Driving home from work, I pass a sign that reads:

TUESDAY SPECIAL
QUARTER ROASTED CHICKEN $5.95

And I have a number of thoughts, the first of which is:

• I believe I would prefer to have my chicken roasted for the the full four quarters.

Which is followed immediately by:

• Strip clubs serve chicken?

Which is right on the heels of:

• Are they really expecting me to chose which adult entertainment establishment I patronise based solely on the quality of their entrées? Isn’t that like picking a surgeon based on the selection of magazines they have in the waiting room? Because, while the magazines might be a diverting perk for a moment or two, it would not be [insert wild gesticulation here] in ANY sense of the imagination [end wild gesticulation] a deciding factor in my decision-making process. “Honey? HONEYCOMEHERERIGHTNOW! He has ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY! Ohmigodohmigodohmigod! He even has the bonus American Idol issue! He’s the one! Uh-huh! I will permit NO OTHER to saw open my skull. [Lies down on floor.] I’ll just wait here until he’s ready to scrub in. [Pause.] Ummm… Honey? Can you get me an Orange Julius while I wait? I’m a little parched. Thanks, Hon.”

Which is finally — mercifully — bookended with:

• Ewwww. Strip club chicken.

I’m really sorry for you. I know you’re working hard. God knows it can’t be an easy job, considering the fact the everyone grows up conditioned to the constant barrage of advertising coming at us from all directions, so I know you have to move heaven and earth just to get through to us, just to get us to focus our eyeballs for thirty seconds and actually pay attention to what you are trying to sell. So yes, I do feel for you.

It’s just…

That ad I just saw? Yes, that one. That’s the one I’m talking about.

It’s just…

Excuse me. Please allow me to be blunt.

The phrase “genital herpes”?

I’m sorry. You lost me RIGHT THERE.

Each word on their own? Not so bad. “Genital”? Who doesn’t love to talk about something genital? Hell! No one! EVERYONE wants to talk about something genital. And “herpes”… admittedly, a harder sell. But it’s a pretty short word, a mere two syllables… you can elide right over it. [cough]“Herpes”[cough]. It’s sort of… cute.

But “GENITAL HERPES”?

Nope. Sorry. Bam. Dead in the water.

I DO NOT CARE THAT YOU ARE SELLING GENITAL HERPES MEDICATION. IT’S STILL NOT GONNA WORK.

It’s the principle of the thing here.

I think you gotta get together, all you advertiser folks, just figure out amongst yourselves what new phrase you are going to use in place of “genital herpes” — some phrase that isn’t used for something else — and then just let the rest of us know. Something like “Danish Camel”… or “Retrograde Maple”… or… I don’t know… “Des Moines, Iowa”. Anything.

And then you retire “genital herpes”. As an advertising phrase. Forever.

BECAUSE YOU DON’T TRY AND SELL THINGS USING GENITAL HERPES AS YOUR HOOK.

NOT EVEN GENITAL HERPES.

IT JUST WON’T WORK.

• 20 minutos.es (via gizmodo)

Do you ever get the feeeling that advertisers just walk around and say, “Let’s put ads onnnnnnnn… THAT!”?