XXX's & OOO's

There is a movement on the East coast sponsored by the simplistic RARA's to punish Nivea for a clever advertising campaign they initiated on Valentine's Day. As usual, the Anti-Equestrian Eco-Terrorists have gathered their pitchforks & torches, twisted their undies into an unpleasant and chafing bunch and are trying to hit a company that produces a legal product advertised in conjunction with another legal business. So, you know, the same old tired crapola.

You know what would be great? If the RARA's would go and help horses that actually needed it instead of ours that don't warrant any of their unwanted "attention."

Well, two can play at that game. The RARA's have started an emailing movement, sending vapid letters to management listing their concerns about the "exploited, dispirited creatures." So, if you feel that giving an animal a job is not cruel or abusive, may I suggest that in a show of solidarity you do the following:

Send these people an email showing your approval for their ad campaign and the horse drawn carriage industry. Tell them that you support free enterprise, and you will buy their skin care products.

Nivea Executives, Beiersdorf, Inc.

Iain Holding-President iholding@bdfusa.com

Kathy Shea – COO kshea@bdfusa.com

Gary Sharpe – CFO gsharpe@bdfusa.com

Thomas Bellina - Treasurer tbellina@bdfusa.com

Leslie Kickham – Nivea promotion lkickham@bdfusa.com

PMK-BNC, Public Relations firm

Maggie Katz maggie.kaatz@pmkbnc.com
Christina Stejskal, christina.stejskal@pmkbnc.com



May I suggest you cut and paste something along the lines of the following into the body of the email:

Dear Person Who Works For A Company That Didn't Do Anything Wrong But Is Being Persecuted By A Group Of Self Righteous Morons Who Have No Idea What They Are Talking About,

You go, girl! (or guy; change the designation according to who you are sending this to. If their name is Pat, Chris, or Sal, consider using "Person" or "Citizen" so as not to offend.) Thank you for utilizing the New York carriage horses in your campaign. Not only does it show the world these productive, healthy and well cared for animals, but it also displays your superior taste and above average intelligence.

To show support for your fabulous advertising initiative, the next time I am at a store that sells your product I'm going to buy a butt-load of it. Really. Because I have dry skin. And when I say "Dry Skin" I mean that Armadillos and Gila monsters mock me because their hides are luxurious and glowing compared to mine.

Anyway, your ad caught my eye and fueled my imagination. Not only that, but the next time I pass a horse drawn carriage I think I'm going to take a carriage ride. And tip the driver. Big.

My skin thanks you for producing a superior product. And the carriage horses thank you because they have jobs, which apparently the RARA's don't have, which explains all the free time they have which they use to instigate imbecilic letter writing campaigns instead of, you know, looking for a job.

Sincerely,

Then, you know, add your name. And feel free to change the above text so it doesn't sound quite so eclectic. Or frightening.

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Don't forget! The Winner! Winner! Chicken Dinner! Contest is still active~ make sure to get your entries in. Intrigued? Go here to find out more…

Home On The Range

For any of you who are interested in learning about or adopting one of the BLM's wild mustangs that roam Utah, our own barn fix it/clean it/drive it guy, Cliff, is featured in the Sunday Money section of todays Salt Lake Tribune.

Go here to read the article and see pictures of Cliff naked.

I'm just kidding. I wouldn't do that to you. Striking you blind would make it difficult for you to ever come back and read the Slave Driver blog again.

Use it or Lose it

Tomorrow is Election Day here in Utah, as it is all over the United States, and since I don’t consider the state I live in to be a part of America most of the time, it’s nice to feel solidarity with the good ol’ USA once in a while.

I registered to vote when I was 16, and the state of Illinois gave me a Voter’s registration card. Once again, a case of me not reading the instructions… But it was Chicago, after all, and there everyone votes at least once, sometimes more, even the dead. So, did I fraudulently go to the polls when I was 16? No. I figured I’d have enough time to rack up felonies later in life, so I actually waited until I was 18 and legal.

Although he was eligible to vote in 1978, The Husband cast a ballot for his first time in the election of 1992. He returned on a stormy evening from out of state in time to vote before the polls closed. The next morning he drove me to work, totaled my car on the way back from the grocery store, went to the ER, where I picked him up and three hours later we drove straight through from Chicago to Fort Worth, Texas, to compete in the Appaloosa Club World Championships. Ah, good times…

He’s been voting ever since.

My father never voted. Not once. * Sigh * He figured that if he didn’t register he would never be called to jury duty. To me that is a lame-ass excuse. You can always get out of jury duty by standing up during Voir Dire and singing “Alice’s Restaurant”; at least that’s my plan. MBA got out of it by telling the attorneys that she was a carriage driver. That will be my backup. Unless, of course, I really need the $18.00 a day. One never knows.

Besides, I like to bitch a lot, and if you don’t go out and vote (which I already did last Thursday) then you don’t get to bitch. Those are the rules, plain and simple. So, are you ready to hold your tongue for the next four years? If not then tomorrow is “Put-up or Shut-up” day.

Go vote. I have a roll of duct tape over here, and if I hear you bitching next week and you don’t have a little “I Voted” sticker…