What seems like many years now, we in the Midwest have been subjected to many nauseating, but embarrassingly humorous TV ads by our favorite recreational product pushers, Watson’s. You know the slogan: “That’s Watsons!” We’ve laughed and cried at all the hideous outfits and roller coaster weight control exhibited by the Watson’s Babe. We’ve cringed and cried at the over-tanned dude and often pondered whether or not he is married to, or sleeping with, his vivacious counterpart and is, in fact, the cause of her fluctuating mass. Throughout this we have taken some comfort in the fact that they are our own, small-time, Midwestern, homegrown hams.
Bogus Bastards!! On my recent trip to Memphis, Tennessee, I was shocked and horrified while watching television when I saw you-know-who, doing what I thought they only did in my proverbial backyard. No longer will I feel sorry for these two spurious sluts, nor will I mull over their life away from the camera lights and carcinogenic sun-tanning lamps.
Bogus Bastards!! On my recent trip to Memphis, Tennessee, I was shocked and horrified while watching television when I saw you-know-who, doing what I thought they only did in my proverbial backyard. No longer will I feel sorry for these two spurious sluts, nor will I mull over their life away from the camera lights and carcinogenic sun-tanning lamps.
Oh, and here's a link to find a bit more info about this sham of all shams. Apparently, many have been duped into believing that these two are just a couple of small town rubes. Watson's Girl
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