Good one! LOL
Joe
Jesus is the reason for the season.
----- Original Message -----
From: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
To: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Sent: Sunday, December 21, 2003 8:32 AM
Subject: [RollTideFan] Are you ready for some Dave Berry?
> It's Sunday: Are you ready for some intimidation?
> Dave Barry
>
> Let's say you're a middle-aged guy. It's a Sunday afternoon, and
> you're planning to relax by watching a little football, defined
> as "11 consecutive hours of football."
> You settle on the sofa and turn on the pregame show, and the first
> thing you see is a commercial for a pickup truck. This is followed by
> another commercial for a pickup truck, and then, for a change of
> pace, several more commercials for pickup trucks. Then there's about
> 45 seconds of men talking about football, followed by still more
> commercials for pickup trucks.
> At this point, you start to wonder if you're the only guy in America
> who doesn't drive a pickup truck. You drive a Toyota Camry, because
> in your line of work - accountant - the largest payload you haul is
> Chinese food.
> But you are envious of the men in the truck commercials - manly,
> bulging men, with manly, bulging vehicles; men who handle large
> tools; men who do not mind getting sweaty and dirty. In the morning,
> when white-collar Camry drivers like you are applying underarm
> deodorant, these men are deliberately perspiring and smearing dirt on
> their bodies, preparing to go work on the rig.
> That's where the men in truck commercials always work: on a rig. You
> have never, in your accounting career, been involved with a rig.
> You're not sure what a "rig" is. But now you wish you had one. You
> have rig envy.
> Of course you could not get to the rig in your Camry, because you
> have to drive over boulders. That's how your TV-commercial-truck-
> drivin' guy always gets to his rig: He drives over the largest
> boulders. If he can't find any boulders, he simulates them by banging
> his head violently against the roof of his cab. That's how manly he
> is.
> And he needs to be manly, for there is trouble at the rig. There is
> always trouble at the rig, in TV-Truck-Commercial-Land, and it always
> requires the truck-drivin' man to save the day by hitchin' his truck,
> with a heavy chain, to some massive object - a tree, a building, a
> tectonic plate, Sen. Edward M. Kennedy - and towin' it up a boulder-
> strewn mountain. Then, it's quittin' time, as indicated by the sound
> of Bob Seger shrieking "Like a rock! Oooooooowww, like a rock!" with
> the intense, sincere passion of a man who has a rabid shrew in his
> undershorts.
> By the 15th pickup-truck commercial, you are no longer able to focus
> on the pregame show, because you're feeling deeply insecure about the
> size of your Camry. You wonder if you could trade it in for a pickup.
> Of course, you'd have to convince your wife that there were practical
> benefits. ("Look, honey! It has a 1,700-pound payload! I could carry
> 250 gallons of wonton soup!") But your wife would never see the need
> for a truck. She is - face it - a woman.
> And just then, when you're starting to get really depressed, they
> finally stop showing truck commercials. You heave a sigh of relief,
> only to realize they are now showing Viagra commercials. Dozens of
> them, interspersed with Levitra commercials. They're all basically
> the same: A man - a rugged man, far more manly than you - openly
> acknowledges that he had problems with his rig. But then he took a
> pill, and, ZING, he can perform again! He can play professional
> baseball! He can (winkwink) throw a football through a tire!
> You try to ignore these commercials. You tell yourself you don't
> need this product. But then you remember all those nights when, after
> a long day, you went into the bedroom, and your wife wanted you to -
> in fact, practically begged you to - throw the football through the
> tire. But you were "too tired."
> So now, on the sofa, you are a husk of your former self, a man with
> a tiny shriveled Camry, wondering if you should ask your doctor about
> Viagra. But that would mean going to the doctor's office, which, in
> your imagination, has a giant neon sign outside that says "VIAGRA
> DOCTOR, PROVIDING VIAGRA FOR GUYS WHO NEED VIAGRA." Also in your
> imagination there are pickup-drivin' guys outside the doctor's
> office, workin' on some kind of rig. As you drive up in your Camry,
> they give you noogies through your moonroof.
> This is what you're picturing as you lie on your sofa, curled into
> the fetal position, when finally, mercifully, the pregame show comes
> to an end, and the actual game is about to start.
> Are you ready for some football?
> No.
>
>
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