A few years ago, my father-in-law introduced me to the concept he refers to as the “Hardee’s List.” (No, don’t bother researching the subject via Google or Wikipedia; it’s a notion yet to be disseminated to the masses). Basically, its doctrines for inclusion consist of anything or anyone that has caused significant personal distress by way of perpetually egregious behavior or a single act of unpardonable transgression. As a result, said person or thing becomes boycotted by the offended party and unceremoniously dumped into … the Hardee’s List.

In my father-in-law’s case, the first offender to be placed on his Hardee’s List was, well, Hardee’s. Apparently he had ordered a hot tea for his wife from the drive-through, and then driven off only to realize miles down the road that they had given him nothing more than a Styrofoam cup of hot water. No tea bag. Thus, the Hardee’s List was born.

Since then, many culprits have been awarded this dubious distinction such as Sports Illustrated (for featuring Dennis Rodman’s weird-ass mug on the cover one too many times) and Dell computers.

Now, I can’t say that Hardee’s is on my own personal Hardee’s List, but without a doubt, Hardee’s commercials are. Commercials in general, actually, are leasing a substantial portion of real estate on my Hardee’s List these days. But let’s stick with the aforementioned first. Hardee’s commercials are either prosaic or over-the-top, but the one permeating aspect is their unabashed creep-out factor. Take the latest installment, for example.

You have a guy sitting in a disheveled van, eating what must obviously be a deliciously authentic Hawaiian chicken sandwich while gleefully fondling a hula dancer bobble head doll stuck to his dashboard. Amidst several voracious bites of this new fast-food gem (the sound effects of which always conjure up images of Russian Bolsheviks tromping through Siberian snow—don’t ask me why), he keeps thumping the doll’s head, which obliges the doll to wobble obediently while our “hero” stares at it, smiling like some peeping Tom watching his recently divorced neighbor undress while perched in the highest tree branch from across the street.

Indeed, the mosaic is very reminiscent of that old Bugs Bunny cartoon in which the Abominable Snowman paws an unappreciative Daffy Duck (“I shall love him and squeeze him and call him George!”). I mean, is the intention behind this commercial to inspire people to eat at Hardee’s or to watch To Catch a Predator on MSNBC? Any appetite I may have at any given time for a Hawaiian chicken sandwich with a succulent slice of pineapple is immediately quelled after viewing this commercial.

And then there are those inexplicable Wendy’s ads. Again, one has to wonder about the demographic to which these people are attempting to appeal. Come on! If I need a grown man wearing a bright red Pippy Longstocking wig to convince me I need a double bacon cheeseburger and a baked potato, I might as well allow him to persuade me to step in front of an onrushing locomotive that’s on fire and being pursued by bandits. Look, if I have to perform a séance to resurrect the now spinning-in-his-grave Dave Thomas so he can preclude these commercials from resurfacing on the television waves, I will.

Veering away from fast food for a moment, let’s deconstruct those high-concept Charles Schwab spots, shall we? You know, the ones in which the sequences are shot in live action, but then glossed over to appear animated? To the advertising ladies and/or gents responsible for this campaign, I pose this one question: Why?! OK, I get it. You went out and rented Waking Life and A Scanner Darkly and were inspired by their surrealistic points of view. But guess what: For a movie in which a whacked-out-of-his-gourd addict has a hallucination of his buddy morphing into a giant cockroach, that stylistic approach is pretty cool. For a commercial about financial advisors, it’s just pretty weird, not to mention superfluous. Is the whole idea centered on the premise that these people are real, but not really real, because their brokers don’t treat them as such? Fine. If that’s the case, why not go whole hog and have the ads feature Googy or SpongeBob or Speedy Gonzales? Let Deputy Dawg complain to me that his broker doesn’t take him seriously while he nonchalantly pays for his latte at Starbucks. That’ll get my attention.

And don’t even get me started on commercials by Domino’s (Get the door, it’s Domino’s? More like—slam the door, it’s some jackass with an Oreo beard), Alltel, and Americans for the Arts… (I advocate the arts as much as anyone, but that little Elliot Gould mini-me with his monotone Stepford Wife cataloging of his day at school makes me want to eat rocks.)

Do you want to know what makes for a successful, effective commercial? Monkeys. No matter how many commercials employ this gimmick, monkeys will never find their way on my Hardee’s List.

Todd Guill resides in Christiansburg, works in Roanoke, and dreams of leading the Jupiter colonization effort. He has written for Brick Weekly (Richmond) and The Winchester (Va.) Star.