Does the above picture disturb you at all? Maybe not, but there’s something about it that doesn’t add-up to me. Let’s see if I can figure out what it is… Oh yeah, it’s the part where the middle-aged man is holding a naked baby. And you know it can't be HIS baby... they don't even have the same pecs! And this is supposed to make me get an American Express card? You don’t even want to see the other half of this 2-page spread. Let’s just say it involves an un-neutered dog and a pair of fake Oakley sunglasses.

What’s even more disturbing is that this was the second page of this week’s Sports Illustrated. The SECOND PAGE! All I wanted to do was read the “faces in the crowd” and the “go figure” sections (because my attention span doesn’t permit me to read anything over 36 consecutive words) and MAYBE Rick Reilly’s column, but the first thing I see is a naked baby being accosted by a pedophile with chiseled abs and just-for-men colored hair.

This is just sick. I bet daddy didn’t even bother to put sunscreen on his precious little buddy’s pornstar-to-be ass. The tagline for the ad is “My life. My card,” but what it should be is “My life. My card. My 15-year jail sentence.” Sicko.

What is it with marketing and naked babies? Car commercials, sub commercials, other commercials that I don’t even know about, and now American Express advertisements. Not only is this legalized child HBO-level pornography, but it is exploiting a segment of the population that can’t speak for themselves, let alone even speak at all. Do you honestly think that kid got any kind of bank for his parents parading him around in the nude for all to see? I don’t think so. It’s time we fight for infant rights. To the streets!

To do my part, from this day forward I vow to never buy any product that is endorsed by a person who still goes #1 and #2 in their diapers. This includes Wilford Brimley and Barbara Walters. Oh man what a ZING!

When are ad-wizards everywhere going to realize that all you need to sell products are a nice set of hoots and maybe throw in a George Fourman or two. Wait. George Fourman already has a nice set of hoots and is already named George Fourman. No wonder his grills are selling faster than an ounce of Jamal Lewis’ cocaine. Double ZING!

I can see a naked baby plastered on the pages of Sports Illustrated, but I can’t even see Janet Jackson’s right boob or the backside of a not-naked Nicolette Sheridan? Give me a break. The media is so hypocritical. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go pleasure myself to a few Cialis commercials. Later.

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