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xmag.com : November 2002: What's Your Fucking Problem?

Not too long ago I was offered a gig modeling for a beer ad. When my agent friend Amy called with the news, I saw dollar signs big as kegs. I prayed it wasn't one of those dumbass billboards where there are several inebriated women obviously horny for the guy with the bottle.

The money would be darn good...

"It's TOTALLY UP YOUR ALLEY," she chimed on the phone. The slogan is, 'Bad Girls Like Good Beer.' Doesn't that sound cool?"

Mmmkay. What's the scene?

"And they LOVED your look, your tattoos...is your hair still purple?"

Amy, what's the ad gonna look like?

She sailed into her hard-sell mode where she'll sell you a hot lump of shit in a coffee can as if it were just the most perfect-est thing EVER!!!

"Well, the scene is a big party, at a school, right, and you're dressed all hot, looking around a dorm room with another hot chick...you both have a beer in your hand..."


"Aaaaand," she sang on, in the foreground is a good-looking college guy smirking into the camera, and HE has a beer, too...Hello? Hellooo?"


She pretended not to hear me. "The guy who'll be in the ad is the producer; he's super hooked-up."

No. Sorry. No fucking way.

After a bit of back-and-forth, she knew it was a no-go. I thanked her for the offer and said goodbye. I was offended she even considered snapping pictures of me in such a pedestrian date-rape promo ad. Forget the money, I'm way too uppity to look that common in a national ad campaign. If I'm gonna look like a dumb slut, it'll be a private affair.

Don't get me wrong. I love beer. I'm not a big drinker, but as simple pleasures go, super cold, yummy beer chasing down some greasy takeout just plain rules. I'm a Nike-wearin', carnivorous, white het'ro-WASP, and I used to smoke the hell out of Camels when fuzzy-pitted feminists everywhere were screaming to boycott them because Joe Camel was really a cartoon cock spreading a cartoon pussy. I like my smokes, burgers, and beer because they taste good. Period.

Regardless of taste and politics, however, those beer ads annoy the piss out of me. A man holding one bottle, usually in a cocklike fashion, points at a couple of super hot girls (or twin sisters who are naturally horny for each other). The girls always outnumber the guy, and the images suggest that underwear model types who spy you drinking the same crappy swill that they're drinking will get all wet and bi-curious, wriggle out of their tank tops and demand sex as if the night was a Girls Gone Wild episode about to happen. Right.

I was pissed that I lost money over my stupid code of ethics. Then, as I stewed about it all, I realized I should write my own damn ad so that the slogan fits. Here are just a few that I've come up with:


#1. the scene: The Bush Twins, after having stomped the piss out of the Olsen twins in Nude Tapioca Wrestling, pour beer all over each other and make out.

#2. Pro wrestler Chyna winks at the camera clinking a beer bottle in a cheeky salud! to a big jar that has her former penis floating in formaldehyde.

#3. Roseanne Barr, dressed as Batman, positions her hulking body over the face of a frat boy who's dressed up as Robin. Her head is thrown back in a haughty laugh. She's pouring a beer into her open yob. The boy's head is wedged between the pork of her thighs, and he's crying.

Those are just a handful; I got a million of 'em, most of which end with the man crying. I've sent 'em in to the beer companies to try and win them over to my way of thinking. So far I've had no reply, but I'm sure someone in their camp's got to have a lick of sense. I can wait.





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