Jun
6
We were watching So You Think You Can Dance last night — well, I was watching it and JB was manfully commenting on the various boobs and ass-cracks and so on; I wouldn’t want you to think he was legitimately entertained by some dancing show — and towards the end there was this mention of a corporate sponsor, and we had to hit pause because did they just say . . . SNUGGLE with FRESH RELEASE?
Yes, yes they did (do not click that link unless you want to be barraged with ridiculous audio, I include it only to prove the existence of this campaign).
Okay, I know I am twelve years old but COME ON. Snuggle with fresh release? I am having a hard time imagining that at no point during this product’s rollout did one single person tentatively raise their hand and say, hey, I’m really sorry to be the one to take it there, but is anyone else considering the semen-soaked implications of this brand identity?
Maybe it was the best of the bunch, you know? Maybe they nixed Snuggle with Happy Ending, and Snuggle with Nocturnal Emissions, and the immediately-discarded Kleenex/fabric softener cross-marketing concept, Snuggle with Facial Shot.
By the way, apparently for a while there you could even get a TWO LOAD sample of FRESH RELEASE.
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Weekly Elsewhere Blogging:
• The joy of potty training and the annoyance of those What to Expect books at ParentDish
• Arm-toning exercises at Gather.com
• Time-saving kitchen products at Work It, Mom!
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The weather is supposed to suck all weekend long. I suspect there will be a lot of this going on in our house:
Except that the box will likely be taped shut. What?
Jun
3
Dylan seems to be at a particularly binary stage of babydom: either he’s being ridiculously, almost putridly adorable, or he’s a rotten little hell-beast who should be reclassified as a WMD and parachuted into war zones.
One state begs more camera documentation than the other, obviously:
I realize I’m not capable of being entirely objective over here, but I’m pretty sure he’s cute.
He recently discovered his feet, and I can tell he wants so very, very badly to stuff them in his mouth.
Tonight out of nowhere Riley decided he wanted to feed Dylan and although the execution was clumsy, the little scene was so sweet I nearly leapt from my chair in order to delete this entry, because what madness had I been talking about, everything is so miraculous and amazing and heart-shatteringly beautiful; then Riley had a tantrum and Dylan yelled all during the Obama speech and I was all, oh yeah. But still: SO SWEET.
The reddish hair is killing me lately, ditto the flirty expressions.
Lastly,
Ah, can someone hand me the remote? Please?
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