There are a lot of annoying commercials on TV, and if you didn’t already know that then I would like congratulate you on being the least perceptive person on the planet. It is impossible to turn on the TV anymore without having a duck and a lizard vie for your affection in an attempt to sell you insurance.

But there is one series of commercials currently running on television that somehow manages to be more idiotic than the rest of the slop that interrupts America’s hottest new reality shows and “Three’s Company” reruns, — the commercials for the Jamster cell phone “happy plan.”

For some reason every single person I complain to about this claims to be ignorant about these commercials. “Jamster? What’s that?” they all ask as I fly into a blinding rage about how it’s impossible to not know what Jamster is if you’ve watched television even once in the past two months, as literally two-thirds of all commercials I have seen in that time have been for Jamster.

But apparently the reason people don’t know what I’m talking about is that nobody else pays enough attention to these commercials to know that the name of the service is Jamster.

Most people like to tune out commercials, change the channel, go dominate the bathroom or something else more interesting and entertaining than actually watch commercials. I, on the other hand, pay plenty of attention to these commercials because whenever they come on I start pounding my hands on the TV screen and sobbing.

You tend to notice the “Jamster!” logo when it is being reflected in all your tears, you know.

But as soon as I explain to people what Jamster is, I always get the same response: “Oh yeah, those commercials. Yeah, I hate those.”

These are the commercials for cell phone ring tones, wallpapers, games and screensavers that you can buy right off of the moving-picture box by sending a text message to the number provided.

But these aren’t ring tones or wallpapers that anybody whose IQ surpasses their age could appreciate. These are all idiot stereotypes. All the Jamster products that are original ideas somehow manage to be more asinine than the idiot stereotypes which comprise most of Jamster’s stock, like a cellphone wallpaper of one of those hubcaps that spin independently of the car it’s attached to.

If you’ve never seen a Jamster commercial, and oh how I envy you, then here is an example of how witty and relevant Jamster’s products are: ring tones and screensavers and crap that you can buy from Jamster are about as clever as saying “riiiiiight” as a witty retort.

Garbage from Jamster is about as humorous as getting hit in the face with a boxing glove attached to a large spring. Not watching that happen to somebody else though, because that would be pretty hilarious, but as funny as having it happen to you, and that wouldn’t be funny at all, just confusing.

Now, I’m not complaining about the needless crap for cell phones. Cell phones are so abundant now that I don’t think I’d be going out on a limb to say that literacy isn’t a necessary prerequisite for getting a cell phone, and idiots need idiotic things to put on their cell phones.

If you want to have your cell phone tell you “WEST COAST” every time you turn it on, or scream “BLING BLING” whenever somebody calls you, then more power to you. But I wish there weren’t commercials like this to remind me that people like you exist. No offense.

What pisses me off about these Jamster commercials is that it should be more than enough to appease the idiots to confine ads for cell phone ring tones to Internet pop-up ads and spam. This is because I can at least ignore spam easier, as it takes significantly less time to click “delete” then it does to sit through a Jamster commercial.

I feel the same way about commercials for erectile dysfunction medications.

As if there weren’t enough reasons to dislike Jamster, one of their funderful commercials features Sir Mix-a-lot’s magnum opus “Baby Got Back” reconfigured as a song suitable as a cell phone ringtone. Which means the song was changed from “I like big butts and I cannot lie,” to something like, “I like getting cell phone calls and I cannot lie,” or what-the-hell-ever.

If you ask me, I’d rather have the original version of that song on my phone. But that’s fine. What’s really stupid is there is a separate Jamster commercial that advertises Sir Mix-a-lot wallpapers for your cellphone.

Now forget the fact that it wouldn’t be possible to pick Sir Mix-a-lot out of a police line-up of midget street performers. If you pay to have a picture of the rapper responsible for the delightful ditties “Buttermilk Biscuits (Keep On Square Dancin’)” and “Put ‘Em on the Glass” on your phone, then you are one creepy bastard.

But easily the worst thing about Jamster, worse than a wallpaper with a gold tooth or ringtone that proclaims the phone’s owner to be a princess or anything involving Sir Mix-a-lot, is the fact that in the commercial’s fine print (itself a mind-boggling concept) you will see that it costs $1.99 a week to download up to three pieces of crap from Jamster.

I understand that we live in a capitalist society, and goods and services must be exchanged for legal tender (I don’t think a crappy ringtone qualifies as a good or a service, but whatever). But there are places on the Internet where you can download ring tones, of real songs, which don’t suck, for free.

And if you have a rudimentary understanding of MS Paint, not even necessarily Photoshop, you can make your own cell phone wallpaper that is of at least equal quality to a picture of a dolphin in a glass ball or Sir Mix-a-lot flashing generic gang signs.

The fact that somewhere, somehow there is somebody actually paying for this service is entirely unacceptable. If I ever heard somebody’s cell phone ring and it had a ringtone from one of these Jamster commercials, I would punch them as hard as I could in the side of the head. I wouldn’t even think about it; it would just be a reflex. Which means it wouldn’t be my fault.

Which means don’t sign up to pay two bucks a week to download asinine cell phone ring tones, otherwise you’ll be suing Jamster’s parent company for making me deck you in the face. I’m just saying, is all.