The Showtime Rotisserie. OrangeGlow. Free psychic or tarot readings (for entertainment purposes only) and OxiClean. Even if some of them are good products (which I am convinced they are not), the commercials for them do nothing short of entrhall me with rage. What we all know, is that these shitty commercials are all done by the same damn company. I was reluctant to give you the name of the company, for fear that you mihgt actually look them up and help give business to this plague upon the planet. But I trust you. The company is called "As Seen on TV" and it has spawned some of the worst stuff that....well, some of the worst stuff in the history of stuff.

First, there's the Ronco Fag. His birth name was Ron Popeil, but at some point in his "career" of his little company "Ronco" the government made him change his name to "That Ronco Fag." I think it was in the 80's when he "discovered" how to scranble an egg while it was still inside its shell, which was a total revolution for the market that appealed to people that got their dicks stuck in toasters, and decided that they should make eggs instead of toast. He's also got this woman with him. Apparently, this woman is the epitome of "dumb blonde" because she is amazed by ANYTHING. This woman has spent her entire life with her head up her ass, which is also responsible for her hair style. This asshole sticks a fork in a turkey (It's a special "Ronco" fork because he put some tape on the handle.) and this woman thinks she's just seen the rise and fall of western civilization. She wets herself when he uses a microwave and the tray turns. I hate them both. Ronco Fag and his lobotomized technology whore.

Next up, Billy Mays. He promotes "OxiClean" and "OrangeGlow" which are cleaners that apparently are powerful enough to clean the paint off your car, but are only made from oranges and air. Impressive. Billy Mays also appears to be on speed. I've never seen an asshole so damn enthusiastic about cleaning shit off of his crappy curtains. It's even safe on his lace panties! This guy likes to enhance his laundry detergent with OxiClean. He calls himself "Billy Mays - The Stain Specialist." He better be a specialist when it comes to stains. The guy should have enough experience cleaning stains off his jeans after yanking his crank to Ronco Fag's techno-retard kitchen whore.

Then we come to the Queen Fuckhead herself. The ganja smoking, marketable omniscience wielding, fake Jamaican accenting bitch. Yeah, you know her. Miss Cleo. Call me now! I'll tell you when I'll call Miss Cleo. When I figure out how to put 50,000 volts selectively through the phone line and and toast all her paranormal neurons. Along with all the other organic matter above her neck. All the people that call her little shithouse of a show get the same thing. "Remember when the door to your trailer-house was locked? Yeah, and his rusted old pickup truck wasn't there? He was cheatin' on ya, dear. He hid the pictures in that hole in the wall." These are things that everybody that calls in has in common! It is the nature of the white trash people to cheat, and have rusty pickup trucks and not fix or maintain the holes in their trailer-homes! The only question I have is why an ugly Jamaican woman is the first person to cash in on this fact. I don't think Miss Cleo is part of the "As Seen on TV" community of ass pirates.

There's also those "Spirit of the 70's" and "Non Stop Hip Hop" and whatnot CD collections. And "Goin' South." None of them sound any good. They called the 70's the era of free love. Or one decade or another, something like that. Anyway, this decade is the decade of free music, so I don't think an 800 number is going to do to well selling it when we can get it for free. I don't think I could ever get something from an 800 number, they're just horrible. That's all I got, I'm done.