Friday, January 9, 2015

I need insurance because I wear heels


When I turned on Spotify today to listen to John Mayer and Hilary Duff, I never suspected I'd be treated to a commercial that would so wonderfully get to the root of the lady experience, but Anthem Insurance gets it. 

In 30 seconds, they were able to perfectly encompass why a woman would want medical coverage: Because stilettos are dangerous. No shit they are. I've face-planted in enough to know that. So thanks, Anthem, for being there. 

And also, thanks in advance for having my back for these other lady emergencies I'm pretty positive I'll have one day. 

--When my underwire bra that's too tight eventually forces all the breath from my body and I pass out and hit my head on the Starbucks counter while purchasing a pumpkin spice latte. (My boobs will look good while it happens so fingers crossed that I get a date out of it.)

--When the chocolate I just shoved in my mouth while watching The Notebook for the 500th time mixes with the downpour of tears coming down my face, creating a dangerous shame cocktail that requires emergency medical assistance. 

--When I'm still crying over The Notebook in my shower and I cut myself shaving. There will be a lot of blood because nothing bleeds like a tiny nick on your ankle and it won't actually require stitches but I mean, oh my god blood. So gross!

--When the Nair cream I put on my upper lip has a really bad reaction one day and I'll need to go to the dermatologist because my dumb face will be totally unsightly if I don't get another cream to fix the cream that fucked up my face. 

--When my cat scratches my eyes out after I hug her too hard to fill the void created from years of existing while not being married. 

--When the gel manicures I insist on giving myself eventually make my fingers wither and fall off and I'll need insurance to get replacement fingers. 

--When the false eyelashes I sometimes wear to trick guys into thinking I'm pretty get lost in my eyeballs and require surgery to extract. 

--When I catch my man cheating, and I injure myself with the scissors I'm using to fuck up all of his shirts. 

--When I burn myself setting fire to his house.

He'll be gone, but hey, at least, I'll have Anthem. 

13 comments:

  1. Hahahahaha. Your lists are my favorite.

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  2. Hahahha this is seriously hilarious!

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  3. Thank goodness for Anthem Insurance!

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  4. Your posts always make me laugh. Love it.

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  5. Hahaha I just read this post! I hate dumbass advertisements like that. But if you're reading this, Anthem, please don't get mad and kick me off of your insurance because I love you and I need you, especially for all my stiletto-related injuries!!

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