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The week’s only half over and already, I’ve encountered three things that made my wee brain feel like I’d sprained it.

Thing the first. I was watching a commercial the other day and it’s enough of rare occasion that it warrants mentioning, as I usually tape – yes, I still use a VCR – programs to watch later so I can fast-forward through commercials as they drive me batty and the odd time when I do watch something live, I usually go do something else in commercials – where was I? Oh yes. It was a commercial about food of some sort and one of the selling points was that it was “fun to eat!” Why must everything always be fun in commercials? Whether it’s cleaning, eating or wiping your arse, everything is funfunfun! and really, it’s exhausting. Other than that weird candy that bubbles and pops in your mouth, most food really isn’t necessarily fun to eat. It may be tasty, yummy, satisfying or delicious (etc.), but fun? Huh?

Thing the second. Earlier this week, I met Andrew for lunch and we went to McDonald’s where I watched him eat (because have you seen Super Size Me?). And then I noticed this on the outside of the cup containing his Coke: “BUBBLY FUN! Any second now, your mouth will come alive with a tingling sensation of ice cold refreshment. Enjoy!” Aside from the inane concept of a carbonated drink being “BUBBLY FUN!” (see Thing the First), now said carbonated drink needs advance billing? I need to be alerted to the sensation of drinking? My “mouth will come alive”? Is this a pop trailer? Huh??

Thing the third. For several years, I have been known to express a certain level of confusion about the trend of young males wearing their pants if not around ankles, then in such a way that the crotch of the pants is somewhere near the knee. That is, when you can see the pants, because this is usually accompanied by a t-shirt that could double as a dress (and yes, I’m aware that combined with last week’s post about language, I’m officially sounding like an old fogey now). I just don’t get it. I also don’t get the weird duck walk it seems to create, although after a while, I realized that if only your lower legs are free to move (due to the crotch area limiting movement above the knee), it makes you walk funny. And then there’s that weird hitch added to the whole process that confused me completely, until I read in a mystery novel how it was supposed to imitate a limp from a gunshot wound. How very gangsta. Anyway! The other day, my seated view afforded me a visual treat (that’s sarcasm) when a young guy, probably in his early 20s, was next to me at the grocery store. I glanced over and due to him not wearing a T-shirt that could double as a dress – although I wish he had – I could view his pants securely tightened with a belt hanging on his upper thighs, just below his – a-hem – package. Which was completed visible, snugly contained within blue boxer briefs. And that just takes the cake, because normally, even if the pants hanging down low, I would like to believe that they are at least doing the job of pants and covering the twit’s nether regions, but this? This? It gave me an intense desire to bleach my brain so I can rid myself of the image seared into my mind. And yes: Huh???