Every year, the holidays bring with them a host of painfully overinflated exclamations of the role that minor food items play in holiday celebrations. We’ve collected a few of the many as a reminder from Adiocracy of the value of understanding your true role in the overall scheme of things. In the case of these food products, a simple reminder to get real. You are not the valiant Christmas tree or the impressive turkey, the 40 lb ham or Wii wrapped beneath the tree. You’re just a cocktail weenie, a cracker, a box of stuffing, a can of soup. Accept it. The swagger looks a bit silly on you.
There are many reasons why people to stay too long at a party. Cocktail weenies are not only not one of them, they might be the very reason we’d rethink even staying for dinner.
It’s the stuffing! Darn, you put so much effort into the decorations, the Mini-Me sized turkey, but all they remembered was the stuffing! If that’s the real reason they wanna be at your house, we think it’s okay to seriously downsize the amount of money you blow on their presents next year.
Crackers so magical they made a tale about them! Not just big crackers, but magical ones! Frankly, we’ve never asked a lot from our crackers. Just that they hold it together during the spread, bear whatever modest load we designate and don’t overdo it on the transfats. Copy urges readers to go to Nabisco’s website during the holiday season to watch a magical cracker movie and play magical cracker games, and maybe this is where all the cracker magic really comes together. But honestly, who the hell has time or even the slightest interest to bother, what with the frantic hours wasted running around trying to find some reasonably unlame gift for your boss/secretary/babysitter/new girlfriend, etc. Playing a Nabisco cracker game? Not in the cards. Besides, we don’t want our crackers to be magical. We just want them to keep that dip from landing in our lap or on our new holiday tie.
We continue the holiday magic theme with Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom Soup. For sure, lots of elements go into creating Holiday Magic, but we’ve never, ever thought of a green bean casserole (and we’ve shoveled our share of the stuff down our gullets over the years) as one of the magical components. So be honest, Campbell’s. It looks better on you. A green bean casserole is not magic, it’s table filler, often times whipped up a few hours before dinner because someone didn’t come through with the parmesan encrusted asparagus. It’s workmanly and nothing to be ashamed of. But it’s certainly not something you want to produce with the flourish of a Vegas magician. Best to quietly slip it onto the table and hope no one makes a sly comment.
This final ad for the America’s Dairy Farmers avoids the above ego overinflation. But the lovely site of sweaty cheese hanging off the tree reminded us of an Xmas party a few years back when we were assigned the hors d’oeuvres. We were late and scored a nice pre-wrapped tray of sushi on the way but in the cab remembered we’d also been asked to contribute an ornament for the tree. So we hooked each piece of sushi with a paper clip, hung them on the tree and called them hor d’oeurvaments. We’re sure that, much like the left over sushi, the stank off the cheese on this tree was particularly appreciated while hungover the next morning.
That’s what we think. How about you? Share your comments below.
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