I'm prettier than you are.
Monday, 24 February 2003
At the End of His Rope

Fuckin' floss!  Damn it!

This is a photo I took last night of a TV commercial for some product whose name I cannot even remember. It has something to do with cleaning between your teeth. It's electronic or battery-operated and comes with lots of parts and apparatus. I think it was described it as a "system". It may have been described as "revolutionary", but I'm not too sure. I didn't really listen. I was too fixated on this schmuck.

Apparently flossing one's teeth is a difficult undertaking. Apparently it involves some sort of struggle. A struggle so frustrating and all-consuming that the situation needs to be remedied by replacing it with a new, less stressful inter-dental system.

I don't know about this. I am quite possibly the least patient person in the world and very good friends with frustration. But not once, while flossing, have I wrestled with the floss like this guy. Not once has panic crossed my face as I flossed. And I have never thrown my hands up in defeat during a particularly stressful floss situation.

There's definitely something wrong with someone who lets floss get the better of him. When things get that bad, I suggest you take that floss, braid together as many strands as necessary to form a strong rope, and hang yourself from your shower rod. And then everyone can mourn your sorry floss of life.

fresh-baked at 08:58 AM