Promises, Promises

I hate all things insipid. If I'm going to eat cheese, I want a nice strong gorgonzola or a robust romano. American cheese is fine for food fights, but I want flavor in my food. And in my words. Last week, I was walking through the reception area at my office, and I noticed that there were Dove chocolates (bittersweet! 63%!) in the candy bowl. The chocolate itself was strong and tasty, but then I looked at the inside of the little foil wrapper, and there was a platitude. "Life is a bouquet of rich aromas." Oh for the love of Mike. (Mike: call me!)

I think Dove has always had these things in their chocolates but they weren't always so cloyingly pointless. I understand that there's not a lot of room on the wrapper, but you don't need many words to make a strong point. Think of those little candy hearts that you get around Valentine's Day. They taste awful, sure, but the messages are short and to the point: "BE MINE," "LUV YU," "BEND OVER," "MORE LUBE."

Anyway, I got to thinking. The Dove messages are useless, but the idea of a message in an unexpected place is a sound one. I couldn't help wondering what other small, foil-wrapped item might benefit from a short message. You see where I'm going with this, don't you? I knew you would. So here are some more of the Dove promises (On some days I ate as many as two, just to collect them: do you see how I torture myself for your benefit?), followed by an analogous, but improved, message to go next to the latex. (Venture capitalists: call me!) You'll have to excuse me for not photoshopping mock-ups of condom wrappers. I don't know how.


An insipid message about insipid music. Elevator music is pretty much designed so that you don't want to sing along to it and so that if you did want to sing along to it, you still couldn't. Simply to be contrarian, I might be tempted to sing a harmony part in the elevator, except that we don't have music in the elevators here. Besides, except for when I'm singing in the choir, I've given up singing harmony in public for the next few months, as part of my public mourning for the demise of We, Like Sheep.

For the condom wrapper, I'd go with a musical reference here:

Why must love be like a ball and chain?


Yeah, you heard it from Dove first: compromise is a bad thing. Let's hope that no one at the State Department or the Annapolis conference got that one. For the condom wrapper (in smaller print, to fit):

Wear the fucking condom. If he says he wants it bare, grunt. When he sees you pull the condom off say, "How did that get there?" It's easier to get forgiveness than permission.


Because if you don't, someone else will sell them, I guess. Really, where do they come up with this shit? For the condom wrapper:

Own the ass. Property is theft, and stolen fruit is the sweetest.


Yep. And x still equals x. Condom wrapper:

Ass a little funky? We also have a full line of latex gloves!



Have you ever tried to listen to your heartbeat and dance at the same time? It always beats in two: what if you want to waltz? And doesn't your heart beat faster when you dance? Does anyone else see a positive feedback loop problem here? Condom wrapper:

Shut up and fuck.

Maybe we'll just put that on all of them.