An Open Letter to Darius Rucker,
AKA "Hootie" from the band "Hootie and the Blowfish"
What happened? One minute you and your band are selling eleventy bazillion CDs. The album was so enormously popular, I remember seeing you on a talk show joking about how the only people left buying your ginormously successful CD were people who had either lost or worn out their first copy.
It's true. I have a second copy because I thought I lost my first. Now I have two.
But that was OK by me, because it was a good CD. Lots of fun, singable songs. Your band was a throwback to classic rock, when rock used such novel musical innovations like a discernible tune and beat. Your band was full of singers who could sing and instrumentalists who could instrumental. You were fun, and good, and WE LOVED YOU.
I bought your second CD too, but I have to admit I cannot name a single song on it. But that's OK, because it was a Hootie CD. They all can't be record breaking releases, right?
But if you think about it, that shouldn't matter. You should have made more than enough money with the first album, leaving you with a sizeable financial cushion in case future projects tanked. There shouldn't be any reason why you should be forced to sing the praises of Burger King. I mean, what in the name of special sauce IS THIS COMMERCIAL? Did you lose a bet? Do you owe back taxes? Are you in trouble with the Blowfish Mafia?
Hootie. I'm not rich. But to make this stop, I'd be willing to spot you a twenty. Maybe even two or three.
I'm at a loss as what exactly is the worst part. Is it the purple cowboy suit with white fringe? Is it the whole horrible ad campaign?
Chicken Breast Trees
Streams of Bacon Ranch Dressing
Cheddar Paved Streets
Tumbleweeds of Bacon
That's the Tendercrisp Chicken Bacon Ranch
Hootie. You just HAD to know this wasn't a good idea.
Bacon is holy and neither tumbles nor weeds.
I think the worst thing is that you are willingly cavorting with that extremely creepy big plastic headed Burger King. Even if you think his food is awesome, this commercial simply is not da bomb. It's A BOMB. I cannot help but cringe each and every time you strum-strum your way through this malodorous commercial mess.
No matter what kind of financial trouble you might be experiencing at the present time, there has to be a better way. Sing on the street corner. Organize a Live Hootie-Aid benefit concert. We'd contribute. Honestly. Just please, I beg you. Step away from the King.