This month the National Council of Jewish Women, Seattle is co-sponsoring performances for The Vagina Monologues at the Museum of History and Industry.
To promote the show, it put together an ad with a vag-like heart (complete with clit!) and presented it to a passel of publications.
And while papers like JT News and some synagogues had no problem posting the ad hither and yon, the Seattle Times decided to say no. (Some advice: never do that.)
Enter fist-shaking from femme-groups and synagogues alike. Our favourite quote from the article:
[Executive director of the local NCJW chapter] Lauren Simonds says the Times' refusal to run the ad "really goes against what the Vagina Monologues is all about. It just makes [the vagina] more taboo."
Here's an idea: Want to divorce the vagina from a taboo the penis just doesn't share? Bring the fight to the big leagues. Take the doors off bathroom stalls!
Remember that suicidal GM robot? Imagine it's refreshed, rehabilitated and ready to contribute to society again.
Would you let it touch the kids?
Courtesy of Make the Logo Bigger.
Word has it that broadband content is now eligible for Primetime Emmy Awards. Whether that flatters broadband shows or the sleepy Emmys is anybody's guess; it's all the same in the media melting pot.
To spread the news, WONGDOODY prepared a print campaign with Mary Tyler Moore and that bigoted dad from All in the Family. Computers have been stitched into their environments. Headers read, "Welcoming Broadband to the World of Television."
Creative will appear in print and online. There will also be an "aggressive online word-of-mouth effort."
Oh, yeah: Because that big, bad PR really twisted our arms.
In livid response to our post on the wearable video vest, Brand Marketers opened our eyes to T-Shirt TV, which came out before the video vest and looks way better (said them, not us).
What do you think? To democratize the options, both models are worn mainly by girls with no pants. (See vest, see tee.)
Like you'd watch TV on somebody's torso otherwise. It is to scoff.
Hey, look. More lavish venture funding for exhibitionist games of jackass.
Bragster, a one-year old social networking site, sets people on daring sprees. Dare someone to do something, they accept and upload proof, and everyone has a giggle.
Dares are either accepted or spurned, and limits are set to meet the grade.
Especially wretched dares included "I will pour 2 mugs of boiling hot coffee on my laptop" (which is what you see at left) and "I dare rileyyy to slap someone around the face with a fish in a supermarket."
This just won $3.5 million in its Series A. Guess who led the round? Intel.
What the fuck.
In a moment of generosity, Make the Logo Bigger spilled some saucy new Old Spice beans on us (via Copyranter). If you have hair here, here and here but not there, you owe it to yourself to watch it.
It's neat that Old Spice tore open its billowing shirt and let out the musk. But now that everybody's laughing, how about improving on that old, spicy formula? We can't all be Bruce Campbell.
o Old Spice in Cool Evergreen
o Old Spice a la mode (no one can resist the manly thrall of vanilla)
o Old Spice's alter ego: Youthful Mellow
It's seems Times Square's Naked Cowboy - aka Robert Burck - who, at first, thought the video billboard showing a blue M&M dressed like a cowboy was funny now has had second thoughts and is suing Mars $6 million for trademark infringement. Burck thinks the video represents too closely what he does each day in his underwear and would like to see some cash out of the situation.
Does that mean with $6 million in his pocket (if he wins), Burck won't have to perform for money thereby depriving New Yorkers of an entertainment in institution? Oh the horror! To pass through Times Square and not see the dude in his underwear? That is just wrong. So wrong. We hope he loses. Oh wait, that's not nice. We hope he wins and heads to Calvin Klein to grab himself some stylish new drawers.
The most fun we ever had with Wonder bread wasn't eating it. Nope. Not at all. Especially since every bite would stick to the top of the mouth and adhere itself there like glue until a bit of invasive finger surgery was performed. Rather, because it's made mostly out of air, we'd take sadistic joy in compressing an entire loaf into a shape the size of a tennis ball and hurling it across the table at our sister. It made for great breakfast time entertainment but it seems things have changed over the years.
Oh we've seen them. You have too. Those people so engrossed with their iPods, they look like they're conjuring their inner Michael Bolton. Those people so intently involved in their Bluetooth earpiece-enabled cell phone conversation they look like mumbling mental patients oblivious to the fact they look like idiots.
Apparently, according to a recent DraftFCB-created campaign for Ontario's Workplace Safety & Insurance Board, the above mentioned scenarios can lead to a bloody death. Death by iPod. Death by ignorance of signage. Death by ignorance of safety manuals. Hmm. Somehow, we're glad the most dangerous thing threatening our existence is the copy of George Parker's book, Madscam, perched on a shelf above our desk.
What do you get when you marry an infomercial with a lingerie ad that's about as sexy as a detergent ad? A very cheesy commercial for the equally cheesy Pajamagram, a site which sells women's sleepwear that (oh the horror!) actually covers most of the body. Just think, guys. For Valentine's Day you can give your girl something she'll actually find useful and which will control that annoying "reaction" most women "suffer" when they get chilly.
So, guys, be a loving husband/bf/significant other and properly cover your girl with some cute, cozy, sleepwear. You can always haul out the sluttywear when the mood strikes.
Barkley and production house Liquid 9 have welcomed back the ADDYs to Kansas city by killing off the OMNI Awards Spy versus Spy-style. Poor OMNI meets a bloody death at the hands of ADDY who uses the usual Spy versus Spy tactics to do so.
Hey, this is advertising. We'll beat our competition to a bloody pulp every chance we get!