Old Navy ranks highest on my personal scale for having an advertising department led by
monkeyfuckers who give good money to talentless,
washed-up TV stars.
I don't know the name of that woman from the Old Navy commercials with the big glasses (I saw her on VH1 talking about Studio 54), but I DO know that I am considering a dog-a-cide against Magic and Morgan Fairchild.
I sincerely wish for the God that I do not believe in to suddenly become real and punish Old Navy. For their commercials which rot my brain and force my teeth to clench -- Veangeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.
Since I have become so desensitized to violence in TV, I do not think it would be above myself to perform a Riverdance on my coffee table upon hearing Stone Phillips inform America that all of the Old Navy advertising executives, VPs, VIPs and trough of bad actors were suddenly killed by a mountain of shit that was apparently predicated by the appearance of a giant ass in the clouds . . .delivering divine retribution, just for me.