjected me to multiple carcinogens.” Never.  Thanks Limeaway, but I prefer cleaning my bathroom with Agent Orange.

The next commercial was for Trojan vibrators…I’ll just leave this alone.

Actually, no I won’t.  It showed multiple women discussing their new vibrators and displaying hair that had apparently been “blown back”.  My advice ladies, see a god damn doctor.  Something on either you or your partner created a gust of air strong enough to mold your hair back.  That needs medical attention.  Then, as if it wasn’t bad enough, an elderly lady leans over and suggests getting their vibrators through the mail. HAHAHAHA, a pervert grandmother, how cute!  That’s not cute!  It’s all fun and games until little Jimmy is opening birthday presents and asks mom, “Where’s grandma?”  Get out of that one, mom.  Maybe instead of working on so many fundraisers you should be checking your own mother’s credit card bill.  Then little Jimmy wouldn’t be so alone.  And while you’re at it, ask little Jimmy about art class.  You’re too busy to even know his art teachers are giving him bad grades because he has some weird phallic obsession.  Hm…where could that have come from…maybe his pervert grandmother?  “Little Jimmy, that’s not what we use clay for” – Little Jimmy’s art teacher.  Some parents make me sick.

By now my eyes were starting to roll back into my head, but I focused even harder because if I didn’t get Rachel’s Butternut Squash Muffin recipe, I was going to physically hurt the next person I came across.  But wouldn’t you know, another commercial!  But this one was intriguing…http://www.lasvegassun.com/videos/2010/nov/06/4549/

It was a Wendy’s commercial that took us back in time…to a magical era called the 70s.  When women were women and cocaine was good for you.  The commercial show’s a young Wendy…THE Wendy, of Wendy’s fame.  She says “that was me back then!”  Oh really, the girl with red haired pigtails holding Dave Thomas’ hand is Wendy? No shit?  At first I thought it was bullshit.  I was furious.  Here was Wendy, mooching off the business her “dad” established when he’s been dead in the ground for almost 10 years.  Where have you been all this time Wendy?  I’m not even convinced Dave Thomas is her real dad.  I’m not very good at math (in math 101 I got a B that was cut in half), but let’s look at some quick easy facts here.  in 1980, at the height of Wendy’s popularity, Dave Thomas was 95 (don’t look it up, these are facts).  In the commercial, Wendy looks no older than 45.  Which means…carry the seven…divide that by two…that Dave Thomas gave birth to Wendy when he was 76 and she was 11.  Wait, no that can’t be right. Regardless, it’s been a while and supposedly Wendy was notorious for never appearing in commercials.  So for her to appear, must mean something BIG is about to go down.  Instead, Wendy tells me that she’s honoring her dad by naming a burger after him.  A god damn burger.  This thankless, selfless man named a billion dollar profit machine after you and you’re going to give him a BURGER!?  Where do you get off Wendy??  I’m shaking right now.  I’m not sure if it’s my raw rage or a concussion symptom.  And supposedly it’s their “hottest burger ever”.  Perfect, so I can bite into this seemingly harmless burger only to have the skin on the inside of my mouth super heated to the point my tongue fuses to one of my cheeks.  Who’s idea was this? At the end of the day I think Wendy saw an opportunity to be the Steve Jobs of the burger world.  I have to admire to entrepreneurial attitude.  Mine as well start helping with the family business 10 years after your father’s death right?

That’s the problem with the world today.  Nobody thinks about the common man.  No one says, “hey guys, someone could really hurt themselves with our product.  Maybe this vacuum cleaner doesn’t need to be able to suck up a bowling ball.”  Well, that and people parking on streets at night.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, I don’t even know how the muffins taste.  I melted all my taste buds on Wendy’s “hottest burger ever”.  Great idea, Wendy.


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