Smug Strings

This advert has something it wants to share with you all:



Christ, negative campaigning's moved from politics to advertising. It's spreading like cancer. Next we'll have books with little sound chips in so that when you walk into Waterstones you'll be subjected to a cacophony of little synthetic voices smugly informing you that their book's better than the other's because it's got a longer word-count and it's part of Richard and Judy's Book Club.

It's not just the message of the advert that irritates me, it's the method it's transmitted as well - through hundreds and hundreds of miles of string, carefully laid across the entire country. Think about it - imagine how horrible that imaginary world must be if it's full of people willing to go to such a ridiculous effort purely so that can listen to some smug bitch ramble on at them about how one brand of fromage frais is better than the other. Ugh.

And another thing - why is it only mothers who are being told about this? What about dads? What about people from unconventional family units? This advert discriminates against more than just artificial ingredients. If I were a gay man made from fructose I'd be outraged.

Normal Service Is Resumed

My posting's been pretty irregular for a while now, largely because I've been busy preparing for exams. But my exams have finished today, so hopefully I'll be able to post with something approaching regularity now.

There is one thing relating to my exams I'd like to bring up though. Remember this post, where I laid into an advert for Kelloggs Nutri-Grain bars? Well I actually bought a multipack, intending to eat a couple before each of my exams in lieu of a proper breakfast. Anyway, the morning of my first exam I ate two bars and then went in to my exam. As the morning progressed I started to feel slightly ill and it was obviously because of the Nutri-Grain bars. As opposed to curing my twatting 'cakey pangs', they gave me cakey nausea! Suffice to say I have not eaten any further Nutri-Grain bars, nor will I ever do again. Shame on you Kelloggs.

Bakey Bollocks

Swing and a miss for Kelloggs with their advert for Nutri-Grain bars:

So I'm supposed to buy products from people who potentially put members of the public at risk of very serious harm by pretending to be doctors and, in most cases, misdiagnosing them with fucking 'cakey pangs'? Are you being serious Kelloggs? Hmmm?

And what is he going to with that oven glove? Shove it up his arse? Ugh.

Misogynistic Shite

Unsurprisingly I am not impressed by the latest advert for Coke Zero:



That ex - what a bitch, eh? How dare she move on with her life?! Why, she should spend the rest of her life alone, like some sort of faithful widow! After all if she doesn't want to be in a relationship with 'Our Hero' (as the somewhat presumptuous caption labels him) she deserves solitude!

Ugh... what a crock of neanderthal shite.

I'm waiting for the Coke Zero advert where a man callously hurls his wife down the stairs in a fit of frenzied misogynistic rage. I doubt I'll have to wait long.

I don't know what I hate more about these adverts, their swaggering lad-ish disregard for women or the fact that they seem to turn me into some sort of bizarre raving feminist. Ugh.

Kick In The Face

My most hated advert at the moment is the one for Wrigley Airwaves. Y'know the one, a bunch of people are psyching themselves up, chanting some uplifting aspirational bollocks and then your jaw drops as it ends and you discover all this is somehow about chewing gum, chewing gum, for fuck's sake. "Experience the kick", the slogan says. It's just chewing gum! Chewing gum some with a bit of eucalyptus and menthol stuff in it!

I looked for a video of the ad online but, oddly, couldn't find anything. All I could find was an article on talkingretail.com about the advert which pissed me off even more - link. According to Wrigley, the "energetic ad features people in various situations psyching themselves up in readiness for a revitalising ‘kick’ from Wrigley’s Airwaves". Who the fuck needs to psych themselves up in order to have some chewing gum? I intended that to be a rhetorical question, but fuck it, I'll answer it anyway: fucking mentalists psych themselves up before chewing gum. It's just fucking chewing gum! Jesus.

There's more though:

Combining dynamism and engagement, the campaign aims to further strengthen the overall Airwaves brand popularity with consumers, which will in turn support retailers’ sales. Our advice to retailers would be to keep fully stocked to take advantage of the profit potential.

Quickly retailers! Get some Airwaves in stock now, or you'll be fucked! You're dealing with 'dynamism' and 'engagement' here. You don't piss around when those concepts are on the table. Just think: run out of stock and those dynamic customers'll be going to other stores to get their gum: they'll be taking it from another store's rack, handing over the money at another store's counter, spending several minutes psyching themselves up in another store, scaring away customer with their demented aspirational ranting at another store, getting shouted at and told to leave by the staff of another store... Actually, you know what? You're probably fine. Leave the 'dynamism' and 'engagement' to other people. People who enjoy selling chewing gum to the mentally challenged.

More Amanda Platell

I'm back at home for the Easter holiday, which means I'm stuck with the Daily Mail for five weeks. Anyway, today Amanda's sticking up for Delia Smith:

BBC chef Simon Rimmer attacks Delia Smith for using frozen mash potato in her quick shepherd's pie.

"It's the easiest thing in the world," he says, "just boil the spuds, drain them and mash with butter."

Yes, Simon, and who buys the spuds and lugs them home in the first place and who peels them?

[continues...]

I don't know Amanda, but given that he's the professional cook in the household I imagine it might be him. After all, if he let his wife go out to get the potatoes for the mash she'd probably end up buying ones meant for chipping, the daft cow. Women, eh?

Oh, and Amanda? Most people don't 'lug' their potatoes home, they put them in the sodding car and drive them back, you pillock. Have you spent your whole life dragging sacks of potatoes down the street Amanda? Have you? Do you arrive back at the house at 8PM, exhausted, your irate husband waiting for his tea? Does he get angry, Amanda? Does he beat you? Yes? Good. All is well.

Okey-cokey

Diet Coke lift advert:



I don't understand. At the end, why does he look like he's been done up the arse?

Burger Bother

The packaging for my Birdseye beef burgers helpfully suggest that I "BBQ [them] from frozen".

Well I say helpful... it's the middle of December. So not very helpful at all then. The stupid twats.

Coke FUCKING Zero

If there's one series of adverts that I absolutely, utterly despise then it's this one:



That's right, it's the adverts for fucking Coke Zero. Where do I even begin?

The whole thing seems to bring up memories of 1930s/1940s fascism (not that I was alive then, but, y'know collective memories). What's going on with the main guy, who's like a cross between a blackshirt and an Ayran wet dream? What's going on with the first guy he meets up with, who bears a passing resemblance to Adolf Hilter? The crowds and the big banner at the end look like some kind of Nazi rally. It's fucking weird.

And it's not just the appearance of these sub-normal looking freaks that bothers me, it's what they're saying as well. I swear the marking people who created this went "what demographic are we aiming at?", and came up with "Daily Mail readers". Ugh. Why are all of their problems so irritatingly tedious and trivial? "[What about] workmates - without the work!" cries one. Yes, that'll work in our consumer capitalist society you absolute fucking moron! I mean seriously, does that guy have shit for brains?! Work isn't great, but it's better than the alternative - living in a cold damp cave, smeared in your own shit, finding food and then beating it to death with a big stick, all because society basically doesn't exist. Stupid twat.

And if they aren't bitching about work then they're bitching about women, in a desperately misogynistic fashion. "Girlfriends - without five year plan", "bras - without the fumbling"... I bet the writers were longing to include something like "women - without the ability to say 'no'" or some such bollocks. I mean let's be honest, most of the men on that advert looked and sounded as though their interactions with women exclusively revolved around: 1) looking at a screen, 2) frantic masturbation, and 3) dying inside, bit by bit.

But it doesn't end there, they did follow-up adverts as well (the fucks). Here's one of them: link. It honestly makes me despair to think that a young man would actually give so much of a shit about someone playing 'somewhat loud' music in their 'car'. Twat. I occasionally have nightmares where that guy goes "what if all good things could come without the downsides? Like this country - without the black people!" Well, I don't really, but if I did then that'd be the kind of bollocks he'd be coming up with. The knob.

But, sadly, the ordeal still isn't over. They did more adverts with fucking Wayne Rooney. Witness. Mind you, I'd quite like to see spiky metal balls become a part of football. I'm sure there's a joke about footballers' sexual shenanigans there, but I can't be bothered to make it.

So there you go, pretty much the worst advertising campaign ever. At least unless they start trying to flog Fanta with images of starving African children with AIDS being decapitated by piano wire. The bastards.

Cast your vote!

Vote for PASTA, you mindless consumer drones. Watch.

What next, David Cameron appearing in an advert for big bags of heroin?

[Insert another bakery-related title here]

It turns out that Mr. Kipling, popular fictional cake-making man, doesn't just make exceedingly good cakes but also tells exceedingly good lies as well. Look at this blurb for his Mini Battenburgs:

'It was while playing chequers that the idea came to me to create a Battenberg. “A square sponge will never work”, my opponent said to me. Undeterred, I added some apricot jam and wrapped in an almond flavoured paste and sugar dusted coating to finish. The rest, as they say, is history.'

Basically Mr. Kipling attempts to gain credit for the creation of the Battenburg, conveniently switching a 'the' for an 'a' in the first sentence to avoid a lawsuit, hoping that the idiot masses, desperately in need a cakey fix, with overlook this minor point. The deceitful swine.

If Mr. Kipling is willing to stoop to this level, what next? Will we be seeing this on the back of a box of these in the future?:

'One day I baked a batch of my delicious iced fancies but suddenly realised that I didn't have a name for them. I asked one of my many friends for advice. "Why don't you name them after a country?" he said. This seemed like a good idea, but none of the names seemed to fit. 'German Fancies' or 'Russian Fancies' didn't seem to fit the bill. Then I was stuck by a sudden inspiration. If I were to found a country called 'France' I would be able to call them 'French Fancies'. So I did. The rest, as they say, is history.'

The guy has no morality whatsoever, although that isn't surprising, what with him not existing and all.

One last thing. Trawling the Mr. Kipling website, I found this comment about his Choc Chip Cake Bars: "I always find that with 5 in a pack there's never quite enough to last the week". I've found that out as well. Seeing as we're all apparently aware of this shortcoming, Mr. Kipling, why not put more in the fucking pack! You fictional bastard.

Mars, lights, blah blah blah...

I honestly can't think of titles for these posts anymore. It's destroying me (though not literally - that would just be bizarre).

Anyway, that's besides the point. The point resides within this link here: click and watch.

I'd almost forgotten about this advert and suddenly it was on TV and I remembered it. I'm sorry that's not exactly the best story of all time, but if you're looking for that sort of thing you'd probably be better off with a copy of War and Peace rather than some random blog post (so actually I'm not sorry at all - it's your own fault). Anyway, I'm rambling.

I honestly don't understand what the point of this advert is. Does it make you want to buy a Mars bar? All it does to me is vaguely suggest that eating a Mars bar will cause you to activate light sources and small electrical appliances everywhere you go. And that's hardly going to get you a place in the cast of Heroes is it? In fact it'd be fucking annoying. You'd never be able to sleep at night because all your bedroom lights would turn on, and during the day people would start having a go at you in the street for turning on all the streetlights in the middle of the day, thus wasting valuable resources. Probably the only way you'd be able to manage your carbon footprint would be to spontaneously metamorphosise into a tree.

All that for the sake of one bloody Mars bar? It's just not worth it.

[Insert bakery-related title here]

In a fit of absent-mindedness I managed to miss a connecting train yesterday, leaving myself stranded in Worksop for an hour. I ending up walking into the town to get some food. Two things occurred:
1) I realised what a horrible place Worksop was and resolved never to go there again.
2) I took my custom to a Greggs bakery.

Now you wouldn't imagine everyday bakery to be the most exciting of professions. The bakery people put together some stuff, put said stuff in an oven, take said stuff out of oven and then hand it over to people in exchange for money. There might be some occasional excitement, a broken oven perhaps, or a mild burn to the hand, but otherwise you'd imagine the whole process to be a bit boring. Well you'd be wrong.

Apparently Greggs have tried to sex up the traditional bakery. The bakers dash to and fro behind the counter, barking orders at each other. The people at the counter scream at the customers, perhaps trying to raise their voices above the noise of imaginary gunfire and explosions. A women desperately shrieks "two minutes to cornish pasty!" as if this were some kind of absurd bakery-based version of 24, and said cornish pasty were about to appear in the sky above the town and raze it to the ground. It's quite stressful if all you want is a sandwich.

Oh, I almost forgot, something else happened yesterday: I was on the train, reading a magazine, when a guy on the other side of the carriage answered his phone. "Oh, I'm having such a shit day," he said to the other person, "the dog literally ate all my money." I wanted to hear more but unfortunately we'd reached a station and he got off.

Additionally I came upon this video the other day:
YouTube link

At the time it was the most incredible thing I'd seen all day, although I should point out that on this particular day I never left the house, and thus my opportunity for sighting incredible things was somewhat reduced.