We’re not sure exactly WHERE this TV commercial came from, but it doesn’t matter – it’s really funny. Obviously the product being advertised is the most lifelike HDTV imaginable…..



  1. Princess Johnson: My 9/11 Memories

    I was modeling ski-wear on the rooftop garden of my chicly decorated Tribeca
    I was chilling with my coolies when “T” Tania came to relay
    that the terror hit the hot town:
    helter-skelter comin down…
    Me and my boys was just tossing back that cognac
    and my girl “T” Tania Tayback was rolling cigars and text-messaging Iman
    when the first plane hit the side of the building.
    …Not our building, thank patti labelle!
    The sky went white –
    whiter than the fragile tips of my brand new platinum highlights –
    – whiter than my celebrated, high-yellow fesses
    before I divorced that shady, stinky guido, white-panty-fetish husband of
    and I could finally tan by myself in the nude on my own freakin island!
    Then there was a boom boom boom skattack! Boom!
    and then a nasty smell –
    soft plumes of silver smoke, deadly silence
    and then the screaming.
    Was King Kong destroying lower Manhattan?
    Had the Star-Chamber Reptilians ushered in nuclear mayhem at last?
    …I said a silent prayer.
    Maybe it was only that Jennifer Lopez had farted,
    and some people had passed out.
    We didn’t know!
    I mean, the view from my building is stellar, but it’s not that stellar.
    I had been pumping one of my personal favorite jams from my latest
    cd on my fresh Hello Kitty box,
    but my unique vocals were drowned outfor a hot second
    by Miss “T” Tania Tayback, rolling around the floor and screaming bloody murder.
    “Fistina Faucett says they’ve blown up the White House!
    “George Bush is dead! — ”
    I was confused.
    “Fistina Faucett had a bomb?”
    “It’s a terrorist attack!”
    I couldn’t take it all in.
    One minute I was featuring my new Christmas jumpsuits
    and trying on La Perla brassieres
    and the next minute my whole beautiful world was turned upside down.
    I mean – when it rains it really does pour!
    I had finally dieted back down to a freakin size 8
    and I had made plans to leave for Aspen that night.
    Talk about bad timing!
    I mean, we had just ordered cheesecake factory and frankly,
    that afternoon I was feeling sexier than ever before,
    and so confident about my body that, god damn it,
    Miss PeePee really wasn’t featuring another freakin disaster that week…
    I must have blacked out.
    The next thing I knew I was lying nude on an exquisite Hermes divan
    in a plane –
    being flown to Connecticut for psychiatric observation.
    Apparently, after the second building exploded,
    I had underwent a complete mental and physical breakdown, right there on my roof.
    I’m told I ripped out my hair extensions
    and I wrote, “J-Lo sucks” all over my stomach and the back of my thighs
    with self-tanner .
    (I’ll get you, Britney Spears!)
    Oh my god, I smashed Baccarat glasses all over the floor
    downstairs in my country kitchen and – worst of all –
    I destroyed forever my prized collection
    of Princess Diana commemorative plates and tea cups…
    Oh, it was awfuI – I had to throw my pager out the window!
    I woke up nude on Puffy’s jet.
    …Oh, no. Don’t feel sorry for me.
    Girls, I woke up in his arms!
    The last thing I remember, before I blacked out,
    was “T” Tania Tayback, up in my grill and all loud in my ear:
    “Bitch, for the last time — This is not about you!”

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