"We don't do soy"

The routine in July is to think that there is a lull at work, get hammered by the myriad of deadlines that seem to crop up since everyone needs work done before "vacation", and become a cycling weekend warrior.

The respite, such as it is, is the nightly broadcast of the Toor Day Fraaance on the Man Channel.  I'm not one to complain about the quality of the broadcast, as I recall the anemic offerings of the '80's as John Tesh led us through his musical (GAAAAK!!) interpretations of this exotic event.

I will heartily complain, however, about the ads during this broadcast.  As I am a lemming, I have always been influenced by creative advertising.  By the same token, I am an independently minded lemming who detests insipid advertising, and I tailor my consuming habits based on the bounty or dearth of creativity.  

With this criteria, I will never buy or drink Mike's Hard Lemonade.  

The current offerings from Madison Avenue feature an Effeminate Lisper who is expressing his inner feelings via various interpretations of the product or its packaging.  Always nervously looking over his shoulder, he tentatively tries to spread his wings, always ready to flinch when the Real Working Men (Bullying Bossman and Snickering Yesman) drop in to express the collective size of their manhood by effectively dopeslapping the hapless stooge and saying "We don't do soy".

The irony is definitely there, but misplaced, as they're advertising an alcoholic version of LEMONADE, fercryinoutloud, and trying to look hardcore.  I love lemonade, but nothing is prissier than an overly sweetened cocktail drink.  This coming from an unadulterated fan of Belgian Lambics, candy martinis, shandies, and margaritas.  If this ad were funny, this product may show up on this list.  Fratboy louts picking on snivelling fatboys aren't funny, but they sure can be if the writers didn't take the easy way out with the "edgy" tension.

Hey Mike, next time you want to use Type A alpha dogs running roughshod over spineless wimps to advertise your swilly product, make it worth our while by shilling for something other than an alcoholic version of a Capri Sun juicebox.  Just a thought.

I wonder how Bullying Bossman would have handled the crash in today's stage, in which Gerolsteiner's Sven Kraus, with about 5K to go, hit a traffic sign at the end of the traffic island, broke his bike IN HALF, and bent the sign to boot.   Kraus got up, waited for his team car, got a new bike, and finished the stage.  Give that man a lemonade.