Do you ever talk to commercials? I do. When this occurs, the cat is probably thinking, “Who the hell is he talking to?”

One such commercial plays on the radio during Phillies games. Yes, I am like an old man in that I listen to Phillies games. No, wiseass, I do not use a transistor radio.

The ad is about the legal troubles one might find themself in if they were to commit insurance fraud. Husband boasts to Wife about how he lied to their insurance company when he reported a mishap with the family car. At the end of the commercial, there’s a knock, and Husband says, “Honey, there’s a detective here, and he wants to talk to us.”

Inevitably, I blurt out, “Tell the detective to get off your property. Call an attorney! Tell the police that you have nothing to say without an attorney at your side!!”

I know—once a criminal defense attorney, always a criminal defense attorney. Yeah, that, or I still believe in taking advantage of the protections established by the Fifth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution (until Justices Gorsuch and Thomas disembowel it).

Other commercials do not compel a vocal reaction, but my visceral response is undeniable. I despise all PA Lottery ads with Gus the Groundhog. I’d like to see good ol’ Gus get eaten by a fucking grizzly bear.

The recent Taco Bell commercial for Grande Nachos stuck in my craw. The advertisement ran a lot during this year’s NBA Finals. Every time I watched the ad, I thought, “Yup, this is exactly what fat America needs—an oversized portion of chips with cheese and sour cream, washed down with a Mountain freaking Dew.” Conveniently, a commercial for blood pressure medicine or Life Alert followed.

Dear America, put down the supersized portion of nacho chips and Cheez Whiz. Mix in a salad and a walk around the block.