I just saw that new Heineken commercial with the walk-in closets, and I dunno... maybe I don't know how to have a good time, call me crazy (or not crazy enough, as the case may be), disagree with me if you will, but I don't think I want to be friends with those people.
If my rich friend took me on a six-hour tour of her new mansion and the final leg involved a glimpse inside her 10-billion-square-foot walk-in closet, complete with a diamond-necklaces-on-pedestals centerpiece...
Oh my God, it's on right now! Bah.
...anyway, while all of my other harpy friends were screaming, I would ask my hostess why she chose to turn the 11th bedroom into a shrine to silk halter tops instead of making it something useful, like a room for watching episodes of Rescue 911, or a room for eating donuts in the dark, or a room filled with Easter grass (much like the room I actually dreamt about when I was four). And I would hope that whoever I'm married to in this commercial (wink wink, nudge nudge Bill Pullman/Paxton) would be doing the same thing simultaneously. As the ex-frat brothers he secretly hates (he joined because his dad made him, and he hates his dad too!) are bumping chests and punching walls over the sight of a giant room filled with fluorescent lights, dry ice and shelves of warm beer, he would be asking where the bathroom is and filling a jewel-encrusted suitcase (stolen from my friend's walk-in closet) with bottles of Heineken.
And then we'd run home to our dark basement studio and wonder aloud, laughing, why we were ever friends with them in the first place.
4 comments:
Oh man, I have seen that commercial soo many times. I often think, "wow it would be awesome to have a large closet, but maybe that is a little excessive... but a beer closet is kind of great." but who the hell has a beer closet. Then you start to realize the people that would actually have such things are absolutely insane and fucking loaded and really.... I probably would only be fake friends with them anyway. Let's face it, they would talk about totally pretentious things that I don't care about it is just nice to occasionally have things bought for you. I personally could only allow that to happen like once and then would just feel too horrible because I am not really their friend. So, maybe you, Matt, Jason and I could all go back to the same dark basement and steal all the stolen beer together... because let's face it, Jason would be more than enthusiastic about stealing and drinking some rich bastard's beer :)
and by steal I meant drink... I have had several glasses of wine :)
Wow. Is that how you all feel about me? I'm sorry I'm really really rich and have closets with necklaces and beer and tennis racquets and old window units and socks and stuff in them. I'm sorry there is a commercial about my life and you two hate it. I'm sorry for trying to be a good friend and taking six hours to show you every crevice and nook of my two-room studio apartment behind the Blue Man Group Theater. I'm just sorry, but I would really like my jewel encrusted suitcase back, please.
I don't know how I ended up here but f'ing love TV on the radio too. Bye
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