Smirnoff Ice

All right, Smirnoff Ice commercials.



I concede. You win. You’ve unabashedly created an advertising campaign that has handedly trivialized my entire conception of being young and having a good time. Watching your commercials makes being a divorced father who’s only satisfaction comes from watching three hour blocks of Law and Order reruns on VHS prior to going to bed at 7:00 pm on a weekday in preparation for my life as a substitute teacher look absolutely fucking wild. Don’t get me wrong. My idea of a good time isn’t quite sneaking onto a golf course with my friends to setup an impromtu slip 'n slide with excessive amounts of a particularly shitty and too sweet alcoholic beverage popularized by sorority girls leeching off dad’s wallet to live a comfortable life of being ceaselessly fucked by fraternity boys named Luke, Tyson or Austin. I’m just offended you think we’re in the same ballpark.

I mean jesus fucking christ, Smirnoff Ice. You make me never want to have fun. Ever again. From this day forward I’ll get the chills every time myself and all my friends with toned bodies who don’t look fucking ridiculous in fedoras sneak into abandoned pools to have one of our impromptu ‘fill this shit with old mattresses and sponges that god knows how we came upon so we can fucking JUMP in it’ party, on the grounds some asshole might show up with a case of Smirnoff Ice and trivialize the whole god damn thing.