Wordsmoker

Hey Slate.com: while your witty ramblings about anything and everything posted with a highbrow eau de stench compelled me to read your burgundy and white interwebs pages, you have crossed the line. I decided not to go to law school specializing in intellectual property, I SHOULD have still gone to law school…so I would know the true definition of copying and be able to do more about it than bitch.

I was furious NBC copied ChillBear’s “Public Service Announcement: Dating Dangers,” and vowed to wage war against the NBC/GE/Sheinhardt Wig Company,…I now have to add Slate to my Shit List.

A few weeks ago (March 18 to be exact), I posted a story on the ‘ol Wordsmoker tubes called “When Cats Take Acid,” a showcase of Friskies’ latest commercial, chock full of creepy CGI turkeys and kung-fu mutant chickens. It yielded eight comments, mostly about felines feasting upon acid and those possible side effects/woooooah, dude.

But now the writers at Slate must have caught wind to the awesomeness of making fun of this advertisement, with the story here (with a post date of march 29):

Sure, Mr. Seth Stevenson manages to contact the Marketing Director for Friskies, Susan Schlueter, but all I got were full voicemail boxes and cranky assistants. Mr. Stevenson must have an “in” at Friskies, but not enough where he can get a direct quote from her. He manages to get a half quote from Ms. Schlueter:

“”Feeding wet,” as Schlueter calls it, can for some owners be a highly ritualized and intimate pet interaction.”

It might be a good thing I never got a hold of Ms. Schlueter, for obtaining a half quote like that would be dirty journalism GOLD. Feeding wet, eh? wink wink…

And that’s when I would be physically thrown out of Friskies Headquarters without my free samples for Roxie (my Ragdoll cat who wrestles with our two Pomeranians. She’s a tough bitch). I would defend myself from the Kitty Goons with my stilettos and hiss until they sprayed Warm Vanilla Sugar Body Spray until I couldn’t take the smell anymore and I would slump away.

And then, as if it weren’t enough, he takes a jab at the “crazy cat lady.”

I wrote:

“Aimed at the Crazy Cat Lady who likes a few hits of acid before sitting down to watch Judge Judy with her 13 feline friends, to the non-stoned, this commercial makes me want to vomit rainbows. I don’t know what the cats at Friskies are smoking, but I think I need it to get through the workweek.”

He wrote:

“You might assume that these extreme cat enthusiasts all fit into the “crazy cat lady” mold. Why all these people enjoy the thought of their pets dropping acid, I can’t quite say. But I wish them well. May all their feedings be wet, and may all their cats trip out in a heavy, heavy way, man.”

And to top it off, Mr. Stevenson doesn’t even OWN a cat. He then proceeds to “grade” the commercial a “B,” when we all know it warrants a C- at best.

I think Slate/NBC/Sheinhardt Wig Company is onto us. Watch yourselves, Wordsmokers.

You could be next.