Indications That One Might Have A Problem

Is it a bad sign when people across the country are sending you link to the same thing? Am I that predictable? Is it so obvious? Could these questions be any more rhetorical?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0c5agGJQAE

No, I didn’t see it during the Super Bowl yesterday. As shocking as it may be, I wasn’t watching the Super Bowl. I don’t usually watch the Super Bowl. In fact, the last time I can remember making a point to watch it was at the house of one Albeson Melbeson, in the 9^th grade. I am now going to pointedly NOT mention how many years ago that was. But it was, like, a bunch.

Thanks to all my friends, though, who are aware of my freakish stalking refined appreciation for Msr. Brody’s nuanced theatrical skills.

Though, as I mentioned to my bubbly champagne loving friend and sometimes commenter, this does raise a few questions.

Bless his little pea-picking heart. I really do wonder about his seeming propensity for self injury. I mean, he takes the what could possibly the single most testosterone laden, American machismo defining moment of the year, the mouth-breathing-knuckle-dragging grunter’s high holy day, and chooses that time to sally forth in an artsy, jazzy commercial about imported beer.

With a French accent.

French.

This raises an interesting set of questions as to Monsieur Brody's state of mind:

1. Really perverse sense of humour, and willing to tank career just to make himself laugh?
2. Really perverse sense of humour, and wants to fuck with anyone who liked his manly man performance in Predators? (Take that, you wankers that finally gave me some notice because I made things go ka-blooey. You can’t pigeon hole me! Now somebody get me Halle Berry to make out with.)
3. Self destructive and self sabotaging? (Take that, action movie star cred! Now somebody get me a coffin-like structure in which to entomb myself.)
4. Soooooooooooooo high that it seemed like a good idea at the time?
5. So in love with himself that it seemed like a good idea at the time? (Damn, I’m even sexy when I sing in a faux French accent to beer! C WUT I DID THAR? Faux? French? Damn, I’m the shit! Now get me a picture of myself to make out with. Just grab one off of Hawkeye’s computer.)
6. Just does not Give A Fuck. At All.

Sub Question:

a. Who the fuck is in charge of marketing at Stella Artois and what demographic were they aiming for here? 

In my universe, the one in my head, there is a 7^th option.

  7. Did it for me, to make me smile. (There is no need to point out the sheer crazy     behind this. I know. I’m aware. Once I find a 12 step, I’ll join it. Maybe.)

As unlikely as #7 is, if it has any pertinence outside my delusional wistful wantings, allow me to advance a small suggestion to ABrods: next time, make me smile by being in the same room as me. Just a thought, throwing it out there.

Summation: 

Adrien Brody. Following in Brando's footsteps, and making women the world over wish they were named Stella.

PEE ESS: There is a person in my office who has a picture of a Bakugan character that he and his friend cooked up. He’s called Adrien Barodius, invincible to all things except the Power of Love, and able to make his enemies weep at will. I’m not making this up. It’s not just me.

Scary, huh?