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This is a question Best and worst TV ads

"I'd like to give that dodo off the 5 Alive adverts a good kicking," says tom.joad. And luckily, there's tasty, tasty Cillit Bang to clean up the blood stains when you've finished. Tell us about TV adverts.

(, Thu 15 Apr 2010, 15:17)
Pages: Latest, 21, 20, 19, 18, 17, ... 1

This question is now closed.

my problem with advertising is fairly broad...
Speaking as one who makes a living in this godawful trade, the real problem is around the media as a whole in that, with the dawn of PC and positive discrimination, you've got ads like the Diet Coke ones where it's ok for a bunch of women to ogle a guy, but the other way round would (possibly) have them in court. Or ones that say "my husband's so feckin thick he tried to clean the cooker with cornflakes, the twat - so I told him to use Cif".

The rules are:
1) It's ok to make a white man look thicker than his wife because that can't be sexist/racist/homophobic. Despite the fact that women/non-whites/gays can all be bigoted as hell.

2) You can pitch a TV show where you have a bunch of gay guys telling a straight guy his clothes are shit, but you'd be flogged in the street if you pitched a show where straight guys taught a hideously camp queen how to drive a forklift or blend in with football fans. The only way you can do anything like that is to skew the content so that the people that are doing the "teaching" look like assholes.

3) You'll never see a black cop/soldier/mcdonalds fry-cook being berated by a white captain/sergeant/store manager in a film, unless the white guy is being portrayed as either nasty to everyone EXACTLY EQUALLY, or is a racist. Same goes with homophobia.

4) You'll never see a film in which the "plain jane" slightly chubby girl doesn't suddenly become successful and popular or overcome her thin, blonde, pretty and rich enemy.

The reason is that this cultural influence stems from the US and basically, they'll sue anyone for anything over there...

People criticise adverts for perfumes or cars for being obtuse, but the reality is that if you put out an ad that said "our perfume is nice, it smells like apples", you'd have some burger-munching fuckwit trying to sue because they felt it wasn't "apple-y" enough or because it smelled more of pears and that caused them emotional trauma because their uncle once fingered them in a pear orchard, etc.

Advertisers would love to say "buy a ferrari - it's faster than a Mondeo and really nice to look at", but they can't because they'd either be sued by someone who a) felt it wasn't nice to look at, or b) owned a Mondeo and felt that a Ferrari wasn't faster, etc.

You can't say "Buy Armani, don't dress at Primark - you'll look smarter than a chav in a £3 tracksuit", despite the obvious truth of it because either Primark or a £3-tracksuit-wearing chancer will see you end up in court.

Basically, the good ads went the way of the dodo because you have to either do something "wacky" or something so PC it kills any fun or direct messaging in order to avoid falling foul of the lawyers. So, every chocolate ad has some fit bird eating a chocolate bar on the sofa (because eating chocolate on the sofa doesn't make you fat, obviously, only a sexist pig would suggest that), rather than the Milk Tray Man ads which people used to look forward to. The only humour can be totally non-offensive (or non-existant, as all humour picks on somebody, after all), and there can be no stereotyping unless it directly denegrates white heterosexual males....

Shame, really - it's buggered creativity.

The problem isn't the ads - it's the letigious twats who've made everyone in the media afraid of their own bloody shadow.
(, Tue 20 Apr 2010, 17:15, 26 replies)
Case Study: Head and Shoulders
Specifically, this saucy little number here.

The purpose of this advert is to encourage men to buy a particular brand of anti-dandruff shampoo. Right from the off, we can see several clear signs that this advert is designed to trigger certain elements of the male psyche: a young man is in a locker room with several of his peers. This suggests he has just participated in some sort of team sport, because that is what men (GRRRR) do. His face is dirty, which suggests it was an outdoor sport, which is, as everyone knows, far more manly (GRRR) than any of those girly indoor sports.

He enters a shower cubicle carrying a bottle of the product in question. The scene cuts to him moments later, his face cleaned of the very manly (GRRR) dirt, opening the bottle and taking a sniff. He sees a bright light from the other side of the shower curtain and immediately throws the shower curtain back to investigate.

Such behaviour is, in real life, foolish. Any normal human being would have assumed that the scene on the other side of the curtain would still be much the same, save for the additional light source, and so whilst throwing back the curtain would, granted, allow him to see what was occurring, it would also result in him exposing himself to his rather surprised team-mates.

He's quite fortunate, therefore, that the scene has completely changed and his team-mates have been replaced by a gaggle of attractive women. Dressed as nurses, no less. And not the sensible, blue-clad NHS ones, oh no, proper Carry On-style nurses with short skirts, seamed stockings and all the rest. All of a sudden this advert has departed completely from any sense of reality and into the realms of deluded sexual fantasy that even most QotW regulars would stop and think twice about. Suddenly, I like where this advert is going.

Even better for him, the nurses are unsurprised by the presence of this partially washed, naked man. Some might even say they were expecting him, as they do a little dance and sing a little song for him. The little dance leads to a group pose cleverly (mercifully) designed to obscure this chap's tackle, as one of the nurses leans in close and sings
"Don't you just love moments like these?"

Well, don't you? Actually, I'm not sure I've had enough experience to say. The closest I've had to such an experience was one week when no fewer than four female doctors ended up examining my testicles. "Doctor" and "Nurse" are two distinctly different professions, and even if any of them had been nurses, I somehow doubt they'd have done a dance or sung me a song whilst feeling them. (One of them did slather a load of cold goo over them, but that's a different story altogether...)

So based on that experience: no, I probably wouldn't love "moments like these." If anything, I'd probably be slightly alarmed that I'd just inadvertently exposed myself to a group of beautiful women, which would have led to even deeper embarrassment as the dance routine broke down in fits of giggles relating to my pitiful genitalia. (Though if you pause the video at 0:04, it does look as though the blonde and the redhead at the back are trying their best not to laugh at his...)

But then perhaps I'm missing the point here: clearly the implication of the advert is that the shampoo will make you irresistible to women (even nurses, who you'd normally expect to be more professional about this sort of thing), even though all it actually does is smell nice and clear up your dandruff. Clearly, they've learnt from the Lynx deodorant adverts that impressionable young men will buy your product if they think it will improve their chances of regular, hot, steamy nookie. To such young men, I have some bad news, and it's probably best that you hear it from me, because goodness knows I had to learn it the hard way: not having dandruff and not smelling funny do NOT automatically make you an irresistible lothario. Not having dandruff and not smelling funny are basic prerequisites to being socially acceptable, and they will certainly be necessary steps on the road to becoming passably attractive, but unfortunately, women are not going to fall at your feet and suck you off just because you've been good enough to try and mask your Eau de raging hormone with a can of something which makes you smell like a teenage boy's bedroom.

In fact, it's only just after the "moments like these" line that we get an aerial shot (complete with conveniently placed, todger-obscuring steam) of the ensemble, with the subtitled disclaimer:
"Claim based on visibility of flakes at 2 feet when used regularly,"
and as they all look up at the camera, around 0:18, their faces are almost saying to me,
"Come on, look closer, you can still see the dirty bugger's dandruff!"

And then they all disappear, as the poor lad realises he just imagined it. Call me old-fashioned, but I'm not sure I would trust a shampoo that makes me hallucinate sexy, dancing nurses, especially if it would lead to me deludedly throwing back the shower curtain and exposing myself to my peers whilst in the middle of some cheap wank fantasy.

Finally: 0.23. Watch the bottle. See what it does at 0.25? Come on, that's not even subtle. I had barely managed to yell "Fnar Fnar!" at the television when the drop landed in that chap's hair.

Based on all the evidence before you, I put it to you that this advert is hilarious, more than a little camp and ever-so-slightly arousing. A bit like watching The Rocky Horror Picture Show for the first time, you know, before you get the horrible surprise of realising the tall one is Tim Curry. Personally, on account of my naturally dry skin, I've been using various anti-dandruff shampoos for years and whilst they seem to fulfil their basic function, I've yet to encounter any nurses in the shower. Sod it, I'm off to the hospital to see if a female doctor can fondle my bollocks again.
(, Fri 16 Apr 2010, 11:06, 4 replies)
Radio Ads
Hate all of them - just the pure banality and patronising idiocy of them. Unlike TV ads, they remain in the 1950s, when just telling someone to buy something was effective. Consider:

SCENE: a busy cafe

Woman #1: How are you Sheila?
Woman #2: Oh, I've been thinking about killing myself.
Woman #1: Really? What you need is a new carpet from Mike's Carpets!
Woman #2: Mike's Carpets?
Woman #1: Yes - the largest range of carpets in the north, on the High Street
Woman #2: Hmm - well I'm not going to kill myself anymore, I'm going to buy a carpet from Mikes Carpets on the High Street!
Woman #1: Waiter! Cancel that order of cyanide!
Both: Ha ha ha ha ha!


SCENE: Two women sitting at home

Woman #1: How is your anus these days, Sheila?
Woman #2: Scabrous and seeping I'm afraid. I have infected piles. More tea?
Woman #1: That's a shame. When my fundament has gone bacterial, I use Pearson's Soothing Ring Balm, made with natural herbal ingredients.
Woman #2: The one with the easy applicator nozzle?
Woman #1: That's the one! I like it so much that I remortgaged my house to buy shares in the company.
Woman #2: Your arse must be a biological hazard!
Woman #1: You have no idea!
Both: Ha ha ha ha ha ha!


SCENE: The garage

Man #1: I don't know what to do, Jeff. The missus says she's going to divorce me.
Man #2: Small dick, Bob?
Man #1: No she says the sheen on the car isn't as good as him at number four.
Man #2: I had the same problem, mate. My missus was doing the postman until I bought Jizzwad's Supa Wax - for a superior shine.
Man #1: Jizzwad's Supa Wax?
Man #2: Yep, takes just ten minutes and keeps marriages together.
Man #1: Cheers, Jeff. But I have got a small dick....
(, Wed 21 Apr 2010, 11:36, 7 replies)
A tiny bit off topic, but
how come parents are being stopped from taking pictures of their own children in playgrounds, yet it's ok for nappy adverts to show a woman kissing a baby's arse when I'm trying to eat my tea?
(, Thu 15 Apr 2010, 15:44, 6 replies)
I saw an advert the other day that said, basically, "Some bacteria can live in LAVA! Fucking LAVA! Can your kitchen cleaning spray kill bacteria that live in LAVA? Then you need to buy OUR kitchen cleaning spray!" followed by the same "kills 99.9% of bacteria" claim that every kitchen cleaning spray since 1950 has made, and suspiciously no mention of specific lava-dwelling varieties.

Bacteria than live in lava aren't going to be able to live in me. Or, indeed, my kitchen. There isn't any lava in my kitchen anyway. If there was, I strongly suspect that the presence of bacteria in this lava wouldn't be my main concern. And even if there WAS lava in my kitchen, AND I was worried about bacteria that might be living in it, Marigolds don't come in asbestos so there's fuck all I could do about it anyway, cleaning spray or no cleaning spray.
(, Thu 15 Apr 2010, 17:37, 5 replies)
A story about my friend Gary with a vague link to the QOTW and an introduction that goes on for far too long
A few years back, Ms Foxtrot and I had a housemate called Gary. Gary liked to smoke dope. This doesn't relate in any huge way to the story, but it's very hard to talk about him without saying so. He also had a cracking sense of humour and we shared a lot of laughs, stoned and unstoned (but mostly stoned) while he lived with us.

Something that used to crack me up every time was his reaction to the Cillit Bang advert. Whenever it came on, he shouted out - very loudly - "CLIT BANG!!!", which, you have to admit, is pretty fucking funny, and a much better name for the product. What the fuck is Cillit anyway, and why are the makers of this cleaning solution so clean to Bang it?

Obviously, out of context, a gangly curly-haired stoner twat yelling "CLIT BANG!!!" at the telly is a bit weird.

*evil grin*

Gary started seeing this girl called Ro. Not Ensign Ro, although that would have been awesome, the make-up sex with that Bajoron bint must have been awesome. Ro was lovely, game for a laugh and, judging by the noises that came out of Gary's room, a bit of a goer. She also enjoyed a smoke. The only bad thing about Ro was that she ensured Gary spent less time hanging out playing Halo than I would have liked, but here I am being a bastard selfish man.

One evening I knocked on Gary's door and asked if he was free for a smoke, which is a bit like turning up at the Vatican with a schoolboy choir and asking if Ratzinger has a space in his diary. Unfortunately, the response was a slightly high-pitched "Ro's here mate!" which came as something of a surprise as I could hear the TV on in the background. Disgruntled, I turned around and headed for the Xbox in the spare room, only to hear a glorious, glorious proclamation in borderline falsetto.


As much as I wanted to take up a seat outside Gary's room with a shit-eating grin to watch the carnage emerge, I ensconced myself in the spare room at the end of the corridor. I will never forget the sight of a hot blonde girl running downstairs, clutching her blouse together with (I may have imagined this) a milky-white liquid at the corner of her mouth, followed by a skinny bloke struggling to keep his trousers up blathering all manner of dopey apologies.

Gary later told me the whole story. Over a joint. He may have exaggerated certain aspects. Or I may have misremembered them, I dunno, I was stoned.

Apparently Ro was giving him a blowjob while he smoked a joint. This was a big deal (obviously, it was a blowjob) as all previous blowjobs had been a frantic pre-shag thing rather than a long, relaxed pleasure-sesh. The key error in all this, he was happy to admit, was leaving the telly on behind her. It wasn't his fault that the Cillit Bang advert came on just as he was about to fill her mouth with cock yoghurt, but a little restraint wouldn't have killed him.

Try to imagine this poor girl, having just completed a most generous and apparently very well-executed act of gratification, looking up at Gary with his cock still fairly rigid in her mouth, which was otherwise full of spaff, wondering why on earth he'd just screamed out his intention to whack her on the clitoris.

His reaction was to look at her, grinning stupidly, through a haze of smoke and say "sorry, that's my blowjob cum noise"

Never saw her again. Which is just as well, the lingering mental image I have is based on Gary's assertion that she responded to this by snorting in indignation, which made a little spunkbubble come out of her nose...
(, Wed 21 Apr 2010, 15:21, 3 replies)
Metalfish <s>ate my hamster</s> stole my opening line.
EDIT: this is longer and rantier than I anticipated. Exercise caution...er I mean READ IT AND OPEN YOUR MINDS SHEEPLE.

I hate pretty much every advert ever too. Of course there are some adverts I like - witty, intelligent, or otherwise fascinating ones such as midnight text-n-flirt exchanges with REAL GIRLS the classic Guinness ads, Honda's output or even the irritatingly catchy '118, Magical Trevor'. Unfortunately, these are very much the exceptions that proof the rule. It's like being hounded by beggars, chavs and scroungers all down the street and discovering that one in every ninety is literate, friendly, and actually gives good chat, in which case you might actually be tempted to give him some money.

And make no mistake, adverts are fucking beggars. They will do or say anything to get you to give them your money, because, surprise surprise, that's what they're there for. The occasional gem doesn't change the fact that the intervals between television programmes are torrential cascades of bullshit that regularly leave me shouting at my television.
Bill Hicks had it right, yeah, we all know that - well, maybe not the bit about advocating mass suicide, but seriously, advertising is deeply, deeply insulting on every level. And his prediction about the Coke advert they really wished they could make has pretty much come true. See for example that toothpaste advert where they just pan up a naked woman to reveal she has a tooth missing. Ad Exec, this is my friend Subtlety. I don't believe you've met.

And it's getting worse. Another notable William, Mr Bryson. once commented on the difference between American and British advertising. Something along the lines of "In England, an advert for cold medicine shows the man after taking it, still in a dressing gown and a bit sniffly, but at least he's smiling. He feels a bit better. In America, the ad for the same medicine shows the man leaping out of bed with glowing lines round his body and running off to play squash." This was in the 90's. We no longer have that distinction.

In fact, as far as I can tell, every single ad fits into one of these categories, each of them insulting in different and exciting ways. Lots of exclamation marks to emphasise the breathlessly desperate nature of advertising.

1)"Look, ordinary person! Proles like you buy this product!"
We've even filmed them looking slightly off-camera in a casual seeming setting so you know they're an ordinary person like you! And the voice-over is in a regional accent - just like yours, you adorable little demographic!
Offenders - Iceland, Morrisons, Homebase/B&Q, the sodding Volvic cunting 'challenge'.

2)"Look, ordinary person! Faaamoous peeooplle buy this product!"
Don't you want to be like them? Don't you? You worship them, don't you? What better way to be like them than doing and buying what they do and buy?
Offenders - also Iceland ironically, when they had Katona anyway, makeup and beauty products, anything with a sleb in it.

3)"There is literally nothing this product won't cure!"
It's an instant fix that will have you up and about in no time! Look! Your friend even has some in her handbag!
Offenders - all medicines or vaguely medicinal products.

4)"There is literally nothing this product won't cure, including your sad little life!"
Buy this and you will be a better person! Look at how much implied sex/respect/attention/implied sex the actor is getting from other actors!
Offenders - makeup ads again, deodorants, even Lynx (don't tell me about irony. Advertisers don't know the meaning of the word.), car adverts, etc.

4a)"This product will get you LAID!"
It's everywhere. They really, really use sex for everything. Home loans, ambulance chasers, toothpaste, lawnmowers.
Offenders - any advert that shows a bit of tit or flirtatious smile.

5)"This product will FLATTEN YOUR BALLS*"
Offenders - let's just say that that is not what chewing 5 gum feels like.

6)"Buy us! Buy us! Buy us! Buy us! Buy us!"
Simple yet effective - the equivalent of a toddler shouting for attention till you give in and do what they want. No clever punchline, no showing you the supposed benefits of their product, these ads just pound their product into your brain until you can't think of anything else.
Offenders - Go Compare, WePurchaseAutomobilesIndiscrimately, CompareTheMarket and so bloody forth.

You don't really need a scientific education to be aware of the constant waves of utter crap coming at you (although I have studied logic. And of course watched lots of Bill Hicks). You just need a fragment of common sense, especially when a lot of adverts are now required to openly (if not explicitly) state 'what we are showing you on screen is a lie' most of the time. One day I will be rich enough to buy a large handgun and a lot of bulk rate tellies. Maybe old cathode ray ones. And when that day comes, I will be able to cheerfully shoot the television whenever something insults my intelligence. I will probably shoot the television a lot.**

* Use of the term 'Flatten your balls' in reference to awesomeness is (C) Cracked.com 1952 - present.

** I already have a nerf gun for this purpose. It's just not the same though.
(, Sat 17 Apr 2010, 14:40, 3 replies)
Free advice to Santander:
In a recent advert, you appear to suggest that you can afford your customers safe passage across the financial landscape, in an allegory where a specially built red viaduct represents Santander, responding to the needs of its customers and delivering a tailored service. The sleeping child in the family car may even hint at how much better his life will turn out because his parents chose Santander.

This may all be wonderful, however your bridge design appears to be based on gigantic LEGO bricks, whose proportions are no different to their normal size equivalents. There's not enough friction between LEGO bricks to form a stiff arch, necessary to achieve the slender spans of your supposed bridge design. LEGO bricks are designed to be easily separated. Any family car attempting to cross this bridge would plummet to the valley floor, along with the number of structural engineers banking with you. The LEGO studs would also make it a very bumpy ride.

...and while Lewis Hamilton may be a Formula 1 champion, his skills are not necessarily transferable to the job of supervising a major construction job.

Just a thought.
(, Sun 18 Apr 2010, 15:56, 4 replies)
Pretty much every advert ever.
The worst part of a scientific education is the creeping awareness of the tsunamis of bullshit that sweep forth every 10-15 mins via the medium of television that builds to a state of constant irritation. I'm not saying if you've never put on a white coat you're going to lap up the descriptions of messianic perfection that are ascribed to each and every product, but you're trained to be critical and most importantly ask: "Where's the evidence?" at every available opportunity. Of course their usually isn't any.

Women's beauty products are a gold standard example for this kind of crap. Next time one is on take a look at the text at the bottom of the screen rather than the claim in big white letters with the words 9/10 or 95% in it. Those little words will, at worse tell you that everything you're seeing in the advert is a hilariously dishonest ("This tart is wearing natural hair extensions" -what so you've got brilliant stylist, a photoshop wiz AND perfect hair from some poor Indian lass stuck to the scalp of a wench who claims to be an actress but hasn't been in anything for a decade? What part, if any, did your five quid a bottle sham-poo play in all this?) Or, more often trying to sneak in some really crap statistics. Often it's a survey of about 100-400 women, but I've seen much lower. I don't think this is the place for a lecture of statistical significance but that really is shit. And that doesn't take into account the shitness of the questions they ask, they ask questions about opinion e.g. "Would you agree our shampoo makes your hair feel softer?" I'm not a statistician, but I'm told that asking for an opinion of this type is pretty dodgy, even without the questioned being carefully tailored to generate positive, marketable responses. An easy way of doing just that is to overload the positive end of the scale so people plumb for what appears to them to be an "average" or "neutral" response just 'cos it's the middle tick-box when it is, in fact, a hearty recommendation when examined more closely. Another is omitting the "don't know" or "no difference" option as people who have just received a free sample of your product (no doubt after a short placebo-effect-inducing lecture on it's greatness) are pre-disposed to positive responses when choice is limited.

Et volia, a survey of (a statistically iffy number of readers of a fashion magazine who are more likely to be convinced of the value of said product-type whilst not being aware of good questionnaire design) found 95% of them found it made their hair "feel" "softer". Notice the word "feel" there? It's really important. We're now presenting opinion (dodgy opinion at that, for the reasons above) as fact and using it to sell you shit. And there's not a damn thing the advertising standard agency can do about it.

I could go on and on about how Lynx will do nothing but make you smell like an impressionable 14 year old, how any advertising exec who green-lights anything with "there is an easier way!" in it should be force-fed creme eggs until they choke to death, how car ads are so far removed from the business of selling cars as to be best viewed as subversive surrealism and that anyone trying to sell you something does not have the best interests of you, your kids, your pets or your fucking gut bacteria in mind. But I won't.

(, Thu 15 Apr 2010, 16:39, 7 replies)
When I was a kid I had the hots for a girl in my class named Toni (blokes name, but the endless hours spent staring intently at her bumpless trousered undercarriage zone during double geography made me pretty damn sure she was almost definately of the female persuasion). While my classmates learned about the plight of South American coffee farmers, I sat there – eyes all squinty – trying with all my might to suddenly develop the powers of x-ray vision. One time I strained so hard I let out a rapid fire succession of machinegun farts and nearly passed out. Toni was not impressed. Nobody wants to go out with a lad with a wibbly arse who’s apparently so unfit he nearly loses conciousness while sat at a desk.

I needed to do something to win her back. Short of stapling a photo of my cock on her homework book, I was completely out of ideas. Then it dawned on me. I saw it in an advert. At the time back in the not-so-PC eightees these bastards were on the TV constantly. They worked. They were fucking hot and to my thirteen year old mind the secrets of seduction contained within the thirty second-or-so segments was pure solid fucking GOLD.

So the next day at lunch I made sure I positioned myself opposite Toni and her mates in the school canteen. I ate my chips, egg and beans in silence and then – my secret weapon – I pulled it out, unwrapped it, and started to eat...

... in exactly the same way they did on the ads.

After a couple of moments one of Toni’s mates nudged her and she stared up. I was scared, but I kept going. I was elated. I had her attention! I was onto a winner! I was definately gonna find out if she was a bloke or a bird!

Then I ran out of chocolate. There was an awkward pause. Then Toni said simply and quietly: “Freak,” stood and trooped off to the playground with her friends, leaving me alone, dejected. Unloved. And most importantly of all un-touched-on-my-tadger.

My best mate Greg siddled up to me: “What the fuck was all that about?”

I explained my devious plan to get a bit of teen quim (though in hindsight I’m fucked if I’d have known what to do with it if my plan would’ve succeeded).

Greg just shook his head: “Now that’s really, really, REALLY fucking stupid. You know that only looks sexy if a woman does it? I mean, seeing a bloke give a blowjob to a Flake is just, well, just fucking weird
(, Thu 22 Apr 2010, 10:13, 13 replies)
The Usual Suspects
I'm sure I'll think of a ton more, and apologies if these have already been done, but I really must vent my dislike of;

- Rimmel. Primarily because the name sounds like a harrowing portmanteau of 'Rim' and 'Camel' (and god only knows why you'd need to portmanteau those two), but also because they remind me why models never usually speak. Each advert consists of 28 seconds of a lady looking incredibly polished, followed by two seconds which shatter the whole illusion as you hear her honk "Get the London look" in the sort of balls-ugly foghorn that causes passing sea-lions to turn their heads.

- Berroca's shameless robbing of the OK Go treadmill video. Hopefully one day OK Go will return the favour by launching a drink which tastes revolting and does nothing but turn your piss luminous.

- WKD. It's a drink for bell-ends who can't manage a whole pint of beer, and the adverts feature a bunch of bell-ends being bell-ends, so I can't really fault them for accuracy. There's still no excuse though. (N.B. I did, however, like one WKD advert in which a woman enjoying a relaxing bath is interrupted by her husband barging in to take a dump, complete with magazine. There was something about the sheer bluntness that did it for me)

- Any insurance advert which includes the phrase 'We're not on price-comparison websites' as if it was a good thing. Please correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm not convinced that letting Confused.com show your prices would cost you huge amount. It's like me advertising my services as a children's entertainer with a classified ad proclaiming "I haven't been CRB-checked, so I can pass that saving on to YOU"

- The last few Christmas' Boots adverts, in which they position themselves as official supplier to the office Secret Santa. Not just for the grating style, but also for their crafty attempts to inflate the generally-accepted value of the Secret Santa gift. Maybe I've only ever worked for tightwads, but every Secret Santa I've experienced has had a top price limit of £10. Boots ads, however, show people giving their loathed colleagues £40 facial-hair trimmers, designer perfumes, all sorts. It could be that I need to adjust my tinfoil hat, but it does look like they're trying to convince us that the rest of the world thinks nothing of trotting down to Boots to spend £50 on a sun-lamp for the cunt in HR.

It's not all doom and that, though. Orange Tango adverts have always attracted huge praise, but one ad for Blackcurrant Tango is often cruelly overlooked. It's amazing; The editing is great, the soundtrack is perfect and the whole thing is the most incredible and exhilarating rush I've ever seen in a commercial. The bit right at the end especially, when the planes descend, is awesome.
(, Sun 18 Apr 2010, 22:16, 4 replies)
Malibu Advert from years back
If you saw it then I only need to write one line, if you haven't seen it then nothing I say will make sense anyway, so....

"Oh Man, It's total gridlock!"
(, Wed 21 Apr 2010, 16:40, 6 replies)
"Take two bottles into the shower?"
Of course I don't, there's a fucking shelf in there.
(, Mon 19 Apr 2010, 17:47, Reply)
Once upon a time...
when I was a young lad, I was roaming around Northampton town centre. Me and a friend, Sean, were doing the usual pastimes of chasing the deformed pigeons, eating McDonalds and slowly bankrupting Woolworths with our slow burning Pic n Mix heist.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, strangers offering sweets approached us. After working out their intentions weren't to kidnap us, we discovered that they were filming an advert for the 'NEW IMPROVED' Lion bars. Which, were my favourite chocolate bar. I've always been fond of really chewy, sticky chocolate, so even hours after it's been eaten, you can still find bits of nougat in your teeth to prolong the chocolatey goodness. Lion bars are king of this category.

So, after loading our pockets full of mini Lion bars, as bribery for our cooperation, they told us to get in the van asked if we could say it's really nice and so much better than before. For all we could tell, it tasted exactly the fucking same, but with the potential of getting given more chocolate from these generous strangers we threw ourselves into our new found roles as advertising masterminds.

Minds ready, we stood there, in front of the cameras and a now gathering audience of Market Square shoppers already planning our ascent to stardom... This advert was a platform to Hollywood. And then, just as they start the countdown, with a final mouthful of Lion bar getting chomped down, Sean whispers to me, in a voice only loud enough for me to hear...

"tastes like shit, doesn't it?"

And of course, being a young adolescent, this was the wittiest thing I had ever heard. Cue me breaking down into tears of laughter, whilst drooling chocolate over the giant microphone stuck under our noses, trying to force out "Ttthhhee nooo LLjjion burr isshhhh weealy vewy niccsshh" through my stuffed gob. Must have thought I was mental.

Surprisingly, we didn't make the final cut. It was a bunch of clean cut Northamptonians who could speak without dribbling brown. Squares.

That's the closest I've ever come to being in an advert. Also, one of my mates was on the back of an action man box when he was little.

And if this doesn't suffice, the old Honda advert that was like awesome Mousetrap was the best advert on TV
(, Fri 16 Apr 2010, 13:13, 7 replies)
Tell us about TV Adverts?

There is a red background with black borders. There is a picture of a television and a price and some details about specs and some other guff.

I dont get this QOTW.
(, Thu 15 Apr 2010, 23:22, 2 replies)
Piracy is a Crime
Thanks for making me sit through that... at the beginning of a purchased dvd.

Preaching to the wrong crowd.
(, Mon 19 Apr 2010, 16:17, 4 replies)
Can you imagine an advert
where an insurance company says "We only insure men because they are better drivers"?

There would be hell up. Oh and if they're such good drivers why are they letting a fucking kangaroo drive the car whilst facing backwards without their fucking seatbelts on!
(, Thu 15 Apr 2010, 19:59, Reply)
Cosmetics advertising...
I personally take issue with certain mascara adverts. Specifically, the ones that not only lie to you, but are legally obliged to display a banner message illustrating that they are indeed talking out of their grease smeared animal testing shitholes.

"Look at our product - merely rub a bit of this black gunky shit into your eyelid hair using a glorified miniture bog brush (or as we prefer, an enhancing applicator using our new patented Enviro-LashLift-Blindotron technology), and before you know it you'll have eyelashes like black men's cocks hanging down over your chin".

Banner on screen: "Effect shown achieved in post production". A brief translation of this equates to: "This ladies eyelashes have been Photoshopically enhanced after the fact to the point where they make the animation effects used in Avatar look like they were drawn by Daniel Day Lewis in My Left Foot."

Basically, before I added 3 paragraphs of dribbling hyperbole to it, these people are allowed to lie directly to the consumer provided they then tell them that they're lying in a barely visible screen flash. What next?

"Try our new babyfood, it's great and healthy! (babyfood actually not great or healthy and mostly made of sharpened bits of Polonium drenched in anthrax)"

Maybe she's born with it. Maybe it's Maybelline! Maybe we've had a team of artists working on it for 4 months straight because she's actually a crackhead with a face like a bulldog chewing a piss soaked wasp and skin tone that would make a leprous crocodile tut and pass the E45.
(, Thu 15 Apr 2010, 17:36, 2 replies)
I love Public Information Films
As I've quacked on in a reply a bit further down, old Public Information Films are wonderful. You can learn more about what life was like in a previous decade from one good PIF than from any amount of Kate Thornton pretending to remember Spangles and Peter Kay recalling how he'd play in the street with his swingball/spacehopper/pogo-stick before it bashed into a neighbour's wall and he'd come out and he'd go "HEY-EY-EY-EY!"

My favourite PIF was the one that showed some children playing hide and seek in a field. One child finds a brilliant hiding place; An abandoned fridge! He climbs in and closes the door. Alas it's the sort of fridge with a handle which locks the door from the outside. Click! One child, sealed in a fridge, never to be found (presumably until someone comes to clear the fridge away, takes a look inside and discovers the second-worst thing you could find in a fridge, after CheeseStrings).

What I loved about this PIF was how incredibly specific it was. "If your child goes out playing, AND he finds a fridge that someone's dumped in a field, AND that fridge has one of those automatic locks on the outside, AND your child decides to climb inside, AND he closes the door, AND the door locks itself, then he'll die". In theory they should've made hundreds of these adverts, covering every possible hazard that could befall your child outside. "Come on Billy, let's play on this old tractor!" "Hang on a minute, I'm still hand-cuffed to this lamp-post from our game of Cops and Robbers!" "Never mind that, you can pretend to be the farmer's dog. Here, tie this rope round your neck and pretend it's the lead" "OK! But make sure you tie the other end to the back of the tractor so I can pretend to run along behind it! And throw me the key so I can undo these handcuffs!" "Err, we can't find the key. Oh, look! There's one in the tractor, just under the steering wheel! I'll just twist it to get it out. Oh. That seems to have started the engine, and we're now driving away. Billy, you should probably untie that rope around your neck. Billy?"
(, Wed 21 Apr 2010, 15:08, 5 replies)
gotomyPC.com is a potentially useful service that has the misfortune to be advertised as if it is necessary only in times of great fucking idiocy.

The ad consists of a man, about to do a presentation, who has forgotten his computer. His desktop computer. The only kind of computer in the world. Obviously this is an important presentation, but alas this man has forgotten what appears to be (in whatever strange reality the advert is set in) the key piece of hardware necessary to wow the assembled masses. His desktop computer. The only kind of computer in the world. Also not a portable computer, no. A desktop computer. If only some kind of portable computer could be invented, then this man would be able to bring his computer with him without as much hassle. As it is he has to bring his bulky desktop with him to meetings, presumably in his car (which, in Advert world, people will see and immediately ask him 'Is that your car?' as if to say 'But you are a fugly munter, how can you own such a vehicle?'). Surely if one has only one item to bring to a meeting, and it is a large computer comprising several pieces of equipment, it's quite easy to remember? This guy is obviously under a lot of pressure. Someone of that level of idiocy couldn't possibly be in a position of responsibility?

Yes. Yes, they can.

But anyway, this fool has a solution. He will whistle for his intelligent pigeon friends to carry over the computer equipment to the office he is in. Yes. Yes he will. This will work. It's a perfectly normal response to the situation. It's the only response available. There are NO OTHER ALTERNATIVES.

In this situation, says the ad, you need gotomypc.com. It's the other alternative. The only other alternative.

So, in an attempt to sell their product, gotomypc.com have presented an idiot who has left AN ENTIRE DESKTOP COMPUTER at his office on the day of a big presentation who apparently has never heard of laptops, e-mail, back-up files, USB memory sticks or cards, not-forgetting-the-desktop, writing it down, flip charts, CDs, floppy discs, mobile phones and NOT BEING A TWAT.

At the end of the advert the pigeons, who have caused transport chaos en route, as well as havoc in the office, bring in his desktop. This probably doesn't look to good, presentation wise. And they forgot the keyboard. D'oh!

If you know nothing about computers and need to look at someone else's computer then gotomypc.com is very useful. This fact does not come across in the advert, where it looks like the tool of imbeciles. By the way, for anyone reading this, a desktop computer cannot be carried by pigeons. For proof of this I refer you to the opening scene of Monty Python and the Holy Grail. True, they're talking about swallows, but the principle remains. However, it is still true that a desktop computer is the only kind of computer. So there.
(, Sun 18 Apr 2010, 9:03, 4 replies)

Anyone remember the jingle

"What's got a hazelnut in every bite?"

Which is where me and my mates would yell:

"Squirrel shit!"

I will grow up one day. Honest.

(, Sat 17 Apr 2010, 17:33, 9 replies)
You can kill me now, but I helped produce the Go Compare advert music.

I didn't write (much) of it but I did engineer and master it.

YOU think it's annoying? try spending weeks in a studio with just that on loop.
(, Sat 17 Apr 2010, 9:03, 6 replies)
Thisch queschtion of the week isch not ready yet!
(, Thu 15 Apr 2010, 17:18, Reply)
Maybe not my fave ever
Not even a 'classic' advert, in that it came out this year. Still deserves to win so many awards that the creators stagger under the weight of them.

Embrace Life: www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-8PBx7isoM
(, Thu 15 Apr 2010, 15:54, 6 replies)
Irn Bru take on 'The Snowman'
Purely for the line, rather beautifully sung:

"He nicked my Irn bru
and let go of my hand"
(, Tue 20 Apr 2010, 17:56, 1 reply)
Note to idiots: read the fine print
One of the HR women in the office (Known as C) is not really the brightest gal’s I’ve ever met, she spends most of her time in the office reading the latest celeb gossip magazines and falling for any bit of information relayed to her by a few senior members of staff (it took her a few days to realise that the Icelandic volcanic ash in the upper atmosphere was not going to fall down on people and incinerate them immediately. The Tekkies told her this to watch her scurry from her car to the offices with a ring binder over her head for protection, they didn't realise she would keep it up for a few days).

Today she has really outdone herself. She is hoping to go away on holiday later this summer and has already started counting her calories for the last few weeks so I was surprised to see her walk into work yesterday carrying a large bar of Galaxy chocolate (the one that costs over a £1). She also brought another one in today and was well on her way through the bar when I popped in to annoy her regarding something work related. While she was faffing with the system I commented on the chocolate.

Me: Hey C whats with all the chocolate, you got a craving or something?
C: No I always like something sweet and found this stuff out at the supermarket yesterday, Its slimming chocolate with only 23 calories per bar
Me: What? It looks like ordinary Galaxy to me
C: Nope its not look on the front, the supermarket also had a stand that said the same(Theres the tedious link to adverts for you)
(Looks at packaging)
Me: Erm C it does say 23 calories on the front but it also says in the small print that that is the calorie amount for one of the small pieces
C: What? Oh my god why would they put it on the front like that, I’ve eaten two this week that’s way too much for me I’m going to be far too fat…..(sobs) here take the rest of it
Me: What?
C: Here take the rest of it I’m going to throw it away if not
Me: ...erm...Ok

What I was going to say to C was that the reason that galaxy advertised their product in that way so a number of people that are either too stupid or too lazy to read the fine print will buy it. I didn’t want to upset her anymore, besides I got free chocolate out of it yum yum.

Sorry for the long and rambling post but I just wanted to do something other than post a link to youtube showing the ad for something like Tango, the Goth Iron Bru one or the horrid Legend of Zelda one for the NES that had the two yank geeks rapping (shudder).
(, Tue 20 Apr 2010, 14:58, 3 replies)
I hate those adverts for Lloyd-Webber musicals
They seem to be on for bloody ages, especially at the weekend.
(, Mon 19 Apr 2010, 9:45, Reply)
Blackcurrant Tango - St George
This ad was just perfect

Back in it's day, it took an entire ad-break, and it is such a perfect mixture of 'did I just see that' and 'did they just say that' that you have to replay it. Utterly brilliant.

(, Fri 16 Apr 2010, 15:51, 3 replies)
The "Carbon is the Spectre of DOOM" ads
Why? Because they look like they're a piss-take made by global warming denialists. I was all set to go into a nice rant about "How the hell is did that pseudoscience propaganda get on my telly?" until about half way through when I finally realised it was suppose to *raise awareness* of CO2 pollution.It's obvious that treating the entire population like 5 year olds listening to a fairytale and saying "TURN THE BLOODY GAS DOWN OR THE GHOSTS WILL EAT YOU!" is not the way to deal with a serious problem whose opponents' favourite tactic (short of cherry picked graphs) is to throw out accusations of scaremongering. I hope the ad agency behind it has a good excuse like "The animators stayed up all night watching the 6th Sense, stoned off their tits", or next we can look forward to more legendarily patronising public service ads along the likes of:

"Think. Don't drink and drive. Because the beer-pixies will possess you like Jack Nicholson in the Shining and you will die! OMG BEER PIXIES!"

"Benefit Thieves. We're on to you. With our Invisible Mind Rays.Yeah. Mind Rays. You're so fucked. Also we're telling your mum. Ooooooooh."

Click "I like this" if you think you can handle doing the Incredible Research! (like reading a popular science article written for normal people) that some PR numpty thinks you're too thick for.
(, Thu 15 Apr 2010, 19:49, 1 reply)
What they want you to think is that it'll cure heartburn.

The reality is more like this:

With thanks to Capt Hoodbutter
(, Thu 15 Apr 2010, 18:34, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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