This is Not My Beautiful House

Today, I was asked to create a subliminal commercial to help a company pitch their cleaning products. 

I can't do that. 

Let me rephrase that.  I can but I won't do that. 

I studied subliminal imagery and the psychology of symbols in grad school.  I spend a lot of time with a couple of sound engineers and learned to create subliminal recordings of all types. I also worked with the former producer of PBS documentaries to learn how to make videos. 

I've studied hypnotic phenomena since I was fourteen years old.  

As a teen, I learned that boys who thought you could hypnotize them tended to run away on the first date.

If they don't run away, they try to make you give it up and go to church with them because they think that hypnotism will condemn one to hell. 

I'll spare you the story of the end of my first relationship.  I'll just say that many of my friends wanted to know if he pissed me off enough to hypnotize him into embarrassing himself. 

He didn't embarrass himself...he just tried to be culturally advanced in a cowboy town.  People didn't get it. 

I guess I should say what he did....he wore a ceremonial Scottish outfit to school.  He would have been better off in a cowboy hat and boots with smelly horse patties on the bottom of them.

I thought he was hot. 

Still....no one wanted to date me after the rumor started that I hypnotize boyfriends into showing off their legs.  Boys still tried to sneak kisses or reach down my blouse and up my skirt but.....alas..... no one from high school bought me dinner after that. 

Okay...that's a lie.  Brad bought me a Diet Coke last year and offered to buy me lunch but I was on a diet (hence the soda). 

It's so cute that starving men will forgo a meal to be with a woman.  I wish they'd understand....they can eat more than 1,200 calories a day.  I can't or my morning routine would involve putting lipstick on a pig. 

Oh...now I AM a liar.  The adorable Scotsman reference above bought me lunch on two occasions.  I even got fancy coffee and tea. 


Okay....it took twenty-four years for any boys from high school to buy me lunch....still no dinner nor breakfast.   They obviously respect me far too much to buy me alcohol.  That's okay....

I'll stay mum on whether or not I hypnotize them. 

I do have guys that I knew back in the day (who attended other high schools) visit me and buy me beer before trying to set me up with their roomates that tag along.  This is probably why I haven't officially divorced...it's the perfect excuse to get out of an obvious set up for a one-night stand. 

Nope...can't do it...I'm honoring my wedding vows. 

If I had a quarter for every time I uttered that phrase, I'd have the heavy purse of a cheap whore on a busy night.  After twelve years in a dead marriage, it adds up. 

The most memoriable reply to my wedding vow line was from a guy who protested....'but you don't look married!"

Ha...Ha...Ha...

What? 

Am I supposed to be morbidly obese, wearing an apron and wearing the faint scent of dish soap?


Sigh....

I digress. 

It is easy to create NLP/hypnotic/subliminal advertisements but it would be unethical for someone in my profession to do such a thing.  There are marketing techniques that are far more effective, sure they utilize NLP and hypnotic phenemena but professional marketers use tried, tested and true techniques. 

I ended up referring the company to a marketing specialist that I trust. 

Still.....

if I wanted to find images that would connect with women who try to avoid looking at or buying cleaning products...

it would be something like this.

The concept of a hot guy cleaning the house works for most women. 

Those of us with OCD....well....we would throw up wondering what the guy in the picture did with the spatula. 

Oh crud.....I'm going to have nightmares of this guy now. 

At least it will beat nightmares of my exes fighting with girls, breaking limbs, falling out of airplanes, having a heart attack, drowning, skiing into trees, or eating themselves to death (ala the Monty Python thin wafer sketch)......

or whatever the nightmare of the week is. 

Love,

S. 

Just in case you don't know about the Thin Wafer Sketch, you can view it above.  While hypnotizing the man in the basement to try to get down to why he is overeating, he brings this up and says he's trying to kill himself. 

No, I can't make him get help.  He has to do that himself. 

He's been in and out of therapy for the past twelve years.  The last time he was fired from his job for seeking help.  I'm going to crucify his governmental employer over that one.....they want to increase taxes to pay for mental health care yet fire people for seeking help.  I'm just biding my time...

We've spent thousands of dollars on bariatric services, too.  Each time, he gets bigger. 

I can't make him do what he doesn't want to do.  He's going to need a wake up call. 

If only he'd remember the first part of the sketch.  Isn't it lovely to have something other than an inny?

I'm about to cry....there comes a time when the fat pad overshadows even the most well endowed among us.   

Maybe....if he met a hot woman who could help him work it off? 

Maybe? 

One can hope.


I'm obviously not hot enough. 

Sniff...