How The Nerds Stole the Fun From Superpowers

There comes a crossroads in a person's life when they must ponder about deep and profound brain things like: "Where did I come from?", "Is there a God?", "why is Paul Walker still a movie star?" and "what practical purpose does a nerd have in my everyday life?”  

The existence of nerds, and their abstruse impact on life as we know it, is a well-documented phenomenon.  Mostly known for their "drooling while talking to girls" style, and amazing fashion sense (often consisting of moon boots), their importance in society must be bigger than "they make casual observers feel awkward when they try hitting on girls".  But i can conclusively say that i have found yet another reason why to cement the nerd's claim to future domination of the world.  Nerds can use abstract (code for useless) thought train (code for ADD) to explore the vast expanses of the impossible, and inform people when THEIR daydreams are idiotic and in need of being crushed. 

You would think that the question of "what superpower would you want?" would be a harmless “I’m-trying-to-be-friends” type question.  But you would be wrong.  It's not.  To a nerd this question is interpreted as "let me give you the nerd equivalent of slapping you in the face".  The way nerds see it: dreams need to be crushed. This world of superpowers is the nerd’s magical realm... and nerds are very territorial.  You are NOT invited to the party.  

Yes it's true: Nerds can crush dreams. According to ancient nerd-lore: nerds are the guardians of the homeostasis (see?!?!?! Chemistry class ACTUALLY taught me something) in the known universe today.  If not for nerds, people would run around with wild abandon and completely idiotic dreams.  These people need to be crushed.  Obviously, based on this bullet proof logic, crushing dreams is totally justified.

Common dream the nerd world feels the need to crush: How the super power that you THINK is cool is actually going to get you dominated (either via Villain with 1/2 a brain/body, or by simple laws of physics)

Let the crushing begin.

X-Ray Vision: People don’t often realize this at first, but there are some things that you can’t un-see. There are some barriers that are put up for our eye's protection... like bathroom stall doors.  You will never look at a person the same way when you witness firsthand what they REALLY had to go through to overcome their food poisoning. Imagine all the Butt tattoos that you'd see that would sear its image into your brain.  

People focus too much on the things they DO want to see and not enough on the things they DONT.

SUPERPOWER CRUSHED

Heart (from captain planet): 

This poor fool.  What sick cartoonist decided to pit a worthless superpower like "heart" against the evils of the world? Tell it to me straight, was this serious? Was someone high when they came up with this superpower?

 Last time i checked: when a heart has tried to battle a bullet, flying at super-sonic speeds out of a gun, or a ninja star, or heck, even too much CAFFEINE... the heart lost. This super power is, in fact, so worthless that I’m having a hard time figuring out who your arch-nemesis would be.  A donut? To add insult to injury, the rest of the gang had ACTUAL superpowers, like: causing earthquakes: a power solely reserved for the Greek god Poseidon himself. One of his buddies commanded FIRE.  I think someone was sending the wrong message when they are trying to convince kids that you only need the power "heart" to overcome supreme destructive forces.  Try seeing how much heart you have when the Fire dude turns you into a human candle.

SUPERPOWER CRUSHED

PS:  this is a picture of the kid who had "heart" as a power. what does "hidden knowledge" mean? to me this means "worthless knowledge" or is code for "i actually dont know, so i'm going to call it 'hidden'".  Jim failed his test because his knowledge was "hidden"... if he put it on the paper... it would defy the conspicuous nature of the knowledge. Jim may find that he will also fail at LIFE.

Flying (anti-gravity):  Let's assume that your super power DOESNT involve "i am now a human jet” because aside from the OBVIOUS hassle of the FAA requiring you to have yourself constantly inspected (including cavity search... yeah: they are THAT thorough), where do you expect to land? You think your LEGS are going to stop you as you come crash landing at 120+ MPH?  Plus: the ridicule of looking like a human jet would take its toll.  I, for one, would be merciless in my laughter at the one and only airplane man (you might call me heartless, but remember... HOMEOSTASIS).  

 

So: instead let’s assume that you just operate on Anti-Gravity.  Cool... the earth/universe no longer attracts you like it does everything else (yes: the universe just wouldn’t be attracted to you... it just got personal).  This means that the second you flip that superpower you will be sitting still watching as the UNIVERSE expands away from you at the speed of light.  You thought you were going to skip traffic... now you are worrying about what happens when you collide with a neutron star at the speed of light.  

SUPERPOWER CRUSHED (along with the rest of your body)

Time Travel:

I would try to give you my best Stephen Hawking explanation of why the best use of this impossible super-power would be going to the time you thought of having this power and slapping yourself.... but I’m not going to do that, because it just isn’t worth it if i can’t use my crippled/robotic voice. 

SUPERPOWER CRUSHED (hopefully before you thought of wanting this superpower... effectively avoiding a universe splintering time paradox)

Mind Reading:

"it'd be so awesome to know what he/she is thinking right now" is a common phrase.  Saying the aforementioned statement is a good way to have the collective Borg-like nerd universe laughing at you in eerie unison. People’s thoughts belong inside their skull, but not for THEIR protection... but YOURS. Let’s put this simply. With this power, you had better steer clear of prisons.  It's either that, or you are going to end up so mind-violated (note: this is an "all gender encompassing" statement) that even Freud himself wouldn't be able to make you a functional part of society again. I can just see poor Professor X having relapses each time he hears the song "jailhouse rock".

SUPERPOWER CRUSHED

Spinach making you a muscle man: If this isn’t the cruelest trick that parents ever played on their kids, i don’t know what is.  Correction: maybe if a parent was to tell their kid that Disneyland burned down and wasn’t coming back... and then threw their ice cream cone onto the ground (and then said that that was the last ice cream cone in the world).   But this is close second. Essentially, your super power is: the ability to be duped into believing anything.  Congrats: you are a super con-man victim. Well, i guess the super villains need SOMEONE to destroy/take advantage of.  

SUPERPOWER CRUSHED.

Mr. Fantastic (the stretchy/worthless man from Fantastic 4).  Yes: we are talking about the stretchy guy.  The only REAL super power you'd have here is the ability to slow down your brain functions enough to come up with an absolute abomination for a super hero name.  

So you can STRETCH?!?!?! so can my gum and only get worried when i swallow it and realize that it’s going to spend 7 years in my digestive system. Gumby was stretchy, and I’m pretty sure i didn’t see him striking fear into any super-villains.  Actually, that is probably WHY they became super villains: if this is the best that superhero's had to offer... why NOT take whatever you wanted? Beating the stretch out of Gumby is better exercise and cheaper than a gym membership. 

SUPERPOWER CRUSHED

I hope this helps. That is: helps hinder your imagination and continue to keep the nerd realm free of 'normies' (the common nerd-term for normal people)

Love,

Will

Good Ol' Fashioned Paranoia... and Shmelsey can come too

I've got a new hobby... I have discovered the joy of a little thing called "conspiracy theories" (they are the latest craze these days).  it's a totally normal and healthy hobby.  Apparently, all you have to do, is notice something random (probably innocent), and then delusionally freak out and believe that everyone is conspiring against you!  I am working on believing in aliens... but it looks like that is an "advanced maneuver" that is reserved for the most dedicated/elite conspirators.... rest assured i'll get there one day.

Don't worry: plenty of normal/healthy people have had that hobby... right before they go crazy, start thinking that the mailman works for communist Russia, and will stop at nothing to steal their toilet seats (which they will tell you was a wedding gift from Gabriel the Archangel), and go postal at the nearest bell-tower.  but of COURSE that's crazy... because communist Russia is totally just an imaginary conspiracy.

Today's target for coincidences chalked up as conspiracy is THE MAN.  THE MAN is trying to steal my blog... that's right... you heard me... read me... whatever.  THE MAN in this case is the Fox news cooperation.  And because they are THE MAN, i'm going to take this opportunity to stick it to them.  Here, i give you exhibit A

http://www.foxnews.com/leisure/2011/05/18/best-car-survive-zombie-apocalypse/

o dear, something looks familiar: perhaps it was the blog i wrote about the zombie apocalypse back in february

http://marblesharpwill.blogspot.com/2011/02/preparing-for-zombie-apocalypse.html
(you should go ahead and click on that link a couple of times.  this will pad my blog stats and make me feel falsely warm/fuzzy about myself.  shallow, i admit, but totally worth it)

But i've gotta admit... i would totally drive one of these babies around during the Zombie Apocalypse... probably when zombies werent around too.... (does that make me a redneck? the jury is still out on that question)



Anyways, enough about Smilliam's blog insecurity...(I am a rock... but a rock that will accept pity $20 bills).  I know what you are thinking right now: what could my blog have to offer THE MAN?  It is mostly nerdy... really has no direction... is sporadically posted at best... and doesn't have a league of talented writers to bail it out when Smilliam cant think of anything good to write about.  In my opinion, this last part carries the most weight (because words are Sherpas? Sheesh: i never knew that words were so lazy).  If you were going to copy someone's stuff... 

A) why not at least steal from someone who actually knows how to write well?  seriously... for the longest time, i really didnt know what an "adverb" was... until i broke the word down into "a" and "dverb" then it made total sense to me... I was going to fail my English Class.  to further prove my point without spell check... i'd be up siht creek.

2) Dont steal from someone who is torn because while he doesnt LIKE his ideas being stolen... he DOES like that the people who stole it checked out his blog... padding his stats even more, and are turning him into a completely conceited nerd... (dangerous combination... trust me.  such a person might look like this)

D) steal from a guy who doesn't reference random movies like "home alone" in subtle ways which often go unnoticed

So, have i gone psychotic? Perhaps.  But i have read enough of Orwell's "1984" and Rey's "Curious George" saga to know that this is a classic case of Big Brother/The MAN (sometimes with a yellow hat)/Corporation/Industry/zombies/Paul walker, using their big money and evil ways to try and destroy everything i hold dear... like the electronic storage of my poorly put together word things (blog), or movies... no wait.. that one was just Paul Walker. 

If they write an article about Paul Walker... Will will be willing to overlook this whole zombie mess.

oh: and P.S.  I told Shmelsey that i would put her in my blog.  And these last 3 sentences are dedicated ENTIRELY to her...  And now i dont feel bad getting a free haircut from her because of a bet she lost to me.

Of my nephew, Of Gavin's less-cute nephew, and other un-exaggerated thoughts

Let me start off this completely unbiased blog with a completely legitimate graph that I saw some very smart people (with lab-coats and clipboards) working on.

My roommate and I had a discussion the other night.  Correction: it was more of "a statement of facts", because a "discussion" connotates that there is a back/forth dialogue.  I simply stated the fact that "my nephew was the cutest being on the face of the earth, and most likely in the known galaxy as well". Although, now that I think about it, I probably didn't say "cute".  words that were possibly used include "awesomest" "Bodatious-est" "EarthShatteringlyGoodLooking" or a variety of other made up words that would have to try to make up for the english language's insufficient adjectives for my nephew... CALLAHAN... callahan... callahan.  (yes: orchestra cymbals smash and his name echoes every time you say it)

I, being known for my un-exaggerated, down to earth, and completely logical, statements, could not have POSSIBLY expected what came next. And here comes the part that makes me think that my roommate is actually on Crack, or perhaps some derivation of LSD.  The words that came out of his mouth was "Will, MY nephew is cuter than yours".

There are certain offenses that are a part of life which I just have to accept: vegan breakfast burritos, Bakersfield California, Evil Zombie Ninjas, Paul Walker Movies, or an accidental fart in a quiet crowd during your friends graduation speech (sorry Tom). But how is a man of integrity and ethics supposed to live with a statement which implies that there is something CUTER Awesomer than my nephew? Highly speculative and terribly advanced research shows that Hitler probably wouldave implied something along similar lines... I rest my case.

This is my Nephew Cal.

I've already got his first birthday present: it's a pointy stick to keep away the ladies.  I've got a spare to give him when the one I gave him breaks from overuse. He will have to learn how to use a tazer at a young age.

It's not that I'm biased... but after being able to hold Cal, i typically just look at other babies and see this: 

Unless whoever is reading this has a child.  then, their baby of COURSE look like THIS.

the point is: Cal has officially raised the bar for all the babies out there. Actually, not just for the babies, but for EVERY cute thing out there.  example: he would make a baby seal look like it was beat with an ugly club, and then turned into a rich ladies coat. THAT is how cute we are talking here... true story

Hello.. my name is Smilliam... i'm an Ex-Video Game addict...

I’m Quitting video games.  Yep: i'm really doing it.  I’ve been clean for 15 days so far.  And now my real battle will be trying to tell my dealer (my roommate who keeps coming home with awesome video games), that I’m out for good.  Mario will have to rescue the princess on his OWN time. 

The reason? it's like a Lent thing.  but this time, the torture is going to last forever, and i cant blame it on: "everyone else is trying to be a good person, so i GUESS i will try to be one as well.".  I just came to the conclusion that I could probably be even MORE awesome at something if I didn’t play video games… like impressing the pretty ladies with “battlestar galactica” quotes.  Just kidding! I bet you thought I was SERIOUS! Everyone knows that pretty ladies like star wars more than battlestar galactica.

Oh, and I suppose that the whole “TV melting my brain” has got something to do with my reasoning as well…

Things to expect from this new and reformed (awesome) Will

·         He'll probably become a concert pianist. Or the best little-plastic-recorder-clarinet-thing EVER!!!  He may even win a gold medal in recorder playing. Oh: They’ll MAKE that an event.

·         There is a high likelihood that he’ll start up a militant hippy-ist group.  (the world needs more radically contradictive groups)

·         With all his spare time, he’ll now be able to do the same thing we do EVERY night, Pinky… TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!!

·         Sunburns on Will's previously protected white skin... oh, so many sunburns.

·         expect a Will who still WANTS to swear like a sailor, but is going to be less practiced at it.  you have no idea how infuriating it is to get shot in your virtual head 32,094 times by an 8 year old from Canada.  

·         a much more educated Will who will read all sorts of literature, such as Milton's "Paradise Lost", Dante's "Inferno", and Watterson's "Calvin and Hobbes"

·         a Will who doesnt understand silly things like "the way of the samurai" because he wont be playing Bushido Blade 2 anymore. But DOES understand AWESOME things like Kung-Fu from all the Bruce Lee movies he will be watching!!! Back-flip-twist-kick, here I come. 

·         more of that coveted "hospital/ER" time due to his interest in kung-fu

·         a Will who will probably stop talking in the 3rd person... probably

·         a Will who wont drool so much when he talks to pretty ladies... (dont worry though... it was a sexy drool)

·         a Will who will be able to think of more things to put on a list like this... (and figure out how to not use so many "to"s in sentences like that... because it's kinda a mystery to me).  perhaps this Will who has everything figured out, and knows how to stop using "to"s, will also understand how to write blogs in the non-list format.

The only downside (other than the video game withdraws), is that i have this "nerd" competition with one of my friends.  This issue is going to put a major hit on my nerd points.  i used to be KILLING her in nerd ranking, and this takes away about 33.333 (repeating, of course) percent of my nerd prowess.  you may laugh now, but there is STAUNCH competition.  I'm talking about things like: she knows how to speak in one of the fictional Star Wars alien languages... yeah THAT nerdy.  one of the next questions you may be asking is "how is it that you are AHEAD of her in rankings?!?!?!" and i, of course, am going to plead the 5th.  But can assure you that it’s true.

so: I am hanging up the controller, so to speak... which is a good thing though.  I have always wanted to become a better Star Wars nerd.  Bout time for a marathon, RIGHT!?!?!?! Now that i have all this spare time, i'll do a marathon of star wars marathons! muwhahahaha... I see the nerd competition taking a drastic turn in my favor.

My next blog may be about me giving up TV in general…

What happens in the bathroom... STAYS in the bathroom. (dirty looks excluded)

I'm going to start off by saying "i have very clean hands and wash them often".  There, I said it... now we can continue. (unfortunately, this is a necessary statement... but you gotta admit... you are probably really interested in what i have to say now...)

Did you know that there are directions that you are supposed to follow when you wash your hands?  I had just assumed that there wouldnt be very many steps... in fact, that there was more than one step kinda threw me off guard.  
step one: wash em' ... ummmm go ahead... DO IT...
step two: what are you still doing here?!?! What happened in that stall that's making you feel the need to read the directions on how to cleanse yourself?

I was shocked to find out that you are actually supposed to continue lathering your hands for 30 seconds!  At first glance, this is not an alarming statement  30 seconds doesnt sound like a very long period of time... it's how long it takes my microwave to be destroyed by the fork i accidentally left in the tupperware.  but 30 seconds is a long time... i can assure you.  

Have you ever tried hugging someone for 30 seconds?  That's how you get restraining orders put up against you, or that's how you get those weird nicknames started about you in high school that never really go away.  Trying this on a police officer will get you tazed, and possibly billy-clubbed (perhaps both).  He may even call for backup, so he can beat you like an angry man who is angry, and needs to beat somebody (i know... sweet analogy, Right? all those ages analyzing an appropriate and awesome analogy... alas,  my alliterations arent as amazing as my amorous analogies).

I can’t speak for anyone else, but the act of lathering my hands for an extended period of time may leave my hands clean... but i sure do FEEL dirty.  Because, let's face it... no one WANTS to spend more time at the sink than humanly necessary.  it's a place that reminds you that: no matter how good you are at going to the bathroom, or how excellent of aim you have, no one is ever going to believe that you are SO GOOD, that you don’t even need to wash your hands.  Perhaps I’ve lost this argument before... perhaps i haven't... quit being so nosy.

Scenario one takes place in a bathroom. Let’s start of by letting you know that the bathroom is a special place for men... it's where a man can go to find peace of mind when his body is telling him “something is seriously not ok”.  It’s a place where he can take a deep breath, (typically away from the stalls), and never have to worry about catching flak for leaving the toilet seat up.  It’s a place where, if properly equipped, he can write all sorts of offensive things on the walls like "Paul Walker RULES".   

Suppose that some completely hypothetical guy named "Schmilliam" is turning on the water to wash his hands after waging chemical warfare in stall number 2, co-worker Harry walks into the bathroom to take care of business.  Harry awkwardly says "hello" (which in guy language means: i'm forced to acknowledge your existence because i work with you, but please dont speak to me for the duration of this encounter.  P.S. any sound you hear in here is inadmissible in a court of law).  

In a guy’s mind, if Shmilliam is still lathering by the time Harry gets done at the urinal... red lights are flashing.  He begins to wonder things like "maybe giving him that high-five was not a good choice" "perhaps I should put my hand down the garbage disposal, because at one point, i shook his hand".  
If Schmilliam is still there, lathering his hands, by the time Harry is leaving, Harry will have to face some heavy MORAL conundrums.  Does Harry go out on an uncomfortable limb and ask if he needs a HAZMAT chemical suit next time he uses the bathroom (which makes going to the bathroom difficult and potentially messy... trust me)? Or maybe Harry should go directly to HR with the concern that one of his co-workers might not know what toilet paper is used for.

The underlying problem is the fact that Harry (oblivious to the fact that William Scmilliam is simply following directions to wash his hands) is forced to wonder what happened in stall number two.  A man can only deal with simple questions with yes/no/42 answers like "what is the meaning to life". When faced with those other types of questions, his head may very well splode.

Now back to me, and enough of that "obviously not about me" story.  Those awkward looks from people leaving the bathroom are starting to get annoying; particularly because the weekly high-five count has dropped to a dangerously low number.  

Possible solutions include:
1) Explaining to various coworkers that they shouldn’t worry: everything went to plan inside that stall, and you are actually SUPPOSED to wash your hands for the same amount of time that a coroner does after an autopsy
2) Start staring back
3) Start rumors that I actually killed someone, so they will be too afraid to be in the bathroom at the same time

I’m just not quite sure if any of those options will really solve the "Will is a creeper" status though... in that hypothetical world.

So: smart people who hopefully pity me (as you should pity anyone who is undergoing bathroom-related problems): Suggestions about what to do about this dilemma are welcome.  

So... I melted my eyes the other day...

So... i just had laser eye surgery.  and right now i'm having trouble seeing... Literally, my screen is a white blur with a little bit of blue in it.  so i figured "ehh, who needs eyes... i'm just going write this one on emotion."  how am i doing so far? not too many misspelled words? l;kajsdfnwef adfl;jkasdl;fuj r.  how about now?

so... (yeah, i realize that i'm starting all the paragraphs the same... chalk one point up for the league of bad grammar... which i'll start as soon as i can see again)... there are 3 kinds of surgery you can have on your eyes. And I, obviously being an expert in everything, have been well informed of all three, and can reference various smart sounding medical journals to back up these tried and true FACTS.

The three types of procedures are 

1) Lasik. This is where everyone in the Eye-Blasting office floats around like angels, they touch your eyes with magical lasers, a bit of pixie dust, and in a couple hours you can see the earth's curvature and eat cookie dough to your hearts desire (or until you throw up... but generally these happen at the same time).  side effects include "eagle-eye-osis" and "awesome-x-ray-vision-itis")

2) PRK.  this involves surgically removing your eyelids for a short time, as you stare into the harnessed power of the sun for an extended period of time.  The procedure would also involve tears, but those were also burned away as they turn your eye sockets into blast furnaces.  side effects include desert-eyball-ness, Blindness, death-osis and people-laughing-at-you-for-choosing-the-wrong-procedure-itis.  

3) Scary man with icepick and hammer.  This procedure is done for free, and it also comes with complementary candy as you walk into his (the "Doctor's") van. I know you might be worried about this last one... but it's ok... it's a STERILE ice pick.  (what kind of idiot do you TAKE me for?)

What i find almost comical is that the common word around the office is "discomfort".  They were constantly telling me: "as we are destroying your cornea, you may experience some discomfort."  I couldnt help but wonder what THEY mean by discomfort?  To me, discomfort is "aww man! i've got this crazy wedgie, and i cant pick it, because i'm on a date". or "i'm playing video games and havent blinked for 3 hours".  THOSE things cause me discomfort.  i save the things like: removing my eyelids and using superman like eye lasers to melt my eyballs, to be classified under the category of: "this is what hell must be like". But it is a futuristic hell, because they implement the use of lasers to torture people.  

Let's juxtapose this with something we can all relate to.  a grain of sand in they eye, in the form of one of those annoying SAT questions.

A grain of sand in the eye is to torture as holding the wrong end of a lightsaber with your eyeball is to ______.

A) a bad juggling trick

B) saying "get away from me with that F*#@ing lightsaber you psycho"

C) Discomfort

D) Cruel and Unusual punishment (which you'd probably get 10 to life for)

E) removing your eyelids and watching a Paul Walker movie marathon

Everyone would get this answer right, because someone taking the SAT will ALWAYS choose C) when they dont know what the correct answer is.  But things that dont make logical sense like this (especially the ones that make it to those awesome standardized tests), are the types of questions that make those SAT- takers laugh with that maniacal  laugh that you'll laugh WITH, but simultaneously be a little scared for their (and your) mental and physical safety at the same time.

so... a long story short... I chose the worst kind of laser surgery.  i'm not eating cookie dough till i throw up and i'm starting to wish i would've taken the candy, and hopped into the ice-pick van.  After all, he DID tell me that he has operated on HUNDREDS of people before he'd probably be really good at it by now (if he's reading this: "borderline creepy dude: think you may want to also bribe with balloons... i definitely would've been convinced if you had balloons too).

Which brings us to the present... here i am, looking at an annoyingly bright computer screen, hitting what i believe are the right keys, feeling like i pissed off superman, and he blasted my eyes for me.  But it's ok, the lesson has been learned, and i have found the moral of the story. 

Perfect vision is worth going blind for.

do marketing people ACTUALLY know what they are doing?

just saw a UPS commercial...
'UPS will be able to successfully turn Davids into Goliaths."
There is a small chance that someone fell asleep in their Sunday school class.  The last time i checked, David killed Goliath.  not only that, but If memory serves correctly, Davie didn't only kill him... but he decapitated him after putting a rock to his dome-piece.  He did that is after he called him a sissy in front of the two entire armies.  Am i to understand that UPS is trying to make me into a Goliath? Is this something I want?  Should i be scared of UPS? Are THEY the David? Are they going to decapitate me?

i can only assume that there are very smart marketing people with smart marketing science things that involve psychology-stuff and various case studies (which apparently the study of various cases is often important when you are trying to make an irrefutable point while arguing with someone). and these smart-case-studying people have determined that the commercials that i watch on TV are best suited to speak to me on a deeper level.  On this deeper level exists complicated emotions like "William WANT".  And by "deep" level, i just mean that there is a lot of it.

The demographic that I am a part of has been studied and scrutinized to an unhealthy level and we have been deemed to be idiots.  This explains, the steady stream of commercials that are so retarded, that it makes me question my own intelligence.  After a commercial, i find myself wondering "Maybe i AM stupid! I'm sitting here, waiting for the hidden/valuable meaning behind the 30 seconds of wasted life, maybe I'm just not smart enough to understand the "Go Daddy" commercials."

You may not have seen the commercials i'm talking about, but i'm sure you know what i'm talking about. These commercials are 30 seconds long (my demographic also has ADD), and for all i know, they are not even trying to sell me anything.  The sad part is that I honestly have no idea what the company "Go Daddy" does, and i have seen about 30 of their commercials.  The easiest conclusion i can come up with is that I MUST be an imbecile if a profitable company, which is in the upper echelon of companies (they do, after all have commercials on the super bowl), spends millions upon millions of dollars on a commercial, and i just don't get it.  I mean: someone REALLY wants to tell me something and i apparently don't even speak the same language as them. 

here is a classic example.  How could something so simple be so hard to understand? it's HEAD ON.  i know This because they said it about 49 times in 20 seconds.  it's like that had an auctioneer saying it for them.  I understand how to use it... you apparently apply it directly to the head, but should i feel awkward for wondering if anyone knows WHY i should be applying it directly to my head? If someone repeated that commercial, verbatim, on the street, i would actually start to wonder if they wanted to fight with me.  "alright, punk... let's go... head on! you just TRY to apply something directly to my forehead!"

i feel like a good next commercial, would immediately follow the "head on" commercial, and be tailored to all the people who are incredibly annoyed with "head on". 

"Milwaukee hammers! apply directly to forehead! You wont have to remember the "head on" commercial after use! So good, that it is the preferred tool of serial killers everywhere!"

commercials make me feel kinda like I'm in a foreign country, and someone is yelling at you in a language that I don't understand.  All I can do is sit there and wonder: am I an idiot for not being able to understand this? or is that person an idiot for continually yelling at me even though i have no idea what he's saying?