"What up, Balthazar? How are your bowels, homes?"
"Dude, Zephaniabbakukaphebosheth! My bowels are actin' a foo. I got a mad case of diarrhea. What are your bowels up to these days, bro?"
I'm not sure why I imagine them speaking in such an urban fashion. I dunno. That's just how my imagination rolls.
Wow. Just... wow.
They were sure to note that "everything is priced the same as 'regular clothes'". So come on, fatties! We won't penalize you for having to use yards and yards and yards and yards and YARDS of extra fabric for your ginormous fatty clothes. Why? Because we care.
Another gem from our friends at Jell-O. For those who can't read the tiny/fuzzy print, the ad starts out, "Show the new girl just once what can be done with Jell-O and then you will always be sure of one fine dish for dinner. She may spoil everything else, but she will make a fine dessert of Jell-O." I don't know what "new girl" means, but I'm guessing it's referring to a maid/cook/indentured servant/hobo being kept in the basement. Apparently Tilly is as dumb as a bag of hammers. And her boss lady is a grade-A shrew. Jeez, Jell-O... condescending much? I'm never eating you again!
(Until the next time I get sick with a sore throat... or if all my teeth fall out someday).
Oh, sure. All dudes sit around shooting the breeze in their underpants. And WOOL?! Wool underwear? What? I mean... just... no.
This is just wrong on so many levels. Note that he "even likes lollipops." Isn't that just darling? Also, "Live delivery guaranteed." That right, folks. No dead monkey deliveries here. We don't play around. Exploitation, yes. Death, no.
That is all for now.