Natural Selection Is Working Just Fine. Stop Screwing With It, Glomobi!

So I was watching television the other day and saw an ad for a Glomobi service. Glomobi, for the uninitiated, offer a range of services for cellular phone users all over the place. Text message the word "JOKE" to blah, blah, blah, blah and you'll have trouble not crapping your pants from getting the funniest jokes in the world sent directly to your cell phone! You know the kind of service I'm talking about. Or you'll get asked a suspiciously easy trivia question for which you have to text a multiple choice answer to a number and you'll win a ba-jillion dollars in cold, hard cash (that's probably even a direct quote from one of their ads). Am I an annoying fuckwit wasting your valuable time with painfully obvious questions? Text A for Yes or text B for No to 55555 and you might win 14 zillion ba-jillion buck-a-roos in solid gold coins!

Anyway, now I'm rambling...

So, there I am watching television and this Glomobi ad comes on telling me to text the word DOUCHEBAG to some number and I would, in turn, be sent the latest and greatest pick-up lines to wow the ladies with. Was I sick of being a dweeb sitting around in Bullwinkle boxer shorts and masturbating to Girls Gone Wild infomercials? Was I ready to (gulp!) approach a living breathing girl with actual breasts and naughty bits armed with pick-up lines that will leave her practically ripping her clothes off before I could finish saying my first sentence? Damn straight I was!

If I could rewrite the alphabet I would put U and I beside each other.

Girl, your feet must be tired because you've been running through my mind all day long.

So just text DOUCHEBAG to some weird phone number that has no area code and make sure you pack lots of condoms!

Alright, that's probably not verbatim how the ad went, but it's pretty close.

The point isn't the commercial itself, though.

So what's the point?

Well, in the natural world we have this thing called natural selection. The best traits you have get carried on and augmented further in the next generation when you reproduce and the worst qualities get weeded out slowly the same way. Darwin came up with this theory and it's worked rather well. So now all those dweeb who sit around in their Bullwinkle boxer shorts and set their VCR's to record Girls Gone Wild infomercials (why do we need so many Girls Gone Wild infomercials anyway? Another topic for a blog, perhaps?) are going out and getting laid, and, probably, reproducing.

This is not a good thing.

The whole notion of the species adapting for survivability is being fucked up by guys who text Glomobi and get the latest and greatest pick-up lines to totally score on unsuspecting women with.

I'm new in town. Could you give me directions to your apartment?

Aren't we supposed to keep these idiots from reproducing? The last thing we need is a new generation with the social grace of wet potato sacks.

And women: why do you go to bed with anybody who uses these lines? And don't say that women don't go to bed with these guys because somebody has to be going to bed with them. If they weren't successful using these lines there would be no return customers to the Glomobi service.

These guys walk up to you, cell phone clutched in their meaty paws and they say, "Hold on a sec." Then they text DOUCHEBAG to 55555, get their opening line sent to them and use it on you. And you sleep with them!

Meanwhile, guys who don't use their cell-phone as a crutch for coming up with conversation openers fall by the wayside in favor of these dorks!

It's enough to force a guy to never leave his house and never change his Bullwinkle boxer shorts.