The ad: This Midol ace that puts the MEN back in menstruation!
The verdict: Perversions galore, people. A lot of unrunnable bestiality, lesbian witchcraft and fun 'n' sun castrations. Please remember, this is a family publication. We can't even say the g-word, OK?
Brad probably just wanted a little head on the beach, and it looks like he got it.
Dammit, Dave, what'd we just say!? What if the President of the United States were reading this!?
Tina says to Brad: "Tylenol? As if! You are sooo '80s!" Even the dog knows it's all about Relationship Marketing. Midol is to women as Cruex is to men.
So true, Cindy. We once asked our cruel ex to serve us up our favorite jock itch remedy and she brought back a jar of honey and a beehive.
The sarcastic dog is actually Spuds MacKenzie, who's trying to make a comeback as the Midol spokescanine.
Sorry, Scott, but Spuds is in the Benji Ford Clinic getting dried out again. He passed out at the Midol audition.
Brad is interested only in making Tina's persistent headache disappear so he can "get some." Tina and her girlfriends long ago devised this ingenious test to weed out the undesirables. If a man serves up Midol, he "gets some."
In fact, there was a famous Midol commercial about this many years ago. "Who wants 'some'?" "I do, I do!"
This ad is brought to you by the same comedic geniuses who brought you Caroline in the City. It's not enough that "feminine" commercials have taken over television; now we've all got to deal with them in print, too. It won't be long before there's a cheesy photo of the daughter looking at the mother and asking, "Mom, what do you do when you don't feel, um, fresh?" God help us.
Geoff, God is a woman, and when She doesn't feel fresh She takes it out on guys like you. So keep a truckload of Summer's Eve with you at all times, dude.
Sadly, Brad thinks that being entombed in hot sand might constitute a reasonable excuse for not having to pleasure Tina during her "Midol days."
So is that when Task Force NYC takes over, Mr. Hotmail?
The "something extra" in Midol is a big fat helping of PCP. Her parole officer, Brad, got his ass kicked for trying to get Tina to give up the junk. The entire ad is just another one of Tina's trips; she's actually curled up in a crackhouse on Canal Street, soiling herself.
Wasn't this an episode of Caroline in the City? Come on, Roman, you're pulling a Mike Barnicle here.
I have been playing volleyball for over 13 years and I just had to respond. Tina and Spot have been losing all day to Posh and Baby. Wrong day to make a bad call, ref!
After 13 years in the game, Mardell, you think that Posh and Baby could beat a mutt and a bloated girl with cramps? Sporty and Scary, OK. Posh and Baby? Get real. They couldn't beat Dr. Ruth and Gary Coleman.
I have a hard time believing Tina yelled, "Rotate! Four serving six! I feel like my uterus is falling out!"
Of course you have a hard time believing that, Alec. You don't rotate in beach volleyball. Ask Mardell.
Yeah, I'll bet it was something he said. When Tina -- most politely, I'm sure -- asked Brad to run up to the store for her, he probably served up something like, "Geez, you're such a whiner when you're on the rag," or maybe, "Does bloating explain why your ass hangs out of your swimsuit?" I hope the sand crabs pluck every inch of flesh from the little prick's body.
Lori, you sound upset. What you need is a nice, sensitive man. We'll fix you up, don't worry.
Brad is a hump, the dog should be fed into a wood chipper, Tina's a raving bitch and her friends are conspiratorial nits. Give me some of that Midol -- this ad is making my head throb!
Mike, we'd like to introduce you to Lori. Lori, Mike. Why don't you two go have a nice time in the sand, it's a beautiful day!
This ad couldn't have been written by women. If it was, the dog would be a cat, the volleyball game would be bitching on the couch in front of Oprah and Brad would be a wall hanging. This is the product of a self-hating, "sensitive" male's attempt at coming to terms with the feminine condition.
Alan B. Rosenfeld
Good rant, Al. You better get back on the wall now, your wife's on her way home.
Three athletic Womyn are out enjoying each other's company. Tina is celebrating the monthly miracle of Goddesshood. Enter oafish Brad, who attempts to ingratiate himself by stating he "feels her pain" . . .
You know, Clinton may be a horny moron, but at least he's smart enough to have a Secret Service agent driving an 18-wheeler filled with Summer's Eve wherever he goes.
Who gives a shit about Tina? What I want to know is, why is there a Honda severed head keychain in the sand?!
Tal, you clever rogue! Lifting a page from Barnicle's book and recycling last month's winning entry! Brilliant! We confess we did not give your prize to a homeless man, but you're still not going to Gabby's Obedience Camp. WE are. You don't like it, take it up with Lori.This Month's Contest
Win a lifetime reserved "vip" stall at the port authority rest room of your choice!
An elephant on a feather. "Could anyone balance like this for 70 years?" Charmin is "70 years Soft and still going Strong." Really. A few questions: Does PETA know about this? Where's Mr. Whipple? Is the ideal toilet paper a feather-lined piece of elephant hide? We're so confused! Bowl us over at