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There’s something wrong with my wife. Yeah, she’s definitely not normal. I saw her loading the clothes washer and she wasn’t singing. She wasn’t dancing. She wasn’t even smiling. In fact, she seemed downright bored. For some reason, doing the laundry didn’t fulfill a cosmic sense of purpose for her. Come to think of it, there was no lively background music either.
We must be using the wrong brand of detergent.
I should have known from the start that there was a problem with her. She has pores on her face. From watching television, I know for a fact that women aren’t supposed to have pores. I’ve suggested that she come into my workshop and let me power-sand her face, but she’s not being very cooperative. You know, when she promised to “love and obey” me, I thought the emphasis was on the “obey” part. I may have to ask the preacher for my money back.
Well, I should probably stop complaining about my wife. I’m probably sleeping on the couch tonight (if I’m lucky that is; we do have a shed outside).
But I digress. What I wanted to talk about was the commercial insanity dumped on the American public. Television, magazines, radio, junk mail, junk e-mail, internet Pop-ups, phone solicitations.
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