skot AT izzlepfaff DOT com
Friday, 26 March
OXY! For fuck's sake!
[Television on. A mustachioed, blocky man runs onstage excitedly; he appears to be made entirely of solid meat, without any internal structure at all. He screams all the time, and is in no way appealing or enjoyable, much like Colin Quinn. He, in fact, is very nearly worse than Colin Quinn, but not quite, because that is impossible.]
THE POWER OF OXY! HAVE YOU HARNESSED THE POWER OF OXY?
YOU ROTTEN FUCKS!
[Pause. He mops his meat-brow.]
I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I have pituitary issues. Let's talk about oxygen--the power of OXY!
It's everywhere these days, isn't it? You've seen my detergent ads? The power of Oxy gang-rapes the fuck out of those wine stains, huh? It practically tapes their mouths shut and violates those stains! And those stains were asking for it. You know they were. And don't even get me started on the carpet cleaners! Oxy makes those carpet stains its prison bitches! Ground-in dirt? Let me tell you something: ground-in dirt sucks Oxy's cleaning power off whenever Oxy is bored.
And Oxy isn't stopping here! Fuck no! Oxy won't rest until Oxy is like fucking Galactus! [The yammering asshole presses his terrible face against the camera lens ominously.] Oxy won't be happy until it eats your living asshole. YOU. THE CONSUMER.
[Suddenly gratingly breezy again.] For example! We've got Oxy Arch Supports! Using--you know it!--the power of oxygen! Let me demonstrate! [Cut to a sobbing, gagged man strapped down on to a gurney.] This man suffers from fallen arches. But with these new Oxy Arch Supports--[cut to the man's shuddering feet, which are clad in ugly sneakers]--no more podiatry! [The yammering asshole suddenly smashes the bound man's feet with a sledge hammer. The victim screams piteously, and thrashes like a flounder.] See? See how I introduce the oxygen? [After a few more enthusiastic blows with the sledge, we mercifully move away.]
But that's not all. The POWER OF OXY is too potent for just housecleaning and hobbling! No, not at all! Oxy has now been introduced into our new line of home cooking. May I introduce . . . Oxy Pizza! [A stacked woman nervously brings out a frozen pizza, holding it as if it were radioactive.] This thing is . . . thanks, Stella . . . well, it's fucking crazy awesome. I wish I could fuck this pizza! I WANT TO OXY-FUCK THIS PIZZA! [The yammering asshole awkwardly mounts the frozen pizza and makes disturbing pelvic gestures. He screams like a wounded animal.] OXY-COCK! OXY-COCK! [Offstage directors wave frantically. The yammering asshole regains his composure and continues, climbing down from the counter.]
But the POWER OF OXY is not limited to cleaning aids, foot repair, or kitchen seasonings. Not at all. Oxy is also making inroads with the medical community. [The yammering asshole suddenly becomes grave.] Many Americans suffer from hemmorhoids. Maybe you--or a loved one--are one of these people. Well, Oxy is here to help. Do you want the power of oxygen to help you? Because our new OxySuppositories can do just that. Let me demonstrate. I have piles like you wouldn't believe. They look like Halloween in Detroit. [Camera shot of the yammering asshole removing his pants and inserting a suppository. Screams of terror are heard from the studio audience.]
Yes, it IS exciting! Never before has the power of oxygen been harnessed for rectal care! [He proudly waves his ass.] Can you at home hear that? It sounds like a pound of bacon in a skillet! [Awful popping noises are heard via enhanced audio.] It's literally cooking away the damaged tissue! I wish you could smell this, folks. It smells like . . . home. [The yammering asshole adopts a dreamy expression.]
So, you've seen the power of OXY. It cleans garments. It relieves terrible foot pain. It will enhance your pizza experience. At it will ream out your diseased ass like nobody's business with God's own wildfire.
Can you afford not to buy OXY? CAN YOU? My bubbling ass says . . . you can't.
Note: Comments are closed on old entries.
It's good to see he's still on the OXY! thing--those of us who knew him from the ORANGE CLEAN days all suspected that deep-down he knew he was shilling for a washed-up wussy cleanser. And don't get me started on the near-career-suicide that was his brief flirtation with that grab-shit-off-high-shelves stick thingy.
I think he may also be heavily involved with some kind of painkiller or other. OXYcontin. That's some manly shit right there.
I want to be a terrifying alien Herald of OXY, please. Preferably a weird androgynous metallic one with a surfboard, who will slowly learn about compassion and -- dare I hope? -- love.
Let's see if this comment works any better than the last (that one's still mired in submission hell--Holy Crap! It came up like 100 times. Sorry Skot--can you delete them?). After I posted it, I found this priceless site: Billy Mays Mayhem. It's complete with a gallery of hilarious faces, a sound bank (hear Billy shout "Wooooood drys out!") and some kind if disturbing fan mail relating to the appeal of his (very likely but as yet undisplayed) simian hairiness.
That is uncanny. Back before I retired to lead a life of leisure with a toddler shouting orders at me all day, I was (she says modestly) the marketing genius behind Green Giant canned vegetables.
Now here's the uncanny part: we were just about to shoot a similar ad.
A little kid (could we get something ethnic? No! No TOO ethnic, you idiots) would be pushing his vegetables around a dinner plate. His parents would wring their hands in despair in the background. Then the Green Giant would smash through the wall (butch him up a bit- scarier, like The Hulk) and, looming over the kid, bellow, "Eat that corn, you pissant little fuck!" Cut to the Ho Ho Hos doing the macarena in a thong and a smile... perfect.
OK, it's not exactly identical, but I think we'd definitely use the same agency.
This is, far and away, your best entry in ages. OXY-COCK shall forever remain in my vocabulary, henceforth.
Amen! Kneel to the power of OXY-COCK!
It's entries like this that make me *so happy* you didn't just change the channel.
Man, you are so wonderfully sick and twisted. I love it. Entries like this keep coming back to me (like the garlic in Korean food) for days, making me burst out snickering at the most inopportune times. Keep it up.
Orange-based cleansers and Oxy-Clean work pretty darn well, but sometimes when I'm using them I get this urge to gnaw off one of my appendages. Any appendage, doesn't matter.
Hell is where you get thrown in the hospital for a week and the LOL in the next bed over watches the shopping channels at maximum volume TWENTY-FOUR HOURS A DAY. It's enough to make you fantasize that you're adopted and actually belong to a different species.
thank you for the household tips. i wrote them down and mailed them to my granny. i like that i can come to your website and find something useful every time. keep up the good work.
All the OXY hype would be better if the products actually worked.
Hell is where you get thrown in the hospital for a week and the LOL in the next bed over watches the shopping channels at maximum volume TWENTY-FOUR HOURS A DAY.
I hear in the ninth circle you are ritually given a thousand paper cuts with your apology letters to Yngve.
What is this OXY of which you speak? Please put me on your direct mailing list, posthaste. Or pre-haste, I don't care. I ask you to call me at home, to leap out of the decorative shrubs and tackle my wife on the way to the market.
I must know more of this white man's magic that you call OXY.
I ground your skull into dust. Then I added water to the skulldust to make a paste. The paste makes it TEN TIMES AS PARFUL! MAKE A PASTE AND MAKE IT TEN TIMES AS PARFUL!
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