I’m not sure how widespread these commercials are but RoadRunner (a broadband internet carrier) has this line of ads where they present someone who does something really fast … a River Dance dude who taps 20 times a second (or something), or a rollerblader who skates 60 miles an hour, etc.
In most of these examples, while I don’t exactly find the presented performer my cup o’ camomille (you’ll find me at Michael Flatley’s funeral wearing a clown suit before you find me watching RiverDance), I understand the entertainment value thereof.
But … Bobby Badfingers. The guy snaps his fingers really fast. He snaps his fingers. His fingers. He snaps them. Apparently his act consists of him and I suppose you would call it a backing band, on a stage. I have no idea what kind of “songs” he may present with his quickly snapping fingers.
I can see it now …
Snappity-snappity-snap-snap-snappity-snap-snappity-snappity-snappity-snap-snappity-snap-snap-snap.
"Thank you, that was “Love Grows Where My Rosemarey Goes” by Edison Lighthouse. And now I’d like to present my version of Bach’s “Fugue in D Minor” …
Snappity-snappity-snap-snap-snappity-snap-snappity-snappity-snappity-snap-snappity-snap-snap-snap.
Now I know that in Vegas you can find just about any form of entertainment anybody has ever thought of, including (quite probably) The Museum Of Things You Can’t See Without An Electron Microscope and genuine Tijuana Donkey Shows … but really … people actually pay money to see this fruitcake snap his fucking fingers?
I’m moving to vegas to present my Amazing Nose-Picking Act. I’ll bill myself as Jack BigNostrils Batty. I’ll make a friggin’ mint!