The New Season of I Stole Your Lunch Begins with a Bang!

Hey hey hey! I Stole Your Lunch is stuck in an endless loop of reruns no longer! Untie that noose, put away the sleeping pills, and pull the ten gauge out of your ass...the world is a happy place once more!

Kind of.

I've been in good old West Brookfield for the past week and a half, so I've spent A LOT of time staring at the television. And when I say A LOT, I mean A LOT. I've worked a permanent butt groove into the couch, and I can't quite seem to seperate the remote control from my hand. Makes it a bit difficult to type, but at least I'll never lose the buttons again. To make matters worse, in all that time I haven't seen a single episode of Strange Love. I do believe I'm going through a Flava Flav withdrawal. Instead, they've been showing that stupid, stupid movie where that ugly girl from Saved by the Bell gets naked and sticks out her huge teeth so she looks like a blond donkey suffering from extraordinarily painful hemorhoids. Why, VH1? Why?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

But I digress. In my hours upon hours upon hours upon hours of staring at the boob tube (which is a total misnomer, because there's not enough boob and waaaaaaay too much tube), I've noticed a much more annoying phenomenon.

Every other commercial has something to do with Star Wars.

I'm not talking about commercials that are actually for Revenge of the Sith, and in no way am I hatin on the movie yo. If I wasn't excited to see it, they'd kick me out of computer science. Hmmm, maybe I should start hatin on the movie yo...

The commercials that are bothering me are the endless tie ins, most of which involve Darth Vader. A note to the hardworking (yeah, right) men and women in the advertising community: evil bastards like Darth Vader generally do not make good pitch men. We're not talking about your average evil bastard, either. We're talking about Space Hitler. Darth Vader is not a nice person, and eating anything he tells you to buy should sound like a really, really good way to make that one way trip to the emergency ward you've always dreamed about. If James Earl Jones were dead, he'd be rolling in his grave every time Darth Vader popped on television to sell a slurpy. As it is, my sources tell me he's been a bit gassy lately, and that commercial is probably why (and not because he's been drinking too many slurpies, dumb ass).

And then I made the mistake of flipping the channel to MTV the other day. Good Charlotte was performing what was probably the worst song ever on a Star Wars themed stage set up on the perfectly manicured grounds of George Lucas's Skywalker Ranch. Darth Vader stood behind the retarded drummer, raising his hands whenever the song reached a crescendo, or the closest thing to a crescendo that particular song could've reached. I've never hated television so much in my life, except whenever I see a John Basedow commercial or Pimp My Ride.

You've got to hand it to Lucas's marketing boys, though. Everybody on the planet knows Revenge of the Sith is about to hit theatres. Hell, if Helen Keller were alive, she'd probably be standing in line for tickets, albeit facing the wrong way. Yeah, I'm an ass.