Billy Mays, king of the pitchmen, master of the spoken word, emperor of the holy TV turd, is dead. He is the one true celebrity big loss this weekend; a man on his prime leaves us, when he was doing his best work.
Billy Mays was awesome. He is the only human being that is allowed to speak in Caps Lock ALL THE TIME EVEN WHEN HE IS ORDERING FOOD AND/OR HAVING SEX WITH HIS WIFE:
Actually, the though of Billy Mays having sex with his wife while selling HIS BIG UNIQUE DICK AND WAIT THERE IS MORE in Billy-Mays-speak is highly disturbing, and I wish I hadn´t put it in your brain. Sorry.
I just did.
Jokes aside, Mays was actually a really impressive individual. He started pitching junk in Atlantic City, and impressed the owner of a little known cleaning product (OxiClean) enough that he decided to put him on TV. He made the brand, and it hasn´t been the only thing he build from the ground.
I really don´t know how he did it (I think his voice is hypnotic, in a bizarro, I am blasting you with the sonic equivalent of a ton of bricks kind of way), but he did sell his stuff. Death of salesman indeed.
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