I'm about to make sweet love to the person who brought the chocolate chip cookies in for breakfast. I don't care who it is, the 84 year old secretary - bring it on lady, and prep yourself for the best five minutes of your life. (Just kidding John Krasinski, I'm still yours for eva. But please know I am just that easy - tasty chocolate dessert? Five minutes of heaven. Including ice cream? Eight minutes. "Oh, is that Cold Stone in your pocket? Buckle up John, I've got a long commercial break with your name on it.")
After trying for the second time to get a d&%phram, and getting laughed at and publicly scorned first thing in the morning for the second time, finding the cookies was like a little sign from Jesus that things were going to be ok, and that I should just go ahead and cut that bouncy ball in half and use that as a makeshift di@!#ram should the occasion arise*, because how different can it really be, I mean really? And by jelly, do you think my doctor means grape or will orange work? Even though technically I think if it's orangey it's called marmalade. ("Oh John could you stop by Toys R Us and the deli, Mama's got a special night planned. Yeah marmalade, jelly, jam, I don't have a preference. Get peanut butter for all I care. If it can go in my stomach it can probably go in my hoo ha.")
The cookies and then this commercial, these two things make me so happy and forget all previous public shame. (You think 5th grade embarrassment is over, you think that until you decide to buy some new underwear to celebrate the fact you didn't blush that bad at the pharmacy this time, especially after you had to repeat diap#$%m three times because the dude behind the counter (pretended he couldn't)understand you, and then the underwear sales lady is all 'Oh you'd look great in that. And you know what, you can pull off a whip.' I'm sorry - what? 'Go on . . . try it.' My mother is right there. 'Where?' I don't know . . . somewhere.)
So, Becky and I watched this commercial 30 times last night, and then the 20 minute making-of video. It was done in one shot, with no computer tricking! (except for the part where the soap comes out of his hand, but still! That's amazing!) Enjoy!
*Am Macgyver of birth control!
2 comments:
Buying condoms is nearly as embarrassing. You always get this piercing glance from the person behind the counter and you know that in the back of their mind they're trying to size you up and figure out if you're sleeping with a 4 or a 5 tonight because you're a dirty condom-man.
I was borderline laughing too loud at work while reading your verbal magic.
Then I watched that commercial and, suffice it to say, I'm the loudest thing my boss has ever heard. I think she said "You're fired!" but I couldn't hear her because I'm laughing too damn hard.
"I'M ON A HORSE!"
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