Oh. It must be about a week before Valentine's Day. PilotHusband has already started his drama. Every time we see a 1-800-FLOWERS commercial, my Uber-conservative husband bemoans the plight of Ecuadorian rose pickers and spouts on about how the US consumption of long-stemmed red roses fuels "the oppression of third world migrant farm workers". The same man who makes Rush Limbaugh look liberal the other 51 weeks out of the year, spends this week criticizing US price point markets for floral products versus the average wage of floral, seasonal, migratory, farm workers. Thanks for the input, Che Guevara.
Then we saw a commercial for Sherry's Berries... yummy chocolate-covered strawberries. Pull up a chair, boys and girls, and enjoy the lecture about how industrial agribusiness is killing the family farmer. PilotHusband actually pulled out our old VCR from a closet and hooked it up to the television so he could show me a tape of a FarmAid concert, circa 1985. Wow. John Mellencamp used to be pretty hot.
Oh, then we had to endure the Hallmark Greeting Card commercials. My PilotHusband, who shops for vehicles based on the HIGHEST average highway mileage per gallon (just to piss off all the tree huggers out there), has begun complaining about the excessive use of paper in greeting cards, and the collateral death of the poor innocent tree.
After 22 years, I know what comes next. Not since McCarthy, has there been a bigger forum for accusing people of communism. If you are a singer of love songs; BEWARE. Michael Buble, Blake Shelton, Josh Groban, Barry White, and Lionel Ritchie.... you are formally put on notice! Your insipid, sappy, seemingly heartfelt ditties will NOT be tolerated. You create unreal expectations and should be summarily shot (while charging your family for the bullet).
Sooooo.... this year, for Valentine's Day, I think I'll ask for an NRA membership, a subscription to "Rush 24/7", and maybe that Ted Nugent Hunting Newsletter. I an DEFINITELY not asking for flowers, or chocolate-covered strawberries, or a card!
Then we saw a commercial for Sherry's Berries... yummy chocolate-covered strawberries. Pull up a chair, boys and girls, and enjoy the lecture about how industrial agribusiness is killing the family farmer. PilotHusband actually pulled out our old VCR from a closet and hooked it up to the television so he could show me a tape of a FarmAid concert, circa 1985. Wow. John Mellencamp used to be pretty hot.
Oh, then we had to endure the Hallmark Greeting Card commercials. My PilotHusband, who shops for vehicles based on the HIGHEST average highway mileage per gallon (just to piss off all the tree huggers out there), has begun complaining about the excessive use of paper in greeting cards, and the collateral death of the poor innocent tree.
After 22 years, I know what comes next. Not since McCarthy, has there been a bigger forum for accusing people of communism. If you are a singer of love songs; BEWARE. Michael Buble, Blake Shelton, Josh Groban, Barry White, and Lionel Ritchie.... you are formally put on notice! Your insipid, sappy, seemingly heartfelt ditties will NOT be tolerated. You create unreal expectations and should be summarily shot (while charging your family for the bullet).
Sooooo.... this year, for Valentine's Day, I think I'll ask for an NRA membership, a subscription to "Rush 24/7", and maybe that Ted Nugent Hunting Newsletter. I an DEFINITELY not asking for flowers, or chocolate-covered strawberries, or a card!
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