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Something a lot of people don't know is that I'm an infomercial freak. Second only to my love of wrestling is infomercials. I can literally turn on the shopping/infomercial channel and watch it for hours. I actively search for my favorites. At this point I can recite the Original Magic Bullet commercial from memory. I can tell you the difference between the Flavorwave Turbo and the NuWave Oven. I know the exact ratio of OxyClean to water to get any-fucking-thing clean. I hate to say that Orange Glo is greasy and smelly. I can work a Cricut Expression without having ever touched one of the damn things. I can promise you the Ab Coaster is a hell of a lot less fun than it looks. I know nearly everything you can cook with the Ready Set Go. SET IT AND FORGET IT. You get the idea. Quirky-but-useful products get my interest. If pro wrestling doesn't work out, I would adore getting the chance to sell on TV.
Honestly, the two concepts are incredibly similar when you think about it. You have to get something over and the most memorable ways to do it involve a lot of overacting and good promo work.
Why have I bothered to come along and say all this?
...I'm watching the season finale of Pitchmen, with the tribute to Billy Mays, and bawling my eyes out.
Seeing the pallbearers and most of the attendees of his funeral were dressed in khaki plants and blue work shirts...yeah, sobbing. I mean, SOBBING.
I realize he wasn't quite the level of a Michael Jackson or a Farrah Fawcett or someone like that, but damnit, he's the King of Pitch. No more Pitchmen? No more HI BILLY MAYS HERE! God it SUCKS.
I have a right powerful urge to go get me a blue workshirt with my next check and start wearing it to work, just ftr...
Honestly, the two concepts are incredibly similar when you think about it. You have to get something over and the most memorable ways to do it involve a lot of overacting and good promo work.
Why have I bothered to come along and say all this?
...I'm watching the season finale of Pitchmen, with the tribute to Billy Mays, and bawling my eyes out.
Seeing the pallbearers and most of the attendees of his funeral were dressed in khaki plants and blue work shirts...yeah, sobbing. I mean, SOBBING.I realize he wasn't quite the level of a Michael Jackson or a Farrah Fawcett or someone like that, but damnit, he's the King of Pitch. No more Pitchmen? No more HI BILLY MAYS HERE! God it SUCKS.
I have a right powerful urge to go get me a blue workshirt with my next check and start wearing it to work, just ftr...
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