Sorry Mr. Man

The folks at Pfizer have lost their touch. I can’t keep it up long enough (sorry, sorry, had to do it) on Sunday nights to watch Mad Men, so I’ve been catching my episodes of smarmy but sexy Jon Hamm (aka. the mysterious Mr. Draper) On Demand.

Last week, boss man Roger Sterling was just about to get it on with a, well, young lady of questionable morals shall we say, when they suddenly cut to that Viva Viagra commercial. Yes, timing so perfect that a man who’d taken his magic blue pill would never have the control to master. This week, the husband prancing around in that “should never again see the light of day” powder blue tux was back slam bang in the middle of my show, but the timing was off. First the prancing, then they cut to slimeball Pete Campbell about to leave a few million little Petes in a cup for the nurses at his wife’s OB/GYN’s office. Sorry, Big Pharma, you put your cart before the horse.

Maybe it’s because the news coming out of Sweden had them all ferklempt. Turns out wrinkly dads aren’t the mack daddies we’ve been lead to believe since a pill replaced the Smurfs as Americas favorite blue bit of magic! Older fathers, gasp, might actually be passing on problems to their kids too . . . this time, bipolar disorder!! Add this piece out of France back in July, that proved men hear the ticking of that biological clock too, and the little man’s feeling a bit of pressure.

Hehehehehe. Yes, that’s the giggling of every woman who’s been slapped on the rump by a guy who told her she’d better get cracking before those eggs start spoiling.

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