Vanilla Ice Breaks Science by Becoming More Lame

Like us, you probably have that desktop program that alerts you to the goings-on in the life of Rob Van Winkle, better known as Vanilla Ice.  Yes, Winkle-Twinkle is a helpful little widget, alerting you with sparkles and the sounds of people not being employed any time The Ice Man makes another movie, appears on a reality TV show, attempts to be relevant or tries to defend himself against accusations of stealing from David Bowie.

Imagine our joy at the FunnyCrave offices this morning when the Winkle-Twinkle was all aflutter with action.  You could almost smell the unemployment line it was so frantic.

We quickly investigated and discovered that Mr. Ice has been hard at work in South Africa, selling beers.  Now there’s nothing wrong with South African beer, probably, but there is something wrong with marketing it in some kind of parachute pants and step haircuts time warp.

Hasn’t South Africa had enough issues in its day?  Isn’t there still some fairly pressing concerns in that corner of the globe that don’t need to be compounded by the presence of arguably the worst thing to happen to white people in music since Conway Twitty?  (Ed. Note – Fuck you, Twitty.  We’re on to you.)

Inexplicably more disappointing and sad than seeing Ice in the commercial is that, somehow, the crew managed to find clothes that are even lamer than what he actually wore in his prime.  Perhaps, like wine growing more delicate and delicious with age, so too do fucktarded rapper clothes from the 90’s grow more visually obscene and terrifying as they fester in musty trunks and closets, hidden away from the sun as their spores spread and give rise to new, hideous polyester effluence and sparkly cock drippings.

It’s worth noting that not only is the beer – Castle Light – a light beer, it’s marketing seems to be targeted towards it being “extra cold” which presumably is why Vanilla Ice is in the commercial because that makes all kinds of marketing sense, with the exception that beer is only cold if refrigerated and any other beer in the fridge with it would of course be the same temperature but would not be saddled with the unfortunate problem of summoning an aged 90’s rapper every time you pop one open.  That’s about as appealing as having Robin Williams join you every time you shave your pubes in the shower.