Do you get the sense that Bush’s Baked Beans has an advertising budget larger than Anheuser-Busch? I have TiVo and I still can’t escape the commercials featuring that fat bald man and his talking dog.
The gist of the commercials is as follows: the dog wants to steal the “secret family recipe” so he can sell it on the market much like an art thief pawning off a Rembrandt. Of course, this is pure unadulterated horseshit. First off, baked beans are beans mixed with sugar; there isn’t really a “secret” to it, assholes. Secondly, even if there were such a recipe, what jackass out there is looking to start a baked beans business on the back of pilfered recipes?
Which brings me to my final point. Have you ever – I mean ever – seen anyone come up to you and say, “I think I’ll go out and buy a fucking gallon of baked beans”? I sure as hell haven’t. I lived in the Midwest for four years and have been in Cali for the past four and I’ve never heard anyone list baked beans as their favorite food. Except for my Pops.
You see, the Brits (and by extension, the Indos) love baked beans. We eat them by spreading them on pieces of toast and sprinkling cheese on top. We love ’em.
But that market sure as hell isn’t big enough to justify all the retard commercials. Does anyone know the answer? Please share if you do 🙂
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I consider myself to be an extremely perceptive fella. Of course I do; I love myself.
That’s why the past few days have convinced me beyond reasonable doubt that there exists a secret society. Of bald men.
Ever since I shaved my head clean in a fit of fancy, I’ve noticed the difference. Every bald dude (natural or un-) nods knowingly at me when they run into me on the street. Or at the gym. Or at Whole Foods. It’s creepy, folks. Trust me.
I wonder what such a society’s purpose could be. Could they discuss clipper reviews? Is it possible that Larry David is a founding member? Could it be that they poke voodoo pins into a giant Johnny Depp doll?
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From an acquaintance upon being greeted (for the first time) with my rather round bald head:
You look like a Mexican who just got out of Pelican Bay.
So the baldness thing went over far better than what years of watching George Costanza had led me to believe. Nobody – so far – has turned and run in the opposite direction, shrieking for mercy as they do so. No woman has told me that I took a huge turn for the worse since last week – maybe they’re just being nice, but what the hey 🙂
I’ve also heard other non-derogatory things like:
- You look like you lost weight.
- You look better than you did last week.
- You have a really, really round head. [ed: uh, okay]
Could baldness be the new cure to all the problems faced by the superficial man? Could it??! Could Larry David have been wrong all along?! No, say it ain’t so!
Many years ago, a great, wise, bald man known for his undying honesty wrote an autobiography called “My Experiments With Truth”. He inspired a whole generation of world citizens, including MLK Jr. – who applied his principles to the civil rights movement – and myself. But since I’m not particularly truthful and nowhere near the term wise, I decided to just go bald.
Okay, just kidding.
I was hanging out at that chic Palo Alto haircut joint – SuperCuts, have you heard of it? – when the shave-your-head thought occurred to me. I had gone in there to get my regular el-cheapo trim and suddenly changed my mind. But the soul quivered at such blasphemy. My beautiful hair! Could I really let it go just for kicks? I waffled while my barber – a Vietnamese man with a receding hairline made careful, minor clips, unaware of the storm brewing within my skull.
I asked the Vietnamese gentleman – “Should I take the whole thing off?”. He looked at me like I’d just denounced dog meat. It was really my decision, he said, indicating that his tip usually didn’t cover Jonathan-Anton-style-fashion-consulting. That’s what I get for heading into a squalid SuperCuts. Barbers who can’t even make recommendations.
A minute later, I pulled the trigger and told him to go for it. I felt like…Herm Edwards handing the ball to Priest Holmes and benching LJ in a third and down situation. Okay, sorry about that one.
When the guy ran his beast of a clipper through the middle of my head and took all the hair with it, it really hit me. My head now looked like a crop circle victim with one clean stripe of skin running through hair on both sides. Ouch.
When I walked out of there, I was forever a changed man. A man with now mane. Whatever. It was a done deal. I was a bald man.
Here are some things you should know about being bald:
- It is sort of hard to shampoo a shaved head.
- Every mirror walk-by is a scary surprise.
- The air seems to whiz by your ears a whole lot more with no hair for protection.
- I’ve heard that women have a very binary response to male baldness; they either love it or hate it, no in-betweens. I’ll have to wait and watch for that one, don’t know yet.
I’ll report more as a find out. Subscribe here to stay updated!