Phillipe & Jorge’s Cool, Cool World

Trillo’s Comedy Campaign

Perhaps the funniest political story of the past few weeks was about independent candidate for Vo Dilun governor, Joe Trillo’s, 65-foot boat, the Lady M, nearly crashing into the beach in Charlestown. Funny, because the boat featured a giant Trillo for Governor banner and was blaring what is described as “patriotic music.”

Does Trillo actually believe this sort of loony display will garner him votes? Your superior correspondents already assume that Trillo has the “old white males perambulating on all-fours” vote wrapped up, so who exactly is he thinking to attract with this show? Bozo-like campaigns like this shouldn’t have a chance with an Ocean State electorate we consider intelligent enough to proudly arrive at the polls on their hind legs.

While there may not be a great deal of enthusiasm for any of the other candidates for governor, the lesser of evils vote is unlikely to go in Trillo’s direction.

So Sue Me!

It’s official. Little Rhody is now The Personal Injury Attorney State. Hold your heads high.

Anyone who watches even an hour of TV has doubtless seen the unrelenting stream of ads for “the law offices of (insert name here)” promising you huge insurance payments for any accident you may have experienced. The big hook is that you don’t pay if they don’t win your case. One thing they never mention is what size cut of your payoff they will take if you win, which is probably in the one-third range.

The Biggest Little has always had its share of what are lovingly referred to as “ambulance chasers.” But the move to mass media — heavy and often — should be credited to Abrams&Verri, and the late Buddy “Vincent A.” Cianci’s old pal, Brian Cunha. Abrams&Verri’s signature was showing them posing in trench coats with what were meant to be intimidating looks, but reminded P&J more of a woman trying to conceal the fact she was pregnant. Cunha’s calling card was, and still is, an embarrassing comb-over.

Four firms have been leading the in-your-face charge these days, and we will take them bottom to top.

Sparks Law’s commercials featuring clients yelling, “Ba-bam!” are beyond obnoxious, and make the clients they use look like morons. Stop it. Stop it now.

Attorney Mike Bottaro’s ad gets a brownie point for his slogan, “It’s good to know Mike Bottaro.” It is obviously meant to ring a bell in Vo Dilun residents’ heads, where “I know a guy” is the state’s motto. Otherwise, it sounds like he’s running for high school class president.

Easily the most annoying — and most plentiful — ads come from ‘The Heavy Hitter,” Rob Levine, whose spots run four times in an hour. Another huge faux pas by Robbie is insisting on dressing up for some of his ads. Unfortunately, Levine as a baseball player wears a batting helmet that looks like someone put a spaghetti pot on his head. And may P&J suggest that many people might not want someone who dresses up like a cowboy handling their claim that could result in a big payoff if their lawyer were to just wear a suit and tie.

Getting back closer to reality, D’Oliveira and Associates look like the only adults in the room. Their message, as delivered by a very, very serious guy, is fairly simple: We’ll win your case, and insurance companies wet their tailored pants when they hear we are representing you, which is what most people want as a bottom line. While the delivery is a bit overwrought, at least you get the impression that their attorney will not be wearing a court jester’s hat while arguing on your behalf, something you may not be able to depend on for the first three firms mentioned.

There should be some sort of law that says you can only run a certain number of (unfailingly bad) ads a day, so the personal injury tribe has to pick and choose their placement. Because if the glut of these idiotic and offensive ads continues, P&J may have to put a bulletproof screen protector on the big TV at Casa Diablo.

What’s in a Name?

There is a fairly new game that is attracting enormous attention, and has become a backyard favorite among kids and serious competitors alike. But Phillipe and Jorge are flabbergasted by its name: Cornhole.

Every time P&J see it mentioned, we simultaneously cringe and laugh. People of certain ages do not hear “cornhole” and think of family fun. Rather, they identify it as a wildly obscene word that could have earned you a slap in the head if you used it in public. Think along the lines of having a fun-for-all-ages game named “Drop the soap in the prison shower.”

We suspect someone would have caught cornhole’s less savory side before jolly newscasters, TV reporters, church festival organizers and community leaders turned it into a better and easier version of horseshoes. So while P&J are flinching every time we hear the name, it brings to mind another example of naiveté. That would be seeing tightly wound GOP conservatives at a national conference during the requisite party boogying their miniscule hearts out to the Village People’s big hit, “YMCA.”  They are doubtless clueless as to first, what the Village People look like in full concert regalia. And second, totally unable to read between the lines of the lyrics, despite having the nudge-nudge, wink-wink tipoff of some bare-chested, oiled-up, good-looking young fellows dressed like an Indian, construction worker, cop, etc. doing the singing. Hey, they’re just normal people like us, and doubtless go to an evangelical church like we do.

“Ooh, look. Sissy and Junior and their friends are cornholing in the backyard. Isn’t that cute?” Shoot us, please.