Posts Tagged ‘ritalin’

Stay-Awake Chewing Gum

April 15, 2009

soundtrack

gum

When I was five, I couldn’t stay awake late enough to watch some of my favorite TV shows. This sucked, but what can you do when you’re five years old. I yearned, and I suffered.

Sure, we had normal chewing gum. But there was still no product on the market that could make your breath smell fantastic, give your jaw a good workout, and also keep you wide awake so you could watch adult TV shows with bad words and the occasional inappropriate sexual situation.

Luckily, aspartame and caffeine are part of our chewscape now. So are chemical mint flavors, and – importantly – names with Xtreme in them. This superlative suggests that sugarless chewing gum has advanced to the next level – has become a product with a mission: to push the gum-chewer to their absolute limits.

Sexism is a by-product of chewing gum

The girls who chewed gum in my high school would all have to endure being called sluts, and the guys who chewed gum were expected to suck everyone else off… eventually… when they got over their self-conscious homophobia.

Was it like this in your high school as well?

Now, I’m not suggesting that there’s a link between promiscuity and chewing gum – sugarless Xtreme or otherwise. But what I am saying is that commercial advertising constructs this link by plopping busty models into their ads, often blowing large, breast-sized bubbles.

And yet, gum is so unsexy – at least, to the gay mind that’s inside my head.

Fake History of Gum

Gum appeared in the American diet just as the worker found himself working too many hours a day, and in too high-stress a social situation, to brush his teeth regularly.

I am always surprised at how few people brush their teeth at school, on the job, and in other social situations. A toothbrush and toothpaste don’t take up that much room, and it only takes five minutes to brush your teeth.

People spend hours looking for cheap parking for their cars, but they can’t seem to find the place for a toothbrush in their pocket or purse. And it is into the illusion of time-poverty that falls the miraculous product that is Stay-Awake Chewing Gum.

The Model

gum chart

I think this graph really says it all.

Chewing gum is all about forgetting the important things, and concentrating on the most trivial: the sound of your own mouth muscles. But you can always refer to this graph when you start to feel like chewing gum is just meaningless consumption.

The math is where all the meaning lies, and this chart captures that math really well.

Stay-Awake Chewing Gum has math on its side, and that’s like having God standing right behind you with a big smile on His face, isn’t it.

The Nest Egg Program

March 13, 2009

Nest Egg 2

soundtrack

As he clears his throat, FMJ tries to put a positive spin on the Nest Egg Program – his representation has told him to avoid saying the words Nest Egg Program while the trial is being recorded:

FMJ: “Well, we used our accumulated expertise to organize a cooperative and benevolent project with a reputable food distribution conglomerate to provide free food and clothing to all the orphans that my organ-seeking affiliates were finding in the foreclosed homes of my textile employees. To get a generous monthly cheque from Best Bagel International, all the staff had to do was to make sure the little monsters took their sleeping pills, and that they were all hooked up to the audio equipment before they passed out. The nightly routine took only took a few minutes to set up after we let Best Bagel’s imagineers wire earphones right into their hearing canals, so…”

Cynthia makes a neck-slicing motion with a celery stick she pulls out of her drink. This is their code for “no more details, you verbose diva bitch, or you’re going to wreck your own show trial.”

Jesus stops at the words “hearing canals.” He shakes his hair and looks at the small flowers he’s had painted onto his fingernails this morning by a team of fine arts students.

Pretending not to notice FMJ’s  nails, Abdul Bouq Emmisayar approaches the bench, and then dramatically points at a preening Free Market Jesus:

Abdul: “What exactly was this program called… for the record?”

Moe Silverberg’s blog and local weeklies have turned the name of the program into a national scandal, and Cynthia has warned FMJ that they have to avoid actually calling it by name.

But the prosecuting attorney has a knack for asking questions everyone already knows the answers to, and this has FMJ feeling flustered by the sheer ennui of justice. FMJ absentmindedly throws Moe a headline:

FMJ: “It was called The Nest Egg Program.”

As the judge reaches under his bench to take another piece of sushi, he calls Jamil Tericho to the stand. When Jamil stands up and turns around to grab his microphone, Free Market Jesus glances at his hairy chest and protruding ass half-moon, and then bites down on his Charlie’s Angels key-chain.

The judge asks Jamil to state the plaintiffs’ case in their class-action suit.

Jamil: “Your honor, since leaving the orphanages a few decades ago, my fellow orphans and I lead dead-end and hopeless lives of disappointment and insatiable desire. We don’t sleep enough hours. We can’t concentrate on a thought for a very long time. We spend hours and hours just sitting listlessly in front of our televisions or computers waiting for something to happen or someone to do something. It’s as if our ability to experience life has been taken away from us before we could defend ourselves.”

Free Market Jesus snickers out loud, and the room freezes as all eyes turn to FMJ – the star defendant – with his Gucci sunglasses and a freshly bleached smile.

He turns to whisper something loudly to Cynthia:

FMJ: “Oh those plaintiff losers are just trying to find self-affirmation by trying to bring down the god who made them what they are. I read all about this in a magazine at my pedicurist’s office. One of my own publications. They’ve got what scientists call Jan Brady Syndrome. I can’t believe they would dare show their ungrateful common-trash faces at my celebrity trial. Why don’t they just try to get on one of my reality TV shows where the audience can watch to see which one of them has to disappear every week.”

Jesus reaches into his satchel and takes out another Kool menthol. The judge tells him he has to go to the bar if he wants to smoke. Jesus turns to the judge:

FMJ: “Oh, Steven, you know this is how the Nazis started. Telling those poor Jews they had to smoke at the bar.”

He gets up as if performing a ballet move, and then pirouettes over to Jamil who is sitting on the front bench lifting weights while reading a muscle magazine.

FMJ: Jamil, my sweet piece of Phoenicia, don’t ever wear that Adidas belt with those flip-flops. It makes my cunt hairs burn.”

His gaze drops to the rising Phoenician beacon in Jamil’s strategically-faded low-rise French jeans.

Click for more FMJ

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