_ (07/10/2009) How do I say this in a nice way? I don't. There are some really ugly children. This in and of itself is not a problem. The problem is that the parents of said children don't seem notice that their little angels look more like hobgoblins than humans. And if these parents happen to own a local business, they feel the need to assault both my eyes and ears with their talentless, little ogres
Every time I turn on the tube there are terrifyingly homely tots screaming at me through the screen with their monotone lisps, like a zombie version of Cindy Brady. A few offenders must be singled out. Like the parents who float blonde babies, stuffed into itsy bitsy bikinis and Barbie inner-tubes, around in a hot tub in an effort to sell home spas. I ask, isn't there a warning about that? Won't the 102° water boil their little organs? Yum...toddler tripe.
Then, there's always the creepy commercials made by the family who owns a construction, towing, or pest control company. Their offspring is always a chubby, redneck kid with a buzz cut, and if we're really lucky a rat tail. Inevitable, they put him in an ill-fitting tuxedo. Then, the little oaf hollers some asinine motto like, "Bugs bugging you? Let my Daddy squash 'em" while the camera pans so close that I can see the mucous dripping from his left flared nostril. I'm sure his mama thinks this television debut will catapult him to later WWF fame and fortune.
And then, there are all the ads that contain pianos and some sniveling little girl in a pinafore. In some cases, they are actually selling musical instruments. But in my favorite example, it is hearing aids they're hawking, which is completely ironic because the little girl has the most annoying voice to ever be recorded since Gilbert Gottfried. In it, Grandpa is devastated because he can't hear his precious princess plunk out some insipid tune on the old upright Steinway, so he upgrades his hearing aids. Poor, Grampy--once his Miracle Ear is inserted, the first sound to greet his ear is little Whiney Winifred droning on about how much she loves him in a nasal twang while staring blank-faced into space.
And, I cannot earn the full number of points I need to go straight to hell without mentioning the parents who capitalize on the fact that they have a disabled child to try to guilt the consumer into patronizing their store.
In this day of High Definition, I feel it more important than ever to issue this plea: Please, keep your ugly children off of my TV. Remember, you can give your darling dolt a script, but you can't make it act. Now...I'm going to go pack for hell.
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