Since we crank out so many stories each week some really good ones get lost in the cracks. And since so many new people visit Guyism every day (thank you), we thought we’d take some time on the weekends and holidays to share a few classics that many of our newer readers may have missed.

Making a good Super Bowl commercial is hard. It takes months, if not years, of planning and research to make people remember your company’s ad. Conversely, 30 seconds of awfulness can make people remember you too, but for all the wrong reasons. Here are seven ads which definitely fall into the latter category.

6 Christopher Reeve walking – Nuveen Investments, 2000
In 2000, paralyzed former Superman star Christopher Reeve “appeared” in this commercial. The message was that in the future, a whole lot of crazy crap is going to happen. Including, apparently, Christopher Reeve’s head being grafted to the body of a giant.

The goal of the commercial was to touch the hearts of Americans everywhere. Instead, everyone just kind of went, “Uh, that was creepy” and awkwardly took a bite out of their chicken wings. Oh also no one had any clue what Nuveen Investments did either because the commercial was really vague and almost made Nuveen Investments seem like an evil corporation from the future. Probably like the one that made Robocop.

5 Meet the official Holiday Inn transsexual – Holiday Inn, 1997
The gist of this commercial was that being a man getting a sex change was basically what Holiday Inn was doing to their hotels. Why this would make you want to stay there, no one was really sure, but if it’s good enough for Seinfeld’s Kenny Banya, it’s good enough for me.

The commercial was universally disliked and even resulted in some boycotts from various gay/transsexual/transgender groups. Probably not even for the hurtful depiction of their people, but rather for the tremendous slap in the face of being compared to a Holiday Inn.

4 White guys hunt down Kenyan, give him shoes – Just for Feet, 1999
There are few situations in which white men hunting down a black guy is going to make for a nicely received ad. This ad falls in line with that bold theorem on my part.

The premise if you’re too lazy to click: A Kenyan guy is walking around, being barefoot and Kenyan when some white guys in a Hummer drug him, capture him, then put sneakers on him. Eventually, he gets up all wobbly and runs, trying to free himself from these strange objects on his feet. The ad was so poorly received that it got a feature story on how bad it was on Salon.com, got the ad agency behind it sued (Saatchi & Saatchi, the agency in question, would countersue for Just for Feet’s ineptitude), and had a hand in Just for Feet’s bankruptcy later that year. So yeah, that turned out well.

3 Lemmings – Apple, 1985
In 1984, Apple had what some have called the most amazing commercial ever with their cleverly titled ad “1984”, a name which no one has ever been able to decipher the meaning of. Amidst pressure to possibly match that ad, they came up with another artistic bizarre ad that, well, sucked. Hard.

The commercial was so poorly reviewed that Apple stayed away from Super Bowl ads until 1999. And to make the indignities suffered to viewers worse, this is the one Apple commercial that has a bunch of people dying gruesome deaths, yet Justin Long and his smug Mac-loving face are nowhere to be found. Bastards.

2 Salesgenie.com and their racist panda bears – Salesgenie.com, 2008
After a 2007 Super Bowl ad universally rated as the worst one of the year, Salesgenie.com came back determined to make more awful ads that would stick with viewers for being so awful. Seriously, they even distributed a press release about it. Well they can wipe their hands thusly because this certainly proved to be a job well done.

It may shock you to learn that this ad never ran again amidst protests from Asian groups for A) Being racist and B) Finding a way to make pandas seem utterly annoying (do you know how hard that is? Look at this guy!). Also I fail to see how pandas could be running a profitable business, particularly when it’s a business selling furniture made of their favorite food. I’d find myself wholly incapable of selling Hamburger Chairs so it wouldn’t be fair to expect more from my cartoon pandas.

1 Fred Astaire dances with vacuums – Dirt Devil, 1997
I don’t think this was the first in the tacky “Dead Guy Sells Product” type of ads, but it was definitely one of the earlier ones. And what better way to honor probably the only masculine dancer ever than by putting a vacuum in his hands.

Bonus video time! Since I feel so bad giving PETA so much attention, how about another clip of NMA wackiness? This time, featuring their take on the upcoming Where In The World Is Carmen San Diego? movie that’s set to star Jennifer Lopez. Gotta love the Oregon Trail reference they managed to sneak in…

You know, there really are few things on this planet that gets my blood boiling than animal abuse. Furry little creatures represent everything that’s wonderful about life, and conversely, how some people use and abuse them represents all that’s horrible. Thankfully, society has begun to make real progress as it pertains to protecting endangered species and acknowledging all the good that animals can do for us, but at the end of the day, it’s not nearly enough.

So that being said, another thing that legitimately pisses me off more than anything is The People For the Ethical Treatment of Animals, or PETA. The entity is as big of a sham as they go, up their with Scientology. The sad thing is, many people play along, since they too love animals and the like, without realizing how twisted and flat our retarded their dogma can be. My fave is how they’re for the liberation of all animals, even seeing eye dogs for blind people, which to me is the best example of how awesome animals can be.

In the end, animals have their place in the grand scheme of things, and us people deserve to be part of that circle of life. Hence why I feel eating animals is not inherently evil, nor is hunting them… provided that everything is done sensibly ethically. But the hate and misinformation that PETA spews threatens any underlying positive message that might be contained within. I agree that the manner in which animals we keep in captivity to provide food for us is deplorable, but their sensationalized manner in which they deliver their message is completely counter-productive. It’s like Michael Moore; I basically agree with everyone he says, but he’s so insufferably annoying, is there why I don’t want anything to do with what he’s saying or doing?

But back to PETA; its due to their inability to properly articulate their causes, and the fact that no one pays them any attention anymore has led them to attack yet another high profile target that has pretty much nothing to do with animal abuse. In this case, Nintendo, whom they believe are telling kids that wearing fur is okay. Specifically, whenever Mario dons the Tanooki suit in Super Mario 3D Land. And to help illustrate this “fact”, they’ve crafted yet another wonderful game on the web…

… It can be played here. On the plus side, the music ain’t half bad, and the levels are randomly produced, which is pretty neat. But its riddled with bugs and is simply boring overall. Though I do love the phallic backgrounds.

Sorry, but at least their take on Cooking Mama was much better, and that’s not saying much.

And they don’t like the way that chickens are being treated, what with being forced to lay eggs and stuff.

So, to make people more aware of horrible way that chickens are treated, NOAH got a bunch of chickens, stuffed them into an “Egg Vending Machine” and then put them in the middle of Frankfurt, Germany.

The irony is STRONG with these guys, huh? Sure, there’s a “no chickens were harmed” disclaimer in the video, but that’s a lie, because I know they were harmed. They were stuck in a vending machine for several hours, instead of hanging out in what appears to be a pretty comfortable chicken coup.

Also, the complaint that 68 percent of chickens are forced to lay eggs? Well, that’s lower than 100 percent and I’m sure it’s only improving as time goes by and more and more people feel the yuppy-draw of organic, farm-fresh food.

And what’s up with the Germans being so horrified? This wouldn’t even draw the slightest glance from the goofiest tourist in the middle of Times Square if it happened here.

I could go on (I thought it was going to be an esoteric examination of the chicken v. the egg! What’s up with the over-the-top sad piano music?) but three complaints about this video seem sufficient.

Live Chicken-Egg Vending Machine – [CopyRanter]

Once again, I’m conflicted with PETA. I’m all for creative advertisements that border on pornography. But they seem so douchey at other times (see: their crusade against the Pet Shop Boys).

At the same time, rarely has an eggplant gotten me so mentally aroused. Other than when my aunt makes it with a quality Parmesan. What can I say? She’s got a lot of experience pounding large black objects.

PETA’s Controversial New Super Bowl Ad (VIDEO/NSFW) [Huffington Post]

“…What the hell is that?’ This thing kind of shows up and looks like it’s going to hit the car. Brett goes, ‘It’s an armadillo.”

Now he’s accelerated the car toward the house and he says, ‘I’m going to get that SOB. I thought I got rid of him. They eat grubs. Just tear the heck out of the grass.”

He lets Deanna out of the car. We jump in his truck. He’s got two guns in the back seat of his truck. We go back down the road to find the thing. He pulls out a flashlight. It’s like a police flashlight. I say, ‘That much light comes out of that flashlight?’

“He’s looking over here, over there. We look over and now it’s crossed the creek and coming over the road. He grabs his gun and goes, “Boom, boom, boom.” Then he goes, ‘Goshdangit.’ Now he’s thinking about whether to set a trap. Now he’s got the armadillo in his head.”

Evidently, that’s what goes on down South. Up here, if us Yankees drove around with guns in the backseat of our truck, we’d “Plaxico Burress” ourselves straight into a prison for two years.

And I can’t wait for PETA to inject themselves into this story in the next few days. The hilarity of their armadillo signs and costumes alone will be enough to provide entertainment for at least one Sunday outside the Metrodome. I’m personally pulling for this chick to make an appearance.

Brad Childress went armadillo hunting on Brett Favre’s Mississippi ranch [USA Today]

Pamela Anderson “helped” release a rehabilitated pelican back into the world in Malibu on Sunday, but that’s not what gets her on the site today. It’s for one photo. One wonnnderful photo. Oh sure, her being a cause celeb for PETA is newsworthy to some people in the media. Not me. I’m all about giving celebs using their best assets to their fullest and on Sunday Pamela Sue Anderson did just that. Way to go, Tool Time Girl.

By now I am sure you have seen Olivia Munn’s naked PETA ad. If not, go here. Now that you have seen it, I have a question. My question is, “Why does Olivia care so much about elephants being used in circuses, but doesn’t mind cows being skinned for the boots she wore to her PETA ad unveiling?” And pleeease don’t try telling me that they aren’t leather. (BONUS video below because you love her even if she is hypocritical.)

“Here’s the wheel, Wilma. Now let’s discuss how you might give me a blumpkin without the bathroom sink dinosaur noticing.”

Man invented the wheel, so that he could later invent the Ferrari, then the string to place gently on guitars, and right now somewhere in the world there is a guy in a Ferrari listening to the Dave Matthews band in his new car because this is his hot blonde model girlfriend’s favorite song; and like Hannibal from the A-Team, that man is basking in the glory of a plan coming together.

It’s no accident that men do stupid things for women. I’ve been on my share of boring museum tours, an art gallery opening that looked more like a murder scene, weddings for people I don’t know, spent a hellacious afternoon in a Bed Bath and Beyond (charges were later dropped) and yes, I’ve been “paint shopping” before. That’s right, I spent a day looking at those little paint cards at Lowe’s and ended the trip by screaming “There are only two shades of white! There’s “white” and there’s “NOT FING WHITE!” “Pick a Goddamn shade or so help me I’ll take this nail gun and mow EVERYONE in this place down!!!”

Oh yeah, I’ve also been to over three dozen flower shops in probably a dozen or so states. Nothing says “I’m sorry for screaming about voluntary manslaughter in public again,” better than a dozen red roses and a well thought out card.

These pictures show the lengths that men will go to in order to gain their affections. Some are dumb and some are down right idiotic, but the one thing that all males have in common is the shame that goes with doing stupid things for the women we love/want to love/want to have sex with.

Learn to play guitar

So you wanna be a rock and roll star?
Well listen now to what I say
Just get an electric guitar
And take some time
And learn how to play

As I was saying earlier, men don’t learn to play instruments to get record contracts, men learn to play instruments to get laid. I knew a guy in college and I’m pretty sure he could only play two things: Air Supply and Dave Matthews. How you run the musical gamut and fall face first into those two bands, I still have no idea, but it’s what he knew and it’s all he cared to learn and by God it worked on the ladies.

Now, I’m not going to tell you how many times in a day one has to hear “Crash Into Me,” in a single sitting before they get the urge to kill (1 ½), but I’ll tell you this–no man learns to play Air Supply unless he’s trying to impress a woman. Hell, Air Supply doesn’t listen to Air Supply records without a woman in the room. And you’ll never hear a grown man playing Dave Matthews in a crowd with no woman present unless he wants an epic Full Metal Jacket soap-in-a-pillowcase-style beating.

Yet, everyday young boys pick up guitars and dream of being big rock singers. Actually, they see some hot girl they want to impress—then they decide it’s time to grab and axe and learn to make them swoon. And can you blame them? It’s the only profession that women will throw their panties at you while you work. They certainly don’t do that down at the H&R Block.

Dressing like a total moron

Yeah, so I figured I’d just wake-up this morning, throw on some tighty whiteys, not put on my pants, (screw’em there’s no law against not wearing pants in public), I’d pick out my goofiest red scarf, get my best set of bull horns (the ones I bought at an Indian Casino that my Mom said I would never wear) and head out into the general public, where people are free to point and laugh and possibly arrest me for indecent exposure. A group of Rodeo Clowns called and they want to know what it’s like to wear such a ridiculous outfit. If this blonde is not in this picture, this guy is down at the zoo in his Zorro outfit, brandishing a sword and stabbing everything in sight.

Now if one of my buddies were to come into my apartment looking like this we would get the video camera and shame him until he jumped off a bridge, which leads us to…

Jumping off of really high crap

Gravity has mocked man since the beginning of history. What goes up, must come down. And what goes up even further, comes down all that much harder. Think about how many times that you’ve seen a male jump off of something that you knew was high enough to get him injured. Could you talk sense into him? Maybe. Throw in a girl (or group) and a camcorder and all the sudden the Rock Quarry has so many men falling from the sky that it looks like D-Day. That’s where they get the term, “It’s Raining Men.” True Story.

I don’t know what it is in the male mind that makes us think that women will be impressed by succumbing to gravity from great heights, but we continue to do so and will not stop fighting gravity till we have impressed each and every woman on the planet. But, us really smart guys know that you don’t need to jump off things to impress a woman. That’s what motorcycle wheelies are for. Which leads us to…

Performing in Public

Hmmm, how do I turn my gift of sword swallowing into a way to pick up chicks? Walk to the nearest corner in Santa Monica and you’ll find out. Guys with guitars, guys with monkeys, mimes, sword swallowers, hell, I was in the car one day and saw a guy in Hollywood dressed as Jack Sparrow from the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Not only was he dressed like a moron, he was on stilts and juggled. A true Renaissance man of doing dumb things to impress women. When I saw him, he was on his break smoking a cigarette and get this, he was talking to a girl. I then did what anyone would do, I yelled “Juggle bitch!”

And sure enough he dropped his cigarette and started doing his juggling spiel. Now some of you might think he did that for me, but I knew he was just showing off for the young lady he was with. It’s like Napoleon Dynamite said, “Girls like guys with skills.” And when we hone those skills to a certain point, it’s time to show the lady folk. That didn’t stop me from throwing nickels at tall Jack Sparrow and yelling “Dance Monkey, Dance!”

At some point you have to look at yourself in the mirror and realize that maybe your skill set is not something that is going to help you with the ladies. Like, let’s say this guy…

Lying

Did you know my buddy was an ex-fighter pilot who once on a Christmas Eve saved 11 orphans from the “Great St. John’s Orphanage School Bus Fire of 01″? It flipped six times and was submerged at the bottom of a lake, as he dove in and dragged the children to the safety of the shore, which happened to be on a Golden Retriever farm, where he bought each of those kids a puppy and essentially saved both the children’s lives and their faith in humanity in one grand heroic gesture. That day he patched the damaged souls of children who felt they had nothing more in this world to believe in. He was even on the Today Show on it and all on the day before he went on a space mission to help repair the Hubble Telescope. Did you know that?

Either did we until last night at the bar. It’s amazing what you learn about other people once they’ve had a few drinks. We didn’t even know he knew how to swim! But we now know that putting the words “Golden Retriever” and “fighter pilot” in a sentence that ends with “another round of Jose Cuervo shots,” is now a no-brainer when talking to the opposite sex. Right Maverick?

Wrestling/Boxing

Now I understand that there are probably people out there that actually like getting hit in the face. One day you’re sitting in your boring office, the next day you’re starting a Fight Club and the next thing you know you’re blowing up the Citibank Offices. I’ve seen it happen a thousand times.

For the rest of us, we usually shy away from physical altercations. However, if you get several men in the company of women and somebody decides to start wrestling, all hell usually breaks loose. I’ve seen minor wrestling matches between two buddies trying to impress the same girl that went from a few playful armbars and escalated into WrestleMania 12. It starts with someone pushing someone, then it’s a sleeper hold, then somebody ends up pinning someone to the ground and won’t let them up until they emasculate themselves by saying something like “Josh is the Ultimate Warrior and I’m just a little bitch,” and then when Josh finally lets them up, it switches from WrestleMania and morphs into a Tyson/Holyfield fight. By the end of it all, somebody is bleeding, multiple people are screaming in tongues and usually the girl in question is super pissed off and ends up walking home.

Moral of the story: Women always say they want a man that can protect them, but if that were true, the hottest women would be married to the best lawyers. So unless you’re Anderson Silva and especially if you’re out in public, instead of fighting why not just relax, take a deep breath and slash a guy’s tires. It hurts a hell of a lot less than having your mouth wired shut…what am I saying, you’re gonna fight, so you better fight dirty, win, and get the girl, or you’re just going to end up looking like a douchebag…

Popping a collar and acting like a complete douchebag

But for some reason unbeknownst to us; ladies do enjoy the company of guys who are douchebags…

Written by BOH contributor Shawn. If you’re an attractive woman, or an unattractive man, follow him on Twitter. Please. He feels neglected.

If you liked this, you may also like 7 real-life women who’d help you survive on the LOST island or the 16 best creepy old man photobombs.

PETA is sending President Barack Obama a Katcha Bug Humane Bug Catcher, a device that allows users to trap a house fly and then release it outside.

“We support compassion even for the most curious, smallest and least sympathetic animals,” PETA spokesman Bruce Friedrich said Wednesday. “We believe that people, where they can be compassionate, should be, for all animals.”

During an interview for CNBC at the White House on Tuesday, a fly intruded on Obama’s conversation with correspondent John Harwood.

“Get out of here,” the president told the pesky insect. When it didn’t, he waited for the fly to settle, put his hand up and then smacked it dead.

“Now, where were we?” Obama asked Harwood. Then he added: “That was pretty impressive, wasn’t it? I got the sucker.”

Friedrich said that PETA was pleased with Obama’s voting record in the Senate on behalf of animal rights and noted that he has been outspoken against animal abuses.

Still, “swatting a fly on TV indicates he’s not perfect,” Friedrich said, “and we’re happy to say that we wish he hadn’t.”

PETA would pretty much issue a press release if you hugged a puppy too tightly, so you can’t really take them too seriously. But still, this is a bit of a stretch. Flies exist in the billions in any given area. I’m sure this fly’s wife was kind of sad, but I’m pretty sure they’re not even legally married. Plus there’s a guy at the fly wife’s job who’s been really good to her and I’m pretty sure they’ll hook up once she gets over the initial heartbreak of losing her lover. He’ll take care of all the larvae for sure. Oh, also…they’re f’ing flies so none of this matters.

[via]

This is Imogen Bailey, not Ingrid. But if it were Ingrid, man, this story would…still be the same amount of creepy

a. That the “meat” of my body, or a portion thereof, be used for a human barbecue, to remind the world that the meat of a corpse is all flesh, regardless of whether it comes from a human being or another animal, and that flesh foods are not needed;

b. That my skin, or a portion thereof, be removed and made into leather products, such as purses, to remind the world that human skin and the skin of other animals is the same and that neither is “fabric” nor needed, and that some skin be tacked up outside the Indian Leather Fair each year to serve as a reminder of the government’s need to abate the suffering of Indian bullocks who, after a life of extreme and involuntary servitude, as I have seen firsthand, are exported all over the world in this form;

c. That in remembrance of the elephant-foot umbrella stands and tiger rugs I saw, as a child, offered for sale by merchants at Connaught Place in Delhi, my feet be removed and umbrella stands or other ornamentation be made from them, as a reminder of the depravity of killing innocent animals, such as elephants, in order that we might use their body parts for household items and decorations;

d. That one of my eyes be removed, mounted, and delivered to the administrator of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency as a reminder that PETA will continue to be watching the agency until it stops poisoning and torturing animals in useless and cruel experiments; that the other is to be used as PETA sees fit;

e. That my pointing finger be delivered to Kenneth Feld, owner of Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, or to a circus museum to stand as the “Greatest Accusation on Earth” on behalf of the countless elephants, lions, tigers, bears, and other animals who have been kidnapped from their families and removed from their homelands in India, Thailand, Africa, and South America and deprived of all that is natural and pleasant to them, abused, and forced into involuntary servitude for the sake of cheap entertainment;

f. That my liver be vacuum-packed and shipped, in whole or in part, to France, to there be used in a public appeal to persuade shoppers not to support the vile practice of force-feeding geese and ducks for foie gras;

g. That one of my ears be removed, mounted, and sent to the Canadian Parliament to assist them in hearing, for the first time perhaps, the screams of the seals, bears, raccoons, foxes, and minks bludgeoned, trapped, and sometimes skinned alive for their pelts; that the other ear be removed, preserved, and displayed outside the Deonar abattoir in Mumbai to remind all who do business there that the screams of the cattle who are slaughtered within its walls are heard around the world;

h. That one of my thumbs be removed, mounted upwards on a plaque, and sent to the person or institution that, in the year of my death or thereabouts, PETA decides has done the most to promote alternatives to the use and abuse of animals in any area of their exploitation;

i. That one of my thumbs be mounted in a downward position and sent to the person or institution that, in the year of my death or thereabouts, has gone against the changing tide of societal opinion and frightened and hurt animals in some egregious manner;

j. That a little part of my heart be buried near the racetrack at Hockenheim, preferably near the Ferrari pits, where Michael Shumacher raced in and won the German Grand Prix;

k. That anything else be done with my body that PETA believes will serve to draw attention to and so abate the plight of exploited animals.

I’m not the hugest fan of PETA. I mean yeah, I have a cat whom I rescued as a kitten and she’s adorable and I don’t anyone to eat her or wear her fur as a pelt. But that doesn’t mean I want to stop eating delicious hamburgers or other cats which Chinese restaurants pretend is sesame chicken. I admire the dedication to the cause though. To say people can eat you and torture you is pretty amazing. And having body parts sent to your enemies is pretty cool (although even more cool when it’s the body part of their family members, I’d think, since the “sending a horse’s head” option is probably out).

Nonetheless, it’s also a bit of a cop-out. There are certainly some brutal practices done to animals at some of these places, though I don’t believe every single one is as inhumane as PETA would lead you to believe. But having these things done to your corpse is kind of cheap. I mean, your body won’t be too delicious for the human barbecue if you’re dead and THEN you do the barbecue (how many cows are fed to us that died of old age and natural causes?). I’d say if you were really dedicated, you’d go to some third world country where they make the food and have them do it to you ALIVE. That’d really show us all the horrors of these facilities and really make me question my philosophies before I eat seven cheeseburgers in one sitting. I didn’t say it’d change my mind, but I’d briefly consider it, for sure.

[via]

I kind of find it hard to believe that vegetarians have better sex. I mean, granted, there are a lot of fat nasty people out there who eat buckets full of meat and, as a result, can’t do one jumping jack let alone lift their pubic fat long enough to have a rousing five minutes of intercourse, but I’m not entirely sure that stuffing yourself full of lima beans is going to make you Big Dick Jones either. In fact, eating all the cucumbers and pickles and carrots and bananas and various other phallic veggiefruits might just make you feel as inadequate as that time you gave hernia exams to the Nigerian Olympic Team. Sure you didn’t have a fancy “medical degree” or “experience” but you had a passion for the materials at hand and dammit that has to count for something.

It must have taken some real genius at PETA to determine that the best way to get people to ever pretend to care about their cause (listen, I love animals, but I’ll be damned if I stop eating delicious cows because I like scratching kitty cats behind their ears) is to get semifamous women to strip down and say fur sucks. Nobody had ever tried such a daring, outside-the-box idea before PETA.

I’m not kidding when I say that Khloe’s surprisingly flawless body could get me behind any number of causes. Honestly, Chairman Mao could have had Khloe’s ass on some memo saying I needed to start making metal on my farm instead of rice and food and I’d be like, “Fuck yeah dude, glory be to you, Chairman!” But you can’t eat metal. And no ass, no matter how fine, can change that. Tricky man, that Mao.

It’s kind of funny to see someone doused by powder because other people being embarrassed is always entertaining (like that time I dumped the pigs’ blood on that weird C Carrie and then left town…not that she’d have ever gotten me back for it! hi5!), but I really can’t sanction these actions.

Any time a woman with marvelous breasts like Lindsay Lohan is attached or insulted by an inferior creature such as that pixiesh lesbian (not just in haircut, but running style too), we should all be outraged. This ugly ugly woman didn’t just throw powder at Lindsay Lohan, she powdered all of our erections. Powdered them into withered nothings. And for what? So some faggy little mink can frolic around doing exciting mink activities like crapting on its food, eating it, and sleeping? Absurd.

People don’t seem to like fish. They’re slithery and slimy, and they have eyes on either side of their pointy little heads—which is weird, to say the least. Plus, the small ones nibble at your feet when you’re swimming, and the big ones—well, the big ones will bite your face off if Jaws is anything to go by.

Of course, if you look at it another way, what all this really means is that fish need to fire their PR guy—stat. Whoever was in charge of creating a positive image for fish needs to go right back to working on the Britney Spears account and leave our scaly little friends alone. You’ve done enough damage, buddy. We’ve got it from here. And we’re going to start by retiring the old name for good. When your name can also be used as a verb that means driving a hook through your head, it’s time for a serious image makeover. And who could possibly want to put a hook through a sea kitten?

Granted, PETA may be the most pompous, obnoxious political group around. But there’s a certain nobility to defending cute little animals from being tortured and turned into food or cows being turned to food in inhumane ways. There’s slightly less of a nobility trying to keep me from eating some asshole who swims around like an idiot and craps in the same place he drinks and breathes. I can’t even scratch a fish behind its ear and go “Who’s a good girl! Wuzzy wuzzy wuzza wooo wuzza wooo.”

And look, don’t get me wrong, I love my cat (the official Kitten of Hilarity, Nilla), but if her brothers and sisters whom I never met went good with wasabi and soy, I’d probably contemplate taking a bite. Or two. Doesn’t make me a bad person. It makes me a connoisseur.