Let’s be real: Too many commercials on television royally suck. The Hypodermic Needle Theory is a bust — we viewers do not absorb product desire simply through visual osmosis. Sure, sitting on my couch watching a Wife Swap marathon isn’t exactly the most intelligent thing I could do every Wednesday afternoon (hypothetically speaking), but that doesn’t make me the Scarecrow.

Bud Light “Clothing Drive”: In a most exciting follow-up to the first Emmy awarded viral commercial, “Swear Jar”, DDB reunited the office gang with “Clothing Drive.” It seems that there has been a lot of awkward (awesome?) nudity in advertisements lately, but this might be my own lingering misconception thanks to CBS uncomfortably airing back-to-back wardrobe malfunct

Last night was my version of Christmas. I wish I were kidding. I think my roommates are about to have my head with how much I talk about commercials and how I refuse to acknowledge the fact that while yes, we do have DVR… no, I will not fast forward commercials. So with what little qualification of being an advertising maniac I have, here’s my commentary on the commercials that stuck out in my brain during my last night’s binge (aka the Super Bowl).

July 2, 1979: the day that Funk died. According to the legend (courtesy of The Mighty Boosh), Funk is actually a living creature, fallen to Earth from another planet. Discovered by Bootsy Collins, the Funk was milked, which was turned into a Funky milkshake and consumed by Bootsy, bringing himself some Funk and transforming him into the funk-master he became. Funk’s death was a tragic accident — while Parliament was touring, George Clinton knocked it off the mothership.

George Clinton is responsible for the death of Funk. Supposedly.

I don’t believe that Funk is dead. I, in fact, witnessed the funkiness of George Clinton and the P-Funk All Stars at BB King’s a few weeks ago and have concluded that George, in fact, kidnapped the Funk for his own selfish needs.