Sell Me Your Product, Then Promptly Shut the Fuck Up

Long gone are the days of simple product and service advertisements that piqued your interest with words spoken by confident, vocal talent or sung in an unforgettable, goofy jingle. In today's world, you're immediately berated for being a bigot, scolded for your white heritage as your accomplishments in life are castigated and your very existence reduced to that of a minuscule bacterium that contributes to the plague of society when all you wanted was a pair of Adidas.

Before the days of social media, only a minority of people would relinquish their dignity in the most absurd ways to get attention, desperately trying to bring some semblance of purpose to their empty and meaningless lives. Nowadays, corporations and businesses are just as embarrassingly pathetic as they push agendas through cringy marketing campaigns instead of sticking to the traditions of commerce.

On any given day where I interact with a business, I am asked for a moment of my time to appreciate a position or plight that has absolutely nothing to do with our transaction, nor is anything I remotely care about.

Instead of addressing my craving for delicious chocolatey goodness, Hershey's would rather tell me how they value the strength of women while dangling some creepy femboi's balls in my face. Progressive Insurance endorses their commitment to diversity and inclusion as they plow me in the tailpipe harder each year despite my clean driving record. NameCheap needs to cheer their support for Ukraine which plays no role whatsoever in my hopes that GoDaddy eats shit. Hell, I can't even wash down these troubles with a glass of cheap whiskey without J&B telling me my grandpa likes to wear makeup and wander the streets at night looking for homeless guys to blow.

This constant pandering has become exhausting, especially after a long day of fighting with the IRS using TurboTax, a company that wants me to shove a tampon up my ass after I take a piss.

Irony goes unnoticed as these dimwit organizations continue to bite the hands that feed them. The NFL seems to think I'm racist, constantly plastering "End Racism" jargon all over football fields, helmets, and jerseys in the face of my long-standing commitment and support for players that are overwhelmingly not my race. Television shows and commercials can't resist the urge to shun me for hating women, even though I remain dedicated to perfecting the art of wining and dining them so that I can eventually put my penis inside of one.

Even if I manage to absolve myself of these atrocities, become the perfect woke minion, and cleanse my palette of the delicious hate and bigotry I once enjoyed, it will never be enough. Gillette can't forgive me for being a biological man who grows facial hair, Listerine wants me to gargle and swish a big fat load of rainbow, and according to Dove, not even soap can wash away their firm belief that everyone should be frighteningly ugly.

So, dear marketing executive, let's drop the message. You're grossly misinformed of social issues and your solutions are astoundingly retarded. Just stick to showing me the product, tell me why I should buy it, how yours is better than the other guys, then promptly shut the fuck up.