Tuesday Vintage Commercial: Listerine

It's puzzling on a couple levels - the most basic level being that of wondering which executive greenlights the phrase "If I didn't hate it, then I wouldn't use it" when trying to sell a product? And are we supposed to believe that the narrator is ascending to the top of phone pole just to hand off a bottle of Listerine? Who can say for sure...

But none of that matters. All that matters is that the one using that ridiculous phrase is Morgan Freeman!

Get busy living or get busy dying. That's goddamn right. But whichever option you choose, try and do it while avoiding gingivitis.

Sometimes I really miss Bristol

From: Bodenheimer, George
Sent: Tuesday, October 24, 2006 2:37 PM
Subject: Monday Night Football

It's official: the record has fallen.

With a 12.8 rating, ESPN's Monday Night Football matchup last night between Dallas and New York delivered the largest audience in cable television history. We're only seven weeks into this new season, and already ESPN's MNF occupies seven of the top eight spots on cable's most-watched list. Clearly, fans are "ready for some football" on ESPN.

When we announced our new agreement, we envisioned serving fans like never before combining the 36-year tradition of Monday Night Football and the tremendous scope of ESPN's many assets. Today's news validates that vision and while we have only just begun, a milestone of this magnitude - underscored by incredible companywide teamwork - should be celebrated. Congratulations to all involved.

To mark this record-breaking performance, we will be offering a complimentary "MNF" coupon good toward the purchase of food or drink in any of our Connecticut-based cafeterias. This offer extends to any employee either working in or visiting our Connecticut offices over the next month. Details will be forthcoming.

Those promised forthcoming details came through today, in another internal e-mail. For the most part, the generosity of the Worldwide Leader knows no bounds. However in this case, the "bounds" in question is that of $5.

To: EES-ESPN Domestic
Subject: Monday Night Football Employee Salute -- November 1st

As is often heard on Monday Night Football, "upon further review" the original MNF celebration meal coupon plan has raised a number of unanticipated, administrative issues. In an effort to ease the burden, the use of a meal coupon will not be necessary. Instead, we will provide an instant credit of up to $5.00 on the purchase of a single meal in any of our Connecticut cafeterias from noon to closing tomorrow. We recognize that this is not as expansive an effort as originally planned but it is still a great way to express our sincere thanks for the record-breaking performance and continued success of MNF on ESPN.

If anyone has any questions, please direct them to me. I apologize for any confusion this change in direction has caused. Thanks.

The Elf Unmasked

The Elf au naturel

Put yourself in Brian's shoes. He's a die-hard Purdue fan in West Lafayette to watch his beloved Boilermakers lace 'em up against Penn State. Being a Purdue alum leaves a hankerin' in his heart for Breakfast Club, so he finds himself at Jake's Roadhouse at 7:30am Saturday morning.

Lo and behold! Sweet mother of all things holy, Brian lays eyes upon the prodigal Elf and commences to badger him and vomit heaps of praise and adulation on his elfness.

Brian discovers that the Elf in fact has not graduated yet, and has been performing at home games for the past three years. His identity is rock solid once the Elf performs the well-known digit extended victory dance. However, the Elf admits to having not made it to the last few games. Hold on here! The Boilers were 4 - 0 but now find themselves a paltry 5 - 4 and dreading the inevitable matchup with Indiana in a few short weeks. Coincidence? Brian and I think not.

Brian leaves Jake's with the above cell phone image and an assurance from the well-liquored Elf to be present for the ensuing ballgame. Brian then met his regular viewing crew in Ross-Ade Stadium and proceeded to muddle through the myth and folklore hoping to spot the Elf in the crowd and thereby cement another Boilermaker victory.

Quarter 1 passed as did Quarter 2. By halftime the smarting performance of the lifeless offense had us begging for one glimpse of Elf pointing precision, one romping Elf ping-ponging through the student section after a heroic Dorien Bryant reception. There was one kid in a great banana outfit, a pope, and an exceptionally sultry Dorothy kickin' it Wizard of Oz style, but nary an elf. The second half bled out like death by paper cuts and the Nittany Lions walked out victorious, 12 - 0.

No Elf. No victory. No rest for the weary.

We've found you, Elf. Please, drop the bottle and tune those overly large ears to the pleas of your alma mater. You are needed like the Knicks needed Willis Reed, Wellington needed the Prussians, and Red 5 needed Han.

An impassioned multitude cries out: "Say it ain't so, Elf."

***Update***

Check out the chick in the bustier over the Elf's shoulder. If that doesn't sell Breakfast Club, I don't know what will.

***Update***

Giddy Up

For a few reasons, I have never quite understood people who love horse racing. Maybe my confusion comes from the fact that I don't particularly consider it an actual sport, but rather a stock exchange with horses. It's a given fact that horse racing would not exist if it weren't for gambling. Granted, gambling is involved in every sport, but it's inherent to the mere existence of horse racing. To consider something an actual sport, the competition itself should be able to go off without needing a betting window present. Not only that, I also don't trust any sport where the subject of the race/game/contest has no idea whether they have won or lost. Maybe this is also why I don't like Bode Miller.

Nevertheless, what troubles me the most are people who consider horses to be "athletes." I remember watching Smarty Jones make a run at the Triple Crown a few years and seeing throngs of people in Philadelphia taking pride that Smarty Jones was from Philly. Seriously, people were going nuts because a hometown horse was winning races! They even had THREE separate Smarty Jones days within a 5-week span in Philadelphia. I understand the desperate need to cling to any winner from the city, and Smarty Jones was a better shot at bringing glory before Donovan McNabb or Ryan Howard will probably ever be, but it's a horse! A horse, by the way, that has no idea where its hometown is. Still, the fans of Philly are nothing compared to the thousands upon thousands of people who sent Get Well cards (!) to a horse months ago. It's all pretty mind boggling when you think about it.

And yet, when the Breeder's Cup Juvenile race goes off a week from Saturday, I will find myself rooting for a horse. Not just any horse, but one with my all-time favorite name: UD Ghetto. He dominated the Kentucky Cup at a 17-1 underdog, and it's obvious from his trainer that the horse lives up to the spirit of his name.

"He's got a lot of talent (but is) a handful all the time," Reinstedler said. "You never know what he's going to do."

That statement can be copied verbatim to apply to any participant in a Ghetto 9-hole or Hairy Buff party.

So on November 4th, I will be rooting UD Ghetto, possibly with a Beast in hand just for old time's sake. I will be cheering with personal interest for a horse that couldn't care less about winning, and has no idea of the rich heritage that inspired his name. And God forbid, if that horse gets hurt, my get well card will be on the way.

UD Ghetto

UD Ghetto

Tuesday Vintage Commerical: VD is for Everybody

It's very true. VD doesnt care if you play the violin or cut meat. It doesn't care if you're a teacher or if you're knocked up with Rosemary's Baby. The bottom line is that it's for everybody, and you WILL get VD at some point. Just accept it and enjoy the waltzing backbeat.




But what to do if you get VD? Luckily the ad provides an answer at the end.

"If you need help, see a doctor."

Oh, ok. I guess that's an answer. Thanks ad council!

Updates from Elf-dom

Stalwart Elf-ites have dug up this image of an elf costume quite similar to THE Elf. While the Ross-Ade Stadium Elf is not as bedazzled as this one, you can get a better mental image.

Find The Elf, and I'll buy you and him a drink.
And we're talking boilermakers here. That's a shot and a beer.

Well this is awkward

---YANKEES NEW CHRISTMAS ORNAMENT FEATURES SANTA CLAUS FLYING YANKEES PLANE; MLB CALLS TIMING "UNFORTUNATE" FOLLOWING CORY LIDLE DEATH---From the New York Post:

Talk about bad timing.

A new Yankee Christmas ornament sanctioned by Major League Baseball and bearing the team's official logo features a beaming Santa waving - as he pilots a plane.

"My reaction at first was, 'I don't believe it,' " said Midtown lawyer Denis Guerin, who yesterday received glossy literature touting the "Yankees Victory Plane" - "a limited-edition annual holiday treasure" - in the mail.

Guerin shuddered as he recalled the horrific events that unfolded Oct. 11, when Yankee pitcher Cory Lidle was killed after crashing his small plane into an Upper East Side high-rise.

Guerin said he and his wife were "shocked and dismayed" again when they opened the mailing featuring the Yankee Santa in a plane. He said the plane appears to be "going into a Christmas tree."

According to the advertisement, "The 2006 Annual Yankees Ornament makes the ideal gift for every New York fan on your Christmas list."

"Your team spirit will soar" with the plane on your tree, it says.

"We looked at it with our mouths open and said, 'How could this have happened?' It's very insensitive," Guerin said.

"I don't think it was intentional," the season-ticket holder added. "It's just a terrible mistake and terrible coincidence."

MLB honchos agreed.

"All I would say is, the timing's unfortunate," said spokesman Rich Levin. "I'm sure this was done well before the Cory Lidle incident."

Yankees officials refused comment.

"I'm not going to comment on it at all because it has nothing to do with us, it didn't originate with us," a spokesman said.

Officials of Danbury Mint in Norwalk, Conn. - the company peddling the $19.95 "fine porcelain" ornament under a licensing agreement with MLB - did not immediately return calls seeking comment.

A woman answering the phone in its sales department said the ornaments "are developed over three or four years.

"This actually was developed probably over a year ago," she said.

Still, Guerin and an expert on collectibles questioned how the ornament could have even been allowed to be marketed since Lidle's death.

"It's just awful," said Pete Siegel, owner of Gotta Have It Collectibles in Midtown.

He said the experience should be a lesson to organizations such as the Yankees that use licensing agreements.

Siegel said he expects Yankee fans to balk at buying the ornament.

"It's almost sacrilegious about the incident," he said.

Guerin said he couldn't imagine anyone buying it, either.

"You're going to have a Yankee plane on your Christmas tree?" he said. "Who's sanctioning this stuff?"

Resurrect The Elf

The Purdue Boilermakers turned in a listless performance this past weekend, losing to Wisconsin 24 - 3. Most hopes of a New Year's Day bowl fizzled with the lackluster offensive output. Some point to a resigned Coach Joe Tiller, while other nay sayers think the young team just doesn't have the chops to stand up to top competition. Theories for the lull abound, but I think I've out-thought them all.

This is the eleventh straight season where I've been privy to on-field action in-person (minus one season in the land of the rising sun listening to 4:00am kickoffs via Japanese DSL) and there are two institutions noticeably missing. First, the band seems to be dead-set against playing "Fighting Varsity," the official un-official fight song most commonly known for impromptu lyrics devoted to good friends and accident victims everywhere. Yet the band still manages to pipe out "Fighting Varsity" from time to time, leaving only one possibility for the current gridiron trough the Boilers find themselves in: Where's The Elf?

We here at Bad Idea Blue Jeans have hired noted MS Paint sketch artist Scibbly McDrawsalot to come up with the above composite of The Elf. Fans in the student section, north end zone, and especially Section 120 have delighted in both The Elf's post-score celebrations as well as his third down rallying calls when the Boilers have their backs to the wall.

An all points bulletin has been issued and can be found at the Smoking Gun, but we have the nitty-gritty already. Concerned citizens and football fans everywhere should be on the lookout for an elf that meets the following description:

• Approximately 4' 6" tall, but well over 5' 9" with triangulated hat
• Commonly wears green
• Most likely earned a bachelor's in Organizational Leadership & Supervision, Marketing, or English Literature in the past 12 months
• Minored in Psychology (but who didn't?)
• Last seen in the 2005 season on the north fringes of the student section at Ross-Ade Stadium (tends to move rapidly and often, likely drawn to the cheers of appreciative fans)
• Most likely aggressively pointing with extended index fingers in an even, back and forth, lateral motion
• Presumed drunk

The current balance of Purdue football is askew, and sadly the future of college football may hang in the balance with The Elf. It is imperative that anyone with information concerning the whereabouts of The Elf, his handlers, costume, or former roommates post a reply to this item. Feel free to pass this information along to all concerned parties, but do not feel compelled to apprehend The Elf should you cross his path. He's quick and feisty and most likely could poke your eyes out with those fingers.

For the decency and spirit of the game, someone find The Elf. I'd love to buy him a drink.

Maybe you don't have enough RAM to understand this

BEST. EBAY. ITEM. EVER.

Tuesday Vintage Commercial: Puritan Clothing

Let's set the opening scene. You're a grown man who for one reason or another is standing in park shirtless. The obvious solution is the appropriately named "form fitting" Puritan clothing.



The vendor is really taking an interest in the eating habits of his customers, but that's neither here nor there. If anybody has any idea what that woman is using to apply condiments to her hot dog, please inform me. I have never seen a brush of any sort at a vendor cart, and I can say with relative confidence that whether one was available or not, I would have a reservation or two about repeatedly applying the remnants of a publicly used brush to something I'm about to eat. But what do I know?

I also enjoy the fact that Puritan clothing is apparently having a tough time filling up 30-seconds of ad space. There's no shame in running a 23-second ad and then just letting the piano fill over a black screen for 7 seconds, kids.

IPD cliffnotes

If you do nothing else today, you must check out SLAM online's cliffnotes of the Pacers/Club Rio/grown men named "Dino" and "Fingers" police report. The whole thing is golden, although #13 and #22 are my favorite on the list.

At His Mirthful Best

I'm watching Monday Night Football, and Joe Theisman just accurately and pointedly reenacted a so-called "hard count." Theisman detailed how the quarterback will raise his voice in an effort to enduce the opposing defensive players to jump early.

After this stirring rendition Theisman's boothmate Tony Kornheiser entreated Theisman to later explain "offsides and the 2-point conversion."

Silence and sarcasm then fought it out for presidence while Mike Tirico prayed for the next snap.

Here Comes a Regular

There are many things in live which simultaneously entertain and confound me. Recent examples include the unlikely marketability of Ok Go, anything Bob Dylan ever says in an interview, the 'comedy' sketches within "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip", and the absolute train wreck that is the NBC Sunday Night football highlight show (which I'll have to dedicate a post to in the future). Added to this list is the perverse joy I get from tracking where all our visitors come from is seeing how many people end up on the page through the magic of google search terms. Granted, most people who land here are looking for video of the "Bad Idea Jeans" sketch from SNL (and I'm guessing we just hooked a few more of you right there) but I'm continually amazed at the random ways that people stumble here.

Therefore, apropos of absolutely nothing, I present my favorite authentic google search terms. A few make sense. Most do not. But for one reason or another, all have led people to some of our greatest ramblings.

knock on the bar

Mickey Mantle 1973 letter

ben roethlisberger is a douche bag (NOTE: We're very proud of the collective IQs of the commenters on this one.)

pat's girlfriend (NOTE: If you put this term into google, our page is the first hit, which seems odd for some reason. Maybe it made sense to whoever was doing the search.)

kokomo hiphugger hours (NOTE: Our first post. We were so cute back then.)

pictures of britannia jeans

hilarious misplaced modifiers (NOTE: I'm guessing this isn't quite what the guy had in mind as "hilarious")

“chris hansen” smug

What jeans does dane cook wear

Censored YouTube, Pedophile, boy dancing, My Humps (NOTE: I'm very afraid.)

what's with stuart scott eye

Smells like gunfire and strippers

The new fragrance from Stephen Jackson

"I’m back to the humble Jack. I'm not one of the young guys no more. I'm one of the older guys on this team and I want to leave this game on a good note and leave a good impression on these guys."

Stephen Jackson, October 2, 2006

"BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!"

Stephen Jackson, October 6, 2006

They're Just Not Reggie

As I've noted in a previous post, the Indiana Pacers are endeavoring to put a new profile on a team that limped lethargically to a 41 - 41 record last season, bowed out of the playoffs and left their collective fanbase clammoring for the likes of Rik Smits.

As of 3:00am this morning though, Larry Bird and Donnie Walsh now have to figure out how to spin a strip-clup shooting and yet another physical altercation involving the supposedly reborn Stephen Jackson. Looks like the front office is going to have to do more than cut J.O.'s hair.

This is going to be a tough one though.

You see, it seems from most media reports that the Pacers involved in the incident - Jamaal Tinsley, Marquis Daniels, Jimmie Hunter, and even Stephen Jackson - were for all intents and purposes working to get out of a bad situation. The altercation opened up inside Club Rio (not the classiest joints, and definitely not in the classiest neighborhood) and the Pacers did what all crisis interverntionist would initially suggest; remove yourself from the scene.

Whatever thuggish-ruggish folks were on the opposing side of the argument (initial reports say that Marquis Daniels insisted The Graduate was the best coming of age movie, only to be rebuffed by a yokel demanding he acknowledge the merits of Stand By Me) pursued the Pacers into the parking lot, hit Jackson upside his grill and knocked him onto the hood of his Bentley with one of their cars. As a matter of self-defense, who wouldn't fire five shots from a licensed 9mm in the air at that point?

Reggie Miller wouldn't.

Therein lies the rub. These are our Indiana Pacers. They're in strip clubs at 3:00am on a Thursday, armed with handguns (legally), and carrying the residue of a dime bag (but nothing of a criminal measure) in their Bentleys. As holy as Reggie was, he was still a party animal (the guy loves John Mellencamp for God's sake) and the Simons gave him a Bentley of his own upon his retirement. Reggie never drug himself into a hip-hop malaise though, and these four could be vilified for just being near this incident, let alone playing the part of some pissed-off middle eastern kid shooting into the air.

Pacers fans are not yet ready to wrap their arms around this team, and no matter how many criminal charges get lopped onto the jerks that perpetuated this incident and how many times we hear that Jackson was acting in self-defense (which seems to be 100% true at this point, although the Pacers' website is quite mum), Indianapolis is going to have a tough time forgiving Stephen Jackson...again.

Maybe if they all wore 31...

NAMBLA

Things have been rough in Pacer camp lately. The front office orchestrated a fire sale/line change bringing in young players/cartographers and hopefully assembling a team that the fans will be proud of.

The fans are still a bit skeptical, but the copious amount of newspaper and television ads along with reconcilatory billboards (two blocks from my house no doubt) have got the public hopeful for success.

Then comes this wee bit of man on man love. Shouldn't this be on the cover of some 6 hour DVD?

"You love me the way only a 6' 8" man with cornrows can."

Tuesday Vintage Commercial: Remember Me?

Obscure 80's ads are all well and good, but sometimes you just feel like seeing something a little more familiar.



I should mention that I actually dialed 1-800-554-6100 just to see what would happen, but I got several rings without an answer. Try it yourself and report back to me if you get through to everyone.

Fortunately, the fun doesn't end there with the guy who had a report due on space. According to this guy's wikipedia entry (which Stephen Colbert will tell you should be taken as absolute truth) he didn't even have a name until he was five years old! He not only has a myspace page, but he also has 2 blogs - a clean one that hasn't been updated in nearly a year, and a bizarre, not safe for work one that feels like it should require a password of "Fidelio" to view.

Would you like to buy a monkey?

Ahh Pitchfork. Such a quixotic collection of writers. Holier than thou in their reviews of all things rock, and yet the majority of time they know how write a review well, whether their berating you for not bowing at the altar of the Fiery Furnaces, or calling you names for having the audacity to like Nada Surf. I increasingly find myself more and more annoyed by the smugness.

And yet, I believe with the review of the new Jet album, the Pitchfork boys and girls have taken their trademark snarkiness to a new level. Enjoy.