24 May 2008

I don't want to smell like Mariah Carey

I don't care how emancipated she is, I don't want to smell like Mimi. Sound like her, sure! Look like her, couldn't hurt. But Macy's thinks I should want to smell like Mimi. Does she smell like puppies and bendy straws?

They also think I should want to buy ties because they've got Donald Trump's name on the label. Donald "I invented obnoxious" Trump, fergawdssake. And I should desire to slip my feet into shoes from Jessica "can you believe I'm the smart one in the family?" Simpson.

Macy's ad campaign is: "Bringing the stars together ...that's the magic of Macy's." To which I say: Huh?

Yes, the stars appear in the commercials and get profits when items from their lines sell. I guess that's pretty magical... for them. Knowing that as they lounge by their pools, some shlub in Schenectady is comparing himself to Usher, buying his cologne and making Usher a little richer. Yeah, Usher's hurting.

But they're not bringing the stars to me. It's not like the stars are in the store signing autographs or having pictures taken much less doing anything actually useful.

It's sure not like they're getting my parking stub validated (oh, thanks, Pentagon City for this extra insult) or telling the woman in line in front of me to get off her damn cell phone and finish the transaction. They're not keeping track of the fact that I parked on the blue level in the fourth row by the urine-festooned stairwell in the only spot available which means I will probably get mightily dinged by the behemoth vehicle parked considerably on the diagonal next to me. It's not like that at all!

Where's my bendy straw?? Huh?! WHERE'S MY BENDY STRAW?!?

Magic? Pfffft.

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