Recently, while standing in line at a bodega (read: 24/7 deli) I noticed, at the register, a display of healthfood bars. Luna, Powerbar, what have you. However, there was one particular healthfood bar, the name which I now disremember, that made a truly fantastical claim:
75% organic.
Hm. Interesting. The best part is that the lady in front of me, dyed blonde, thin, large, unruly dog tied up outside, bought several of them. Good for her, I thought. For, without her, all my friends whose parents are in advertising would surely starve. Let us examine.
75% organic means that, at least, 25% of the healthfood bar is inorganic. Meaning, that, in no way possible, is the offending 25% of the healthfood bar made of any combination or composition of hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, and whatever the fuck that other organic element is. So, let's figure out what the fuck the other 25% of that bar may have been made out of. Lead? Bismuth? Human misery? That last one may, in fact, be organic. In any event, those bars are delicious.
Similarly, I once had a conditioner that advertised, very proudly, in large, black outlined, bold, italic letters, "35% more style by volume."
Well, folks, I'll let you take that one apart. Actually, I won't. Are you fucking kidding me? How the fuck can you measure style? I mean, I know if you were to quantitate my own style, you would break the styleo-meter, and I would register somewhere between "a cross between alexander hamilton and sting" and "brad pitt if he were made of solid gold."
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1 comment:
Where do you shop!? My shampoo only registers 7/8 of an Alexander Hamilton (or, 1/25 of a Louis XIV if you prefer metric).
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