Land of the free, Home of the Weird Crap

There are some things in America that I will just never understand. I was at the gas station the other day and my friend was needed to fill up the air in her tires. That’s all fine and dandy, but on the side of the air thing (generator/compressor, whatever it’s called), it said “Free Air.” FREE Air. FREE. Air that is free. Who would have thought that air was free? All this time I thought we paid bills to breath. And another thing that I don’t understand is why these paper towel companies sissify their commercials. I mean, how am I supposed to know the real world applications of my favorite two-ply absorbant throw-away paper towel and/or toilet paper, when all they show is how well aforementioned paper towel and/or toilet paper sops up some blue liquid? For all I know, this blue liquid is super absorbant and is specially produced for these commercials to trick the public. I want them to do real tests, like when little Johnny vomits on the floor and then accidentally urinates on his vomit. I need to know how well my paper towel will hold up in a situation like this; especially if Equadorian children with weak stomachs and bladders ever rampage my kitchen.