A Memo Concerning BBQ Tongs, Interventions, and Tag Body Spray

Let me preface the following memo by saying that if you feel I am targeting you specifically, or you believe I am trying to shield a private intervention behind the veil of a public declaration then please stop thinking about me and my involvement in this tragedy because the problem is not me it is clearly you. Simply trust that I have your best intentions in mind, intentions which can perfectly disguise my own pursuit of happiness and quest for the destruction of the everyday absurd. I'm sure there is a simpler way to express the sentiment of this preface, but I have never been one for brevity. But, if I was I'd say: If you think this is about you, then it is, and even more so than the individuals who this is about but who don't realize it. Tolerant.

The topic at hand here is Tag Body Spray. I'm sure you are all familiar with the product and its ridiculous TV ads. They begin with an awkward washed-up 30 year old actor trying to play the roll of pubescent boy. He walks like he has just wiped his ass with sand paper then had his nipple hair plucked with a pair of BBQ tongs, so pretty much like no warm blooded homo-sapien ever walks. It is soon discovered that our poor young proTAGanist is being ignored by the mongolian hoard of "OC" casting-call rejects and "Next" contestants that surround him.

(I am tempted to go on a tangent about mongolian hoards like these and the paradox that is a group of classless females struggling their hardest to make their appearance stand out from each other, but whose collective struggle tragically makes them all predictable and ignorable, and who then bizarrely find it possible to ignore a "loser" who behaves like an alien. But going on that tangent would make babies eat their own feces so I wont.)

So what does our proTagonist do in order to gain favor of a group of boring sluts who have no morals and low self-esteem? He pulls out a can with "Am I deodorant or am I cologne?" identity issues and sprays it all over himself. Miraculously this triggers an even further drop in self-esteem for the mongolian hoard of American Eagle dressed sluts as they proceed to attack our proTagonist in lustful grabs and dry humps. At this point I usually blackout completely only to come to at the conclusion of the commercial as we see the can of deodo-logne pump to the horrendously fake moans of a female (Dude, the last thing I want to thing I want to hear when thinking about courting females are fake orgasms.) I mean at the end of the commercial they might as well call it It Will Get You Laid Spray.What happened to subtlety? What happened to Game and class? I’m sorry, but if you use this product I’m forced to conclude that you have given up on all three of these elements of courtship and finagling and prefer to feast on what I like to call facade sluts. Do you use the product because you can relate to the proTagonist? Are you really trying to pull chicks who want to get scandy with you because you smell like chemicals? Are you desperate enough to believe in the wildly obvious– and false-- premise of its advertising? Have things grown that hopeless? Of course they haven’t so why do you choose to use a product that openly questions your intelligence, game, class and ability to pull chicks? FUCK YOU TAG, WHO SAID WE NEEDED YOU?

The bottom line is, if you use Tag chances are you are trying way too hard and sacrificing your dignity in doing so. Listen I’m no Don Juan or Errol Flynn and I’ll never claim to be. When I get laid and friends ask how I pulled it off seldom do I have a logical answer which points to anything that I “did.” Maybe I’m just passive when it comes to naked time and I’m pretty sure my sex life is just the product of blind luck. I don’t really know how it works I just know that it happens and when it does its rad. I do know one thing– there is no chick in the world worth numbing your intelligence, sacrificing your dignity, or forgetting your class for. To sum it all up: No cool chick digs tag and I only let cool chicks do me.