Every Game Needs a Man?

According to Gatorade's latest commercial "Every Game Needs a Hero" just in time for the Superbowl, the only female sport worth advertising is women's tennis. There are four sports represented: football,baseball, basketball, and tennis. Conspicuously missing: The WNBA, OLYMPIC WINNING women's softball, and women's soccer among others!? I could tell that if there was even one woman on their creative team, she was obviously dick-whipped. The 100% testosterone-driven, monosyllabic team of Jon, Doug, Ron, Steve, Rob, Bob, and Red felt it was vitally important to show male-dominated sport images at least 13x compared to the homogeneous image of the SAME woman in a tight skirt 4x!! Not only is it the same woman in every shot, but she is the quintessential sex symbol with long, flowing blond hair, cleavage baring tank top and tennis skirt. Where are Serina and Venis Williams--Are they inconveniently too black and powerful to be seen as sex objects and/or good athletes? After my daughter (with a fractured fibula) and I sat there and counted up the discrepancies in gender and race images, I advised her to change her sport. The only way female athletes will make money professionally in the United States is if they are shaking that T & A, posing for MAXIM half-clothed, or working the streets as a prostitute and they obviously won't be working for Gatorade's ad department!
Why doesn't Gatorade be a little more obvious with their point and just show random images of scantily clad cheerleaders bending over front and back view. Now THAT would sell some sports drink!
BTW---My daughter happens to love Gatorade and drinks it frequently, but I may consider switching to the generic electrolyte beverage---I'll save money and my fucking blood pressure! Gatorade doesn't need little sport girl funding for their brand, they apparently get plenty of income from big sweaty guys in tight pants (don't get me wrong--I like a big sweaty guy in tight pants as much as the next gal and sexual imagery has its place--just not on the playing field).
Gatorade should change their slogan to "Every Gatorade Ad Needs a Woman's Input" or the more appropriate: "Every Gatorade Exec can Kiss my Irish Ass!"

There's No Women in the VIP Room!

No Women
Verse: Ladies and Gentleman of the leisure class of 2007, I have a piece of advice for you. No matter what a hotel tells you, there's no women in the VIP room. None. Oh there's champagne and hookers in the VIP room, but you dont want champagne or hookers, you want women, and theres no women in the VIP room.

(Chorus) No women in the VIP room, No women in the VIP room, No women in the VIP room, No women in the VIP room, No women in the VIP room, No women in the VIP room, Theres absolutely positively no women in the VIP room.

I came to the above conclusion on my last trip to LA (you know the one where the rental car attendant couldn't even SPELL hybrid). I was staying on the VIP floor of a luxury hotel--the floor with the super secret elevator key. I did not see anyone of the female persuasion on that level except for Julia the housekeeper. I waited in the Starbucks line with men in business attire and of course I had the most complicated request---a chai tea latte with soy and a toasted bagel with lowfat cream cheese (you know a high maintenance, pseudo jew has to get their bagel on). I quietly ate my breakfast while those around me watched the ESPN channel and chatted business. After breakfast, I went to the retail shop and tried to look like I wasn't looking at porn while trying to find the business mags under all the men's eye candy. I suppose I could have stayed in the "female area" with mags like "O" and the ever intellectually stimulating "Cosmo" (how many articles CAN you post on how to give a guy a blow job?)! Anyway, I finally/excitedly found the "Robb Report--car edition". I walked up to the counter and set it down. The cashier looked at me and stated "Oh--he likes his cars doesn't he?" I looked around, then looked at my chest and became profoundly puzzled. Did she think that I was purchasing this for a male companion? She looked at the hot guy next to me and queried--"Would you like a bag for this mag sir?". He politely declined and deferred the question to me with the female prefix "ma'am" (any woman over the age of 20 is forever delegated "ma'am"--the most annoying thing in the world). The final insult to injury occurred when I called down to check out via phone that morning. The man on the other line answered "You are ready to check out MR. EAGLE?" Holy batshit batman! Of course he apologized when I answered in a voice with octaves so high I was either pre-pubescent or a woman.

Victor/Victoria

TGIF!!!!Holy shit! I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted that everyone thinks I'm a male mascarading as a chick! Am I that poor or that good? I can't tell!
It is great to be a woman in the fucking U S of A though! HEll YEA! I can drive my car as fucking fast as I want, buy lunch and dinner, play the ho or play a man and all the men!
I don't really "suit up" when I impersonate though. Do you guys wear heels while you fondle your packages and pretend to be Ladies and girls?
Last time I checked I really have breasts! Losers!

I knew I should've used some big ol' tits and/or a rock hard ass as my avitar. Then you lusty,randy hounds would be all over that shit!