If you’re watching a commercial with terrible music, awful acting and a lot of flashing prices, I probably own or will soon own whatever is being advertised. The rare exception is the Quizno’s singing kittens bit; and if given the chance, I’d like to kill those cats.
I’m addicted to As Seen on TV products. And I’m not ashamed to admit it.
The Bump-It was an integral part of my Halloween costume this year (Flo from the Progressive spots). It gave my hair unrealistic lift and was harder to deconstruct than Pauly D’s blowout.
I received a Big Top Cupcake as a college graduation present and became subsequently obsessed with finding flavors to mix. I couldn’t wait to see how big top that cupcake could get.
I’m swathed in my Snuggie Deluxe (it has pockets) as I type this tonight. Thank God for a blanket with sleeves … what did I ever do without it?
I even remember the first As Seen on TV purchase in my home as a child: the RonCo Food Dehydrator. We made banana chips, granola and beef jerky — the latter of which, I will never eat again thanks to a disgusting story from Tucker Max.
When I was in college, I worked at a retail store in a mall. We got word that an As Seen on TV store was going in near us, and I freaked. How else would I have instant access to Aqua Globes, The Perfect Brownie and a ShamWow? I suppose I could always become a prostitute and prepare for a beating.
What is it about these products that draws me in? Is it the spokesman’s stern yelling? Is it the fancy graphics that anyone with a basic knowledge of Microsoft Powerpoint could duplicate? Is it the fact that no matter what, they always throw extra shit in for free?
The fact is, it doesn’t matter what the motivation behind these purchases may be. Slap that beautiful ASoT sticker on it, and I’m sold. Except you, Smart Mop. I refuse to drink spilled soda off the floor … even if the economy sucks.