This is not because I hate my mother. I don't - she's awesome, but because of the patronising fucking ads on TV I have to suffer through.
I was thrilled to find out today that Lindsay hates the KFC ads as much as I do because they are the absolute pits. How fucking sad are the lives of the women in these ads that having their own bodyweight in deep fried chicken shoved down their throat is supposed to be the highlight of the year? And why do their families get to sit around with shit-eating grins, acting like they deserve a medal for waddling their giant arses down the road with a twenty?
Moreover, why are these ads strongly implying to me that 364 days a year these women are chained to the stove? Why don't their husbands put down the drumstick and get into the goddamn kitchen more than once a year? I swear I've seen one of these ads in which the mother ends up cleaning up after her disgusting progeny, though that may have been a dream I had during one of my KFC-ad-induced rage blackouts.
Almost as bad as KFC's offerings was the sad little press release I received today from... I don't even know who, suggesting that the best way for Dad and the kids to celebrate Mother's Day was to get into the kitchen (again) and bake her something with cranberries.
Oh jesus. Is this really what mother's day has come down to? Chicken fat and cranberries? Just do me a favour and rip my womb out right now.