The drama never ends in my life. Stories of my in laws antics are like a eternal running trashy soap opera. Now that I am over the huge depression their last antic threw me in; can you imagine having a migraine for 5 days. Not nice at all.
I am back as maliciously as I can. I will leave that episode for another post.
What have I been doing? Would you believe? Watching trashy soaps on Zee TV (collective GASPS of horror), and listening to the radio.
Advertising is like a virgin on a bad date. The events that lead into the night can either make or break her. Because when she says "NO", she invariably becomes the town slut. (Don't ask wtf that analogy is about, quite obviously all those pills I popped have seriously fried what gray matter there was).
Advert number 1.
Brand name : Geepas (electronics)
Content: A "HO" who mouths the catchphrase "A relationship for me is based on trust".
One look at her and her skanky booty and you know without a doubt the brand name is a misnomer. It should ideally be called "CHEAP ASS".
Advert number 2.
Brand name: Sonashi (electronics.)
Content : A phrase that goes like this: "Not all masterpieces hang on walls."
That's right darling. A look at any girly skinrag will tell you that some "hang" on the pages of Playgirl.
Advert number 3.
Brand name: Texas Chicken.
Content: An interviewer is asking a CHICKEN what makes him the ideal candidate.
This one is quite remarkable in its attempt at bad taste. A new fast food joint has opened up in AbuDhabi, and the chicken being served there has the following qualities which the chicken proceeds to so eloquently and in so grandiose a manner reveal.
If PETA hears this one I can tell you they will get all their collective cotton knickers in a mighty twist.
So, they are kept in an air-conditioned coop, and fed top quality grains. For what? Ummmmmm.... to be slaughtered, marinated , dipped in batter and deep fried.
Seems to me in very bad taste indeed, to be asking the chicken about the wonderful life he had up till the point when he wound up on some one's plate accompanied with french fries. I mean its really not the sort of chitchat one has with a condemned man or chicken in this case.
I wonder do they have to walk down "the last mile" to the slaughter, and all the other inmates have to chant "walking, dead chicken walking here!"