so. im sitting here in my room, watching my big extra super fantastic big ol screen tv when it suddenly explodes, displaying 40 inches of ridiculousness in the form of the commercial i’m about to show you. before we get to the viewing, let me tell you a bit about the company.
Mo Money Taxes is apparently a tax preparation service. they seem to have found some level of success, since, according to the website, they have multiple offices pretty much all over the American south, and also some midwestern states.
that being said, let me tell you that this particular commercial features a large white man with green hair yelling phrases such as: “I’M TOE UP FROM THE FLO UP!”, “BLAME IT ON THE AH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AHKKAHOL!”, “WHERE DEY DO DAT AT?!'” and “CALM THE HELL CALM DOWN!” it also features an angry man standing and yelling “IT’S FINNA GET REAL UGLY UP IN HERE!'” ready?
im thinking it must be. cause i mean the way i see it, and ladies, maybe you’ll feel me here, but you know that dude that steps to you mad inappropriately as you’re on your way to work or the bus or wherever you may be going? ‘damn shawty that ass is fat! yo man can’t treat that right, let me hold that real quick!’ now for us classy broads with standards and offendable sensibilities, we are appalled. we are disgusted that this motherfucker just stepped to us that way, that he thinks this is a good idea. we cannot believe that this works on anyone, ever.
but it does! it has to. if it didnt work, he’d switch it up. somewhere, somebody out there is giggling and taking out her eyeliner to write her number on his palm or some Zane-esque shit like that.
i feel like this is sort of the same thing. im sittin on my couch and im just bombarded with black people doin spoken word tryna sell me some shit and i just get so angry. like yo! why is this the way you feel like you need to communicate with me, mcdonald’s? is Rhyme the secret native language of African America? subway, what is your excuse? are you tryin to make up for the lack of hot sauce and collard greens in ur new tuscan chicken melt by wrapping it in really bad poetry? i will grant you this though.. the last dude? the one that goes ‘whaaaaaat?‘ he’s type funny. i will approve of him. but nothing else!
but really though, it has to be working. its been goin on for far too long. i think maybe it’s the safe bet on how to reach out to black people. poetry is corny, pretentious and masturbatory classy. big natural hair is like a two-for-one affirmative action special the international symbol for self-love and acceptance, superficially/stereotypically. SOMEbody is sittin at home when this shit comes on, headwrapped in a cloud of nag champa, makin plans to get a mccafe to give as an offering to please the god Shango. i just know it. who is it? who amongst you is it?? STAND AND BE RIDICULED!
i know these aint new but i been meanin to publicly shake my head at them for awhile.
hate that damn guy. not dwele, the dude in the beginning. ask me, this is way cooler.