Previous “Questions” posts

Bad Ads: Five Questions for Hot Pockets Sideshots

Friday, April 22nd, 2011

Hot Pockets, the microwaveable dinner of sorrow and remorse, has a new TV commercial. The ad, entitled Brothers, is touting their Sideshots sandwiches1. While most commercials are intended to be informative, this one leaves me with many more questions than answers. So, five questions for Nestle about Hot Pockets Sideshots:

  • Why does Buffalo Chicken have a stutter?

  • Why is Sloppy Joe so obviously stoned?

  • Despite boasting about tasting great, your anthropomorphized sandwiches are clearly terrified of being eaten. What sort of reluctant suicide food is this?

  • Are you aware that you’re singing your theme with the same blasé tone and inflection Jim Gaffagan uses in his Hot Pockets standup routine2, specifically when he says “Diarrhea pockets”?

  • Would it be possible to have your product look any more like a bowel movement?

    Hot Pockets Sideshots Cheeseburgers
    A steaming pile of sideshots.


Footnotes:

  1. Archived right here. ↩︎

  2. Archived as well. ↩︎

Questions About the Virgins

Wednesday, August 12th, 2009

Yesterday I posted an offhand comment to Twitter:

  • 72 virgins doesn’t sound like my idea of heaven. It sounds like a lot of really lousy sex.

This referred to the belief held by some Muslims that in paradise, they’ll be granted 72 virgins. I’m not really interested in the religious aspects of this, but the concept itself strikes me as rather ridiculous. Some questions:

  • As indicated, virgins are going to be inexperienced sexually. Is that really much of a reward?

  • So maybe virgins are your kink. But are these women virginal just once? If that’s the reward, you’re really going to want to make it last. One a year might seem like you’re taking it slowly, until you remember that you’re there for eternity. How do you ration 72 across infinity?

  • Alright, perhaps these are magical virgins, whose virginity regenerates. If so, I want to know one thing: Just how evil was the poor schmuck who’s stuck washing the sheets in heaven?

I’ve obviously been thinking about this a bit too much.