Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Insert madness

This post brought to you in the most roundabout way by Romancing the Blog (sidebar at left.)

I loathe inserts. LOATHE them. When I pick up a magazine and half its weight is comprised of those nasty little rectangular pieces of joy, I see red. Then I proceed to rip out each and every damn one.
That's been my pet peeve with Harlequin for decades. (Yeah, decades. I was a precocious teen.) Sure, it's great to win a free book or three...but at what price? Everytime I pick up the damn book to read, it flips open to THAT SPOT! Grrrrrrrrrrr

Then others hopped on the bandwagon. Sure. Get right on with that. Put in sixteen ways to become a subscriber or buy the latest doll that supposed to look like a real baby but in actuality scares the hell out of me because she looks like something that could go wrong at a rapid rate of speed. Very, very wrong.

I do NOT want forty-six catalogs sent to my house. My God! Do NOT send a packrat catalogs. I could order stuff from 1982 because I HAVE that issue. (It's a sickness. But I think I have it under control now. heh)
Okay. It's not THAT bad. But honestly, how many trees have to die for an issue of Cosmopolitan? Hundreds? Thousands?
There are saplings shivering in their dirt because they KNOW what fate will befall them. And it ain't pretty.

Put out money for a full page advertisement. Actually pay postage for catalogs that tell us ALL about your merchandise.
But QUIT flippin' sabotaging me and my reading pleasure!!!
And when it's in the middle of a good part?
Oh. My. God.
These "so-called" advertisers need to be shot. How can you read about the goodies when you're interrupted with an ad about something totally off the subject? And then you have to flip back. And then forward. Just to remember who was doing what to whom?
Despicable. Totally reprehensible.

Rant off.


chrystal casey said...

Sadly enough some people actually buy the crap on those inserts - example, the cheesy dolphin decorative plate my sister got me for christmas one year, the faux crystal dolphin I got for my birthday. the 8 inch plastic dolphin that I got for some other holiday from good old sis. How do I tell my sibling (who I love very much) to quit buying me that overpriced dollar store looking crap without hurting her feelings? Unfortunately I haven't figured it out yet. I just know I rip all of those things out before I pass on a magazine to her. Luckily she has a 2 year old and doesn't have much time to sit and read magazines. I may be safe for this Christmas. Maybe I'll tell her I want socks. At least I can do something with them.

chryscat said...

I'm not a knick knack person in the slightest. And the sight of those snowbabies makes me slightly ill. *shuddering*
A few items, tastefully arranged, is a far cry from every resin sculpture under the sun residing in every square inch of my abode.
Yeah. Tell sis you want something to warm those tootsies. Maybe she'll spare you the plastic dolphin balancing a multi-color ball on his nose. *sigh*

Tori Lennox said...

Our twin-ness is rearing its head again!!! Those things drive me INSANE!!!!!! And as my dad says, it's a short drive. *g* I do the same thing. Rip 'em out and toss them. Though I'm starting to consider putting rude messages on the postcards and sending them in since they're postage paid anyway. *g*

Danica/Dream said...

After the deluge of political mail I've gotten this year, I'd welcome some inserts. Wanna trade?

Lyvvie said...

I dump inserts out before buying the magazine, I'm not paying for them too. We have special mail runs by the post office who only drop local business adverts throuigh the door - I hate them. I let the kids rip them, paste with them or do as they please so long as they clean up the mess.

It's the thick card adverts that drive me crazy, like the perfume wrist wipe samples. they make it impossible to flip through a magazine at leisure, the mag just falls to the stinky page everytime and I hate it! I've only ever once bought a perfume because I like its sample in a magazine. It was Donna Karen Cashmere, but really one perfume in my twenty odd years of magazine purchasing history must mean it's not a good marketing strategy.