Sixty-something woman shares ruminations as she plys the latter third of her life with the caveat that age entitles her to be absolutely outrageous whenever possible.
"We Three"
Monday, September 26, 2005
I am not amused.
OK, anyone else really disgusted with the Geico Insurance commercials? You know, the ones that show the attorney telling his client, who is about to be executed, that he has good news, he has just saved a bundle on his auto insurance? How obnoxious is that, anyway. In psych class, we saw this nifty film (you don't call them movies, they are educational films; I learned this in grade school) about advertising, and the subtle use of sexual innuendo that objectified women. That is preferrable to this self-serving tripe, like who cares about anyone else as long as I am served. Give me the Harley-Davidson ad, where a series of sweet men get the brush-off at the end of their dates, then we pan to a Harley festooned with a red brassiere, parked in front of a sweet little house from which emanates the cries of passion. There's good old exploitation in action. OK, I am probably watching too much television. What can I say, I have no life.
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