Direct-zolfuckall RNA

Dingo: Ahh yes, a submission from a lovely blog viewer.  Before I begin to dissect this loverly piece of advert, let me offer you praise on the HD quality image. This .jpg  makes me seethe with testosterone fueled anticipation that I might one day place my stamen anywhere around those porcelain veneers.

"High quality RNA from Tri-Reagent or similar acid-guanidinium-phenol reagents" Fuck, and I thought I was about to get a blowjob from a reasonably attractive Puerto Rican!? Lets take a step back and think about the ad wizards that decided to go with this concept. I will bet that there was one Harvard MBA that suggested they simply provide a list on benefits from Direct-zolfuckall RNA.  He was promptly fired and made to work at a customer service hotline for reasonably priced prosthetics which eventually led to him severing his own leg due to his preexisting condition of self mutilation that he had fought for years, but the direct contact with amputees pushed his psychosis over the edge into Hunter S. Thompson territory!

"There is only one way to sell this product" says Mitchell Davidson (Mitch to nobody) an overweight 45 year old executive father of no one, husband of none, hailing from Lincoln Nebraska with a quite sizable SNES cartridge collection. "Give em the cum mouth!" While not exactly being Don Draper, Mitch tends to opt for the "cum mouth" approach on many of his ad campaigns.  The only real reason that Mitch is even employed is due to the impending sexual harassment lawsuit that Mitch has been threatening for years after Penny Lawson CFO walked in on him wiping his ass after he failed to lock the porta john door on the company retreat 3 years ago to Mt. Rushmore. "Get it direct" Mitch screams over his coffee cup, obviously filled with rye, as he bangs his forehead against the conference room table.  Luckily the Japanese investors take this as a sign of autistic genius and decide to go with the campaign. Unbenounced to the members of the meeting, Mitch was actually talking to a schizophrenia induced voice of a shipping clerk, who does not exist, asking Mitch how he wants the new granite in his kitchen purchased. "No middle man" he mumbles, but too low to be audible over the screams of praise from Zymo Research as they had finally found a tagline for their new product.  Worst, Ever!