Foamy can't stand people who talk about his or her calling plan, ringtones, people who forget where his or her car is, or people who think "Certified Pre-Owned" is superior to "used".
"Cell Phones And Car Ads" - Copyright Jonathan Ian Mathers 2002-2008. You are viewing this movie courtesy of The Friends of Foamy!
{The view shows a grassy field and clear skies. Foamy appears.}
Foamy: People who tell you about their cell phone plans are really pissing me off. You know, when they whip out their phone {holds up cell phone, drops} and start gabbing. As soon as they hang up, they start telling you all about how great their fucking cell phone plan is. No one cares. But wait. {in mockery} I get free nights, free weekends, free in-plan calling, free family plan, free text messaging, and free picture messaging. {in normal voice} Well then, if all this shit is free, why are you paying seventy dollars a month for it? And I'm, personally, sick and tired of these idiotic commercials for ringtones. Every fucking jackoff half-musician is turning their already vile music into fucking ringtones. Your music sucks enough as it is. Turning it into an 8 bit audio file that sounds like it came from a video game system from the 1980s is not going to enhance the quality of it. And that's another thing. I miss the good, old-fashioned phone ring. {imitates phone ringing} What the fuck happened to this? Now all you get is some poor quality rendition of Mozart's "Requiem" blasting out of some kid's cell phone. {sarcastically} Yes. Mozart would be proud to know that some of his greatest works are now so unappriciated that they are used merely as a ringtone to let people know that someone is on the other line. Wonderful. {in normal voice} You know what? If I made Foamy ringtones, it would sound somehting like this. Hey. Follow the sound of my voice and kill whoever is holding the phone. I bet the owner of that phone wouldn't let it go past the first ring. On another topic, people who lose their car in the parking lot. {in mockery} Hm. I don't know. Let's see. Where did I park? {sarcastically} Well gee, I mean, it's only a twenty thousand dollar piece of machinery that you're still making payments on. Why on Earth would you want to remember where you left it? {in normal voice} Seriously! And another thing about cars. "Certified Pre-Owned". When the hell did used cars become "Certified Pre-Owned"? Huh? That's fucking bullshit. It's just a way to get you to pay more money. People used to be like, {imitating} I'm not gonna pay six thousand dollars for that car. It's fucking used! {in normal voice} Now because they've been manipulated by marketing wordplay, they're like, {in mockery} I only paid six thousand dollars for a certified pre-owned vehicle. {in normal voice} Great. "Certified Pre-Owned". Now you have documentation stating that this car officially had the shit beaten out of it by its previous owner. That's like getting married to someone who already had a divorce. {in mockery} Well, she's not divorced. She's certified pre-fucked. Yes, she was married, but not anymore. Her divorce papers clearly certify that she was fucked by another man prior to me fucking her. {in normal voice} So keep that white dress at home on the wedding day, ladies. It's meaningless. {off screen} I'm done. Damnit.
