Hey man, I’m a guy, dude. That’s all. We’re all just dudes, man. Except for the chicks but I’m just talking about the bros. Sometimes it’s hard being us guys. That’s why it’s cool that beer companies get us. Most people don’t really understand us guys but the beer companies know what makes us tick.
Almost all of them understand us dudes.
Like Coors Light. I haven’t gotten along with the old lady in quite a while. Got into a drunken fist fight with my best friend not even three days ago. And there is a solid chance I’m not going to be welcomed back to work tomorrow after what I just said to my boss. People just don’t get me. But
Coors Light does. “Hey Patty, what’ll make you happy.”
Gee, I have an idea. Is there any way I could possibly see a commercial with rapper Ice-T partying in a blizzard next to a giant, speeding ice train?
Coors Light: “Done.”
Me: “Thanks.”
And I just wish that for one day I could express my views the way the voiceover guy in the Miller High Life commercial expresses his thoughts. That’s how I feel. That’s how I want to be heard. Like that time he said “Yeah, I’ll have some salad. Potato salad. Egg Salad. Pasta Salad.” It was incredible. I was like, “Dude, I’m a fat slob too. That’s the only salad I’ll eat too.” Crazy. And then later on he goes, “I know how to mend a broken heart. Duct tape.” Classic.
I’ve used that one on the Mrs. ever since I heard it. That’s MY line now. She always responds the same way. “Shut your mouth you loser.” But screw it. I’m sticking with it. The beer and the line. Some people really see eye-to-eye on things, and two of those people happen to be the Miller High Life spokesman and yours truly.
But few have understood the governing principles of men more than Miller Lite. They have just introduced to us a new campaign called Man Law. According to this aforementioned beer, all men must adhere to these man-laws. These laws are handed down to us plebeians by the Men of the Square Table, consisting of only the best male representation we could provide. And what males could possibly warrant being held accountable for such a sizable task? Burt Reynolds for starters.
Boss Hogg himself sits at the head of the table. A crusty, bitter old actor who at one time could be with any woman he wanted and now looks in the mirror and sees a creep with a bad piece. He hates himself and is simply collecting paychecks ’til he dies. Beside Lord Reynolds sits comedian Eddie Griffin. If ever there is legislature to be passed that will govern half of the human race, clearly the pimp from Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo and it’s sequel shall have his say. (Read the prior sentence with a British accent.) The next most well known lad on the council is Ty Murray, a rodeo cowboy who’s most daring feat to date hasn’t been riding a bucking bronco but making out with wife Jewel’s snaggled fangs. And they throw in a bunch of other clowns, real nobodies. Except for Aron Ralston.
You’ve heard of Aron. He was the guy who went rock climbing in the Utah Canyons, got his arm caught behind a half-ton boulder and after a few hours of struggling, decided to cut it off to free himself. He’s sitting there with the rest of them.
All of the Man Laws consist of absurd guy etiquette. Nonsense like, “Man Law: Once a beer touches the cooler of a party host, ownership of said beer is transferred to cooler owner.” That kind of trash.
While I know it is an advertisement, and Man Law was in fact created by Miller Lite’s marketing division to take light-hearted jabs at wacky guy behavior while relentlessly pushing their product, I still can’t help believe that with ol’ Aron on the panel, maybe Man Law 1 ought to be “Don’t go hiking alone.” Let’s take care of the real issues before we start yucking it up about how nutty drunk dudes can get.
Hey, at least he lost his right arm. For the love of God, his left arm is his drinking arm. That would have been horrific.
