Yeah, you know I really wanted to say, “Shut the fuck up,” but I thought I’d leave the REAL cursing for the post rather than the title. Believe it or not, I don’t want to constantly offend the entire world. Well, on most days at least.
Let me tell you a little story. Back during the summer between 7th and 8th grade I’d go to the pool all the time. I was just starting to blossom into womanhood and was uncomfortable enough with periods and new boobs and boys and weird hair and wearing deodorant. It was all a little overwhelming when puberty struck. Anyway, that particular day I was off to the pool with a friend of mine and we had to show our pool IDs to the pool ID guy. As it turned out, the pool ID guy was one of the hottest guys in our town. His name was Ricky and every girl (and I’m sure plenty of guys) wanted to be his sweetheart. He was simply beautiful. Drool… Anyway, I digress… So, Ricky had a little black and white TV up at his ID checking station. Since he couldn’t see the pool area from his post and check out all the hot bodied girls, he needed something to occupy his time, right?
Well, there my girlfriend and I are, passing him our IDs and trying to make small talk with this heavenly god of a boy and all of a sudden a maxi pad commercial came on the TV. SHIT!!!! What should I do? I can’t stay here and let him think that because I’m a girl that I have to deal with those things. I don’t want him thinking of me as a bleeder!! NOOOOOO!! ARRRRRRGH!!!! So, what did we do? We ran screaming into the girl’s locker room. Yep, the most mature thing we could come up with was running away like our hair was on fire. In all honesty, I was blushing so bad it felt like my face was on fire. How absolutely horrible to have the fact that I have girl parts that do oogie things thrown into Ricky’s face as we all stood there scantily clad in barely-there bikinis. It was quite simply too much to bear.
After hiding in the locker room for about 10 minutes and getting our breath back, we ventured out to the pool. We were both still so embarrassed about the pad commercial that we stayed at the pool, turning into deeply suntanned raisins, until Ricky’s shift was over. There was NO WAY IN HELL we were going to walk past him that day. Nope. No how. No way. Unh unh.
Now, I realize that may seem like an overreaction in today’s world, but remember, this was back in 1983. Girls and boys did not discuss the kinds of stuff that we now feel free to openly discuss with the poor mailman or the chick at the Gap. Back then, we had a bit more decorum. Obviously, I got over some of that. But NOT ALL!!! There are still things I would no sooner discuss with my husband than I would with the Pope. There are certain things that should remain a mystery. What happens south of the border should be among those things. So, in case you haven’t figured it out, here’s my beef: I am sooooooooo sick of hearing about the foulness of body parts I could vomit until I passed out from exhaustion. Damn, that’s a lot of vomiting.
Let’s address these disgusting products with at least a modicum of truth.
- Massengill. NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR IF A WOMAN HAS A “NOT SO FRESH” FEELING! For fuck’s sake, how gross and disgusting can a commercial be? Gentlemen, please believe me when I say that women do not bond over discussing such things while skipping through a field of lavender wearing bonnets and free-flowing white skirts. I’m going to say that no woman (as far as you know) has ever encountered a not-so-fresh feeling because our nether regions are yummy like an ice cream sundae. But on the slim-to-none chance that one ever did (which I doubt) they sure as shit would not have a conversation about it like is depicted in those stupid commercials.
- Vagisil. Ummm…women KNOW what the hell you are good for. Must you spell it out like we are retarded? Honest to God, I was eating dinner the other night and nearly puked up my food when I saw one of their commercials. I’m a GIRL and I nearly upchucked my dinner. I can only imagine how disgusting it is for men to have to suffer through them. GROSS!!! Here’s my real issue with it: Women know if something is amiss and know (unless sheltered by parents who refuse to admit that their daughter has girl parts) how to go about getting it fixed. We do NOT need details on the icky issue and we do not need to know every symptom to be on the lookout for. Because if you remind us of all the gross symptoms on NATIONAL FUCKING TV DURING DINNER, how on earth do you ever expect a man to wanna go down there again??? Generally speaking, we like a man to crave our body parts. We want men to dream about that wonderful spot and long for it on a daily basis. We do NOT want them reminded that sometimes there is a “Closed for Business” sign on it for one reason or another. Can there be no mystery left???
- Preparation H. Good Lord have mercy. Yes, I’m sure having the issue that needs the attention of Preparation H is not pleasant. I can only imagine that it sucks. But Preparation H has been around since the dawn of time and I’m fairly sure most of us know what it’s used for, so MUST we go into detail on the itching and burning? Really? Must we? I mean, gross. Can you just say, “If you are having problems with your back door, use Preparation H”? Do the commercials really have to get as graphic as a visit to the proctologist? Ugh. Ick.
- Gold Bond Medicated Powder. Info on this should be passed down from dad to son, or uncle to son, or health class teacher to the boys. Just like men don’t want to hear about Vagisil, we don’t want to hear about men’s spicy, itchy man sacks. Just as our girl parts are like an ice cream sundae, your man parts should remain a fun playground for our enjoyment. I don’t want to wretch thinking about all the symptoms Gold Bond relieves.
- Charmin. My husband was so horrified by the most recent Charmin commercial that he made me sit through it just to horrify me too. It’s nice how couples do that kind of stuff! This particular one was a cartoon of a Mama bear peeking into her baby bear’s undershorts and grimacing by what she saw, while baby bear peeks in the window watching her inspect his undies. It was sooooooooo gross!! Do they really think that by softening it up with cute, animated bears that it is any less disgusting? Can’t we all agree that we ALREADY FUCKING KNOW what TP is for and don’t need it shoved in our faces in such an icky manner. I mean, really, who wants to picture what she was seeing in his underwear? But you can’t help but visualize it in your mind’s eye. Seriously, that is soooo nasty. Can we please bring back Mr. Ripple and the “Don’t squeeze the Charmin” ads? So much less filthy and nasty.
- Always and Stayfree. I’d venture to say that in this day and age, with the Internet and a much-lowered filter (I’m guilty of not having much of a filter!) that a great percentage of girls and certainly all women know what a maxi-pad is. Do we need to actively remind everyone what women have to suffer from, in graphic detail, every month? Is it not enough that Eve ate the damn apple and cursed us with Aunt Ruby’s monthly visit? Do we need to show with liquid how much more absorbent one pad is over the other. It’s all marketing bullshit anyway, so is it that important to have demonstrations? I guess I should just be happy that they use blue water instead of red. ICKY!!! Worse yet are the tampon commercials. Those show women doing the splits on a trampoline so they can give us a crotch shot to prove that there’s no string hanging out and no leaks. Again–GROSS!!! Those commercials are a crotch-fest. I’ve never seen so much poon outside of a porn. What got into their brains that they thought this was acceptable??? Just wrong, I tells ya. Wrong.
Whew! That was exhausting!
Now, I full on realize that I am fairly filter-free. I pretty much say what I think, using whatever coarse language I want. But here’s the difference: if you don’t want to read my mouthiness, you don’t have to. You can say, “Good Lord, but that girl is foul!!! I’m never reading her blog again!” And you’d be all set. You’d never have to be horrified by my sass-mouth again. We don’t have that option with today’s commercials. They are served up to us, so often during the dinner hour, and we cannot escape them quite as easily as you can escape me. If these commercials would cut down to 15 seconds and just tell you the basics at a very high level and then for more info you can visit their website, I could live with that. Then they could overwhelm you with any gross thing they want on their website that you voluntarily went to. But to force it down our throats while we are watching TV in mixed company is just awful. Especially, if you are watching it with a mother- or father-in-law. Or a grandparent. Yicky!!!
Okay, that’s my rant of the week. I’ve thought these things for 30+ years and it’s so nice to finally have an avenue for spewing on and on about it!! For those of you who stuck it out through this diatribe, bless your sweet and patient hearts! XOXOXO
PS: If the conversation in this video ever actually happened, I’ll eat my hat.