Michael: Hokay, look — I don’t know what the deal here is, but Old Crappy has obviously gone off their rocker. Are they suggesting you get your ass scanned? Tattooed, so it can be “read?” Branded on the ranch? I don’t know if I should be offended … confused … or what….
Tara: What you should be is offended. But alas, you’re not a girl. You are a parent though, so won’t it be great to hear your daughters (and boys in school) chanting, “Booty booty booty?” How degrading!
Michael: In the day, old school booty reading was “copping a feel.” (Something that still works to this day, by the by.) You don’t need any porcelain-faced showroom dummy to “read booty.”
Tara: And! Old Navy only makes sizes that are MINUSCULE as well. Further degradation. “We have sizes for all booties” is not the case here. They obviously think women and girls are built like skinny 12 year old BOYS. Don’t get me started!
Michael: So … we are rather solidaritous in our dislike of Old Crappy on this particular booty front. How refreshing!
Tara: Don’t tell anyone. Oh man. Maybe I’m coming down with something! *feels own forehead, makes cold compress, and lays down*
Michael: Speaking of cold compresses *raises eyes to the heavens* … have you noticed those mannequins? They’re creepy! No-lip-moving mannequin creepiness performing booty assessments! *eeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwww*
Tara: Very, very Vincent Price. And you know what else is creepy? Seems in Mannequin World you stick your ass in another woman’s face just because she’s wearing a turban.
Michael: Mannequins. Who can figure them out? I can’t. And! Who negotiated their contract to do an Old Crappy ad? I’ve heard they’re difficult to work with. But … I guess I’d be difficult to work with, too, if I had a metal rod crammed up the back of my front….
Tara: Yeah. Like you don’t. We all believe you, Michael. Tell us another one. I worked with a mannequin once. He was very stiff.
Michael: He was the brains of the operation, I take it?
Tara: *wonders if cold compresses work for annoyance. Decides to chance it, and slaps it on anew*
Ahh, but Tara would be singing a different tune were she afforded the opportunity to tattoo a bar code on her Gordon’s booty, yes indeed!
*POST AUTHOR*
I have not thought of Gordon Ramsay’s butt unitl just this second. Does anyone buy that??
. . . . .
… NO …
. . . . .
No doubt. She changes tunes at the drop of a hat.
Her nickname is Radio, y’know …
I absolutely hate mannequins (and ventriloquist dummies and non-Jim-Henson puppets). They disturb me in the same way that clowns seem to disturb other people. For that reason, I find this commercial horrific.
*POST AUTHOR*
Oh noes. She said “clowns” around Michael … someone talk him down. I’m too tired.
. . . . .
… freakin’ clowns …
I think this is one of the dumbest of the “supermodelquin” commercials so far. This, and the RL women trying out to be the next ‘supermodelquin’, though this one wins by a far margin.
I haven’t had any problem finding jeans in my size (14 or 16, I’m certainly *not* a size 2), but they stop at 42 in Men’s and hubby is just now able to buy pants in store.
*POST AUTHOR*
Lisana, you must have a small booty. *is jealous*
Mannequins…**shiver** had nightmares after a Twilight Zone episode.
. . . . .
I was rather the same way with Will Smith’s I Am Legend that came out in ’07, Mikki.
The mannequins gave me a touch of the creeps. And Will’s character, talking to them, didn’t do anything for my nerves, either.
I don’t ever find the Old Navy ads creepy, yet there is just something in everyone of them that nags at me till I am completely annoyed and must change the channel.