Targeted Advertising Part 1: The Rant

One of my many pet peeves–and likely one of yours–are those customized advertisements that show up on web sites we visit, trying to sell us stuff that we looked at on other web sites while really just reminding us it’s time to clean out our cache files.

Cheap, sexed-up stunt photo unabashedly employed to score a few extra hits.  Also, a really cute bra--bet it's uncomfortable as hell.
Cheap, sexed-up stunt photo unabashedly employed to score a few extra hits. Also, a really cute bra–bet it’s uncomfortable as hell.

I wouldn’t care so much if it was stuff I actually wanted to buy, but I’m not a profoundly vigorous shopper and I don’t generally look at commercial web pages unless I have a specific need.  If I look up socks, for example, the odds are pretty high that I’m going to buy some socks somewhere before I sign off.

Why is it, then, that when I do buy those socks I am forced to look at entirely worthless ads for the socks I just damn bought yesterday.  At no time do I need socks less than in the day or so after I just bought socks.  I haven’t even bothered to throw the old socks into the rag box yet.

Today I was looking at steel roofing for my garage--not as provocative as bras, but still pretty appealing, especially if you've got two leaks and a couple of soft spots.
Today I was looking at steel roofing for my garage–not as provocative as bras, but still pretty appealing, especially if you’ve got two leaks and a couple of soft spots.

And now I’m inundated by boobs.  Boobs everywhere.  Why?  Because last week my wife bought a couple of bras on my computer and I haven’t run my CCleaner in the intervening days.  I just wanted to rant on that–and it’s also funny to say “boobs.”  It’s such a funny word for one of the core components of the universe, without which our entire species would have died out centuries ago (or mutated into something unrecognizable as human, thanks to all the “better living through chemisty” components in baby formula.  And yet: boobs.  It’s like naming an athlete named “Milton” or a genius called “Kevin.”

Funny and/or Strange Photo I Like

The, uh, Stockings Were Filled By The Chimney With Care

My onslaught of seasonal Junk continues….
stockings by chimney


Valentine’s Day Gifts

Beginning with full disclosure: historically speaking, I’ve always failed at this one–at least, that’s the attitude I take into it.  Some guys are assorted-color-alstroemeria-flowers-wholesale-flowers-globalrose zangling for surprise, acrobatic sexual compensation for their Valentine’s triumphs, but I’m just holding my breath and hoping for an indifferent shrug, or anything that is not patently disappointed.  How many Valentines minds have I blown in my lifetime?  Exactly none.  None minds.  I am fortunate, however –my wife likes flowers a lot, so I can’t really go wrong there, and despite all rhyme and reason she likes me, so flowers and a night out generally suffices–but I still crave that sudden moment of Valentine’s Day inspiration that would leave her shell-shocked, possibly struggling to remember to breathe and, should dreams really come true, in a partial state of undress.images  I keep wracking my brain, but I get nuthin.

N-U-T-H-I-N.  Unless….

I’m not counting my chickens before my eggs hatch, nor counting eggs before the chickens even lay them, but there is hope.  CBS News did a poll that provides some insight into making at least a “satisfactory” gesture this year.

Click to access CBS_News_Poll_Jan2014b_ValentinesDay.pdf

Lingerie_model_smoking_in_an_office_3d02388uWhat am I up to this year?  Since my wife has been know to scroll around here, I’d better not say.  One thing I’ll assure you: it’s not lingerie, which came in just above “flu shot” at 8%, although I think CBS got it wrong with the lingerie thing: lingerie isn’t for the ladies.  They may be the ones who wear it, but that stuff is for us.  There’s a chance you could pull this off if you’re, say, under 25 and your girl favors anal floss g-strings, but don’t trying bringing garters and hose home to the Mrs.  She won’t appreciate it.  Better to do some housework–something really obvious–and stop by the candy store, or “chocolaterie” if you must.  Hell, a shell pack of mexican strawberries and a can of Hershey’s syrup gives you a better chance than Frederick’s.  Unless your girl is a prostitute–and even then, what she really wants is probably a night off, and maybe Richard Gere--not some self-serving synthetic silk underwear from a transparent plotter like you.  Don’t get me wrong–there may be a time and a place, some cold boring night in January, maybe–it’s just not Valentine’s Day.


Only One Shopping Week Until Valentine’s Day


I never do a great job with this one, I suppose the right gift idea falls somewhere between a house plant and some ridiculous lingerie.  Any ideas?