(another genius contribution from @Freakarms)
Dear Capri Sun,
Science discovers outer space and invents robots. Magic is a thing. Yet, your Kangaroo juice pouch still has a shitty straw hole. How many times do I have to end lunch with a punctured juice sack and strawberry-kiwi scented nipple stains before this travesty comes to an end?
Look, I’ve never written a letter before. Honestly, I’ve never cared about anything enough to write a letter. But this is different. This is actually important. How many times do we as Americans have to suffer through the injustice of poking our straws all the way through your sack? We don’t want a Capri Sun shower. We have a Constitution that protects us from stuff like that.
I really don’t want to quit on you. Capri Sun has been with me through a lot of really memorable moments in my life. My first high school lunch, the first time I watched Power Rangers. Capri Sun is even what my friend Anthony and I were drinking when that porn with the guy who tried to oops his own uh-oh came on. Fucking memories, man. Your juice belongs in my mouth!
Capri Sun has always been the cool juice box and that’s why I’m hoping we can still hang out. Capri Sun is what my cousin who smoked cigarettes in second grade drank with his lunch everyday. I’ll bet astronauts and A.C. Slater drink it too. Trust me, I’m not asking for a huge box. We love your shiny sack of Space Age juice! But isn’t there something you can do about your hole?
How do I expect you to fix your hole? Maybe some kind of, like, cool ramp that has rainbows on it and stuff? That would probably work. But I’m no scientist. I’m just an average guy, drinking your juice in my underwear and watching Thundercats DVDs. And I want it to stay that way.
Some commercials create a jingle to help sell their product. Rarely does a commercial create a generation-defining anthem that changes music as we know it.
Take a guy singing the catchiest melody of all time in my first-thing-in-the-morning voice. Throw it over a sexual synthy bass and some other musicy shit and we’re ready for Jazzercise class. If you aren’t singing this song to yourself as you bathe your children and do your taxes, you’re probably one of those lame shitheads that “don’t listen to music.”
But it’s not just the music. This commercial has it all. Great product shots, men in bracelets, romance. A few of these scenes deserve a special look.
NBC’s The Voice is all like “he’s the man,” and the man is all like “I’m wearing bracelets!” But then the arrow was all like “this is cuter than puppies!”
You’re right, jugs would have been too much. Now let me slide all up on you as we reenact a tender real life moment over a couple bottles of wine. Mmmm my precious Chardonnay.
YOU’RE GONNA BUY YOUR FUCKIN LIQUOR AT ON THE ROX! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? NEITHER OF YOU LOOK AT ME! THERE’S NOTHING EVEN IN THAT BAG! FUCK!
Hopefully, if you’re musically inclined like Mozart and a couple of the Village People, you sang every word of this to the tune of the On the Rox jingle. If you plan on buying liquor again, I’ll see you at On the Rox.