Recently I’ve noticed an onslaught of radio commercials for products that control breast sweat. The commercial I am most fond of is for a product called “Fresh Breasts.” Evidently breast sweat has reached epidemic proportions and requires a major radio campaign to get the cure to the sweaty masses. As a big-breasted woman myself, I understand how this could be an issue. It tends to happen to me when I use the girls as paperweights or to prop a drink between them. And apparently it’s not just breasts that are having a sweaty problem. There is a similar product called “Fresh Balls.” (When I heard of this I immediately had visions of air fresheners shaped like balls, swinging from rear view mirrors everywhere.) Hearing about boob sweat is bad enough, but I REALLY don’t want to listen to ads about perspiring man parts. Knowing men the way I do, the application of the product alone will inevitably result in everything else becoming sweaty. I’m really not convinced these products will work anyway. Call me a pessimist, but I’m pretty sure putting some sort of lotion-y, powder-y product in those areas is just going to produce gravy. No one wants to be around people who can make their own gravy. So I beg of you, the makers of "Fresh Balls" and "Fresh Breasts," please stop with the radio commercials. It's bad enough that everyone in this tropical hell in which I live is constantly glistening from sweat. I really don't need visions of them cooking Thanksgiving dinner in their fruit of the looms. Some things need to remain a sweaty little secret, so let's just pass out paper towels and call it good.
Showing posts with label gravy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gravy. Show all posts
Friday, September 10, 2010
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